The Alpha’s Heart (Stolen Mates #3)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

EIGHT YEARS LATER

M y mate needs me.

Sending an answering pulse down our bond to Bishop, I look at the three pups wrestling in the dirt patch in front of me. They’re in their fur, yipping at each other while snapping their adorable fangs. The brindled pup has a more dominant aura than the smaller two, but the grey she-wolf is holding her own.

I smile. It took a few seasons for me to accept that I wouldn’t be able to return to teaching the young pups in our pack—as the Alpha’s mate, my role is supporting Bishop and that is a full-time job—but whenever I’m free from my duties, I always seem to be surrounded by the youngest shifters. They’re drawn to my maternal wolf, and since Bishop and I have yet to be blessed with pups of our own, I enjoy this time I spend with them.

But my male is calling for me, and I must go to him.

Taking a knee, I hold out my hands. The she-wolf disentangles herself from the other two pups. The brindled future Alpha chuffs and rolls from his back to his belly before bounding next to her. The small black-furred delta chases his tail when he realizes he’s alone.

I pet the two that come near me. Marcy and JR. “Go on,” I tell them. “Find your mamas. We’ll play later.”

The brindled pup answers me with a high-pitched howl. The she-wolf rubs her cheek against my palm before bumping the alpha, then taking off, enticing him to chase. The black wolf scratches his ear with his back leg.

“You, too, Rowan,” I tell him.

As if realizing she forgot her younger brother, Marcy comes back, JR tromping alongside her. Rowan pulls himself up to all fours, tongue lolling out of his open mouth as he gives them both a wolfy smile before the three of them dash home.

I watch them go as I get back to my feet. Ginnie is sitting on her porch, braiding her hair. I don’t even have to tell our healer to keep an eye on the pups. She lets her hair settle over her shoulder, climbing up and moving easily down the stairs so that she can make sure they don’t get in any trouble on their way.

That’s what a pack does. I don’t have to give her the command, though—as the Alpha female—it would be expected of me. We’re a community in Hickory. We’re a family . We look out for each other, and JR, Marcy, and Rowan’s mothers don’t have to worry about their pups exploring their territory on their own because, in the pack, no one is ever on their own.

From our fierce, devoted Alpha down to the wisest and most mature gamma wolf, we will protect one another. Bishop is our leader—and he’s my heart.

Over the years, our bond has only grown. What began as a single thread tying us together has become an unbreakable steel chain that keeps us linked. At any given moment, I can find him on the other end. I know where he is. What he’s thinking. I’m not an omega she-wolf like his sister is, but I can sense how he’s feeling, and right now?

Bishop is anxious.

No, I think to myself, following that link toward him; not surprisingly, he’s in the den of the Alpha cabin, available to every and all of our packmates to meet with him if they need to. Bishop… he doesn’t get anxious. Alphas are decisive. They see things in black and white. If someone’s in trouble, help them. If someone is trouble? Kill them. The safety and security of the pack comes first, and there isn’t anything he won’t do to ensure that Hickory is protected.

But something is bothering him, and it’s as instinctive for him to reach out to me as it is for my wolf to do everything in her power to soothe his.

If it was a problem with the pack or its hierarchy, he’d rely on West first. That’s his Beta, after all, and his right-hand wolf. Then there’s Helene. Not only is she his family, but she’s the Omega. Her role in the pack is part-peacemaker, part-therapist. But since I pass Helene on my way to the cabin I share with Bishop, and I don’t pick up West’s tell-tale sandalwood scent as I approach the den, I know that this might be pack business, but it’s also something that’s affecting my mate personally.

I had to learn how to be an Alpha’s mate. Bishop? He’s grown into being the leader of our pack over the last eight years, but with me at his side, he’s also had to figure out how to rein his dominance in a little so that we could be partners. He’s still a gruff, scowling, bearded male who seems to grow bigger every winter, yes. He’s also mine , and I wouldn’t want him any other way.

He can sense me coming. Before I can reach for the door to the den, it swings in, and there he is. His dark gold eyes light up as he sees me. Reaching out, Bishop wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.

I let him hold me. He shudders out a shaky breath, just one, and I can feel the weight on his shoulders ease a little bit. As the Alpha, it’s always a lot. Never more than he can handle, but he’s responsible for every single packmate at every moment of the day. He’ll never forget that, though when I’m at his side as his bonded mate, I share as much of the load as I can.

Like now.

Bishop gives me a gentle squeeze. Dropping a kiss to the top of my hair, he breathes in again and lets me go long enough to snag my hand. His warm fingers cover mine as he tugs, leading me toward his desk.

There are two chairs set behind it: the oversized wooden one that’s built for Bishop’s bulk, plus a smaller, daintier version that he had made for me for the one month anniversary of our bonding. Any worries I had that Bishop’s pack wouldn’t accept me as their Alpha’s mate disappeared almost immediately after I first arrived in Hickory. Bishop chose me. It didn’t matter that Fate picked me out for him first, or that the Luna gave him my name. Bishop bit me. He mated me. He chose me, and because of that, this pack became my pack.

As the female half of the Alpha couple, my packmates prefer to have me around when meeting with Bishop. My presence tempers his dominance, and if his Alpha nature becomes too much, I’m always there to act as a mediary. Plus, after being his mate for so long, I’m a pro at translating any of his grunts and snarls when his wolf is riding him hard.

I see his beast staring back at me when I meet his gaze. He’s still in his skin, though I can sense how much he wants to shake off his clothes, shift to his fur, and run. He won’t. If there’s one thing I know about my mate—besides the fact that he adores me—is how good his control is over himself.

But when he takes his seat, then uses his grip on my hand to maneuver me so that I’m sitting sideways on his lap, my shoulder tucked against him? He’s in control, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t take comfort in holding me close.

I lift my hand, cradling his bearded jaw. Tilting my head back, I take in his furrowed brow, the way his cheeks are hollowed, and the wild look in his eyes. My beautiful, beautiful mate. I kiss him, a quick peck that does wonders to remind him that I’m here, that I’m his, and that he can let down his guard. Bishop will always be a dominant alpha wolf, but with me? He doesn’t have to be.

The moment my lips touch his, his big body relaxes further. He dips his face forward, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment once I finish the kiss.

“Thank you, cher,” he breathes out, nuzzling our noses together. “I needed that.”

He needed me .

I shift on his lap so that I can rub my palm against his chest, keeping a connection. I feel the way his heart is beating in his chest, pounding louder and quicker than usual. “Talk to me, my love,” I murmur. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs. “Canari.”

Helene . Bishop’s younger sister. She’s twenty-four now, older than I was when I came to Hickory, but he still looks at her and sees a young pup. I don’t know what she could’ve done to put him on edge. Our pack Omega, she’s beloved. A sweet and kind female, she’ll do anything for anyone—especially Bishop. He’s still as overprotective of her as he is me, and she allows it because, well, that’s her big brother.

It doesn’t hurt that she’s been in a committed relationship with West these last five years. They’re not bonded yet for reasons I think are a little silly, but marking each other and asking for the Luna’s blessing is the only thing stopping them from being confirmed mates. In every other way that counts, they are mates. Bishop’s best friend would protect Helene with his life if necessary, and he’s so devoted to the she-wolf he’s always loved, he’d be here, defending her against Bishop if she uncharacteristically did something to frustrate her brother.

But West isn’t here. And Helene…

“I saw Helene on my way here,” I tell him. “She was at home. She smiled and waved at me. I didn’t get the idea that something was wrong.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know yet.”

His gruff voice has a hint of emotion to it that I’ve learned to recognize. Bishop will always, always do what’s best for the pack. But there are times when he wants to make exceptions—usually when they involve a younger packmate, for example, or someone he cares deeply about, like his sister or me—but struggles with balancing his private life and that of the pack Alpha.

That’s what’s happening right now. As Alpha, whatever is going on, he knows it will impact the pack. But as Bishop … this involves his little sister. His songbird. And because he’s torn between how to react, he needs me.

I’m his heart. I may be the Alpha female because he bonded me to him, but as much as I love tending to our pack, my most important role is as Bishop’s partner.

So I lay my hand over his heart, meet that same wild look, and ask him softly, “Doesn’t know what?”

Alphas don’t take orders. They don’t answer questions, either. To do anything that might be construed as a challenge is a bad idea… unless you’re his mate. Bishop curves his arm around my waist, hugging me loosely as he explains the phone call he received minutes before he sent out the message for me to go to him through our bond.

The short of it? We’re in Louisiana. The nearest wolf shifter pack that could be a threat to us is just over the border, in Texas. The Gravetail Pack is run by an Alpha named Luis Cruces who we have a… decent relationship with.

That’s why Bishop didn’t hang up when the caller identified himself as Rafael, Luis’s only son and the Alpha-heir of Gravetail. Though, when Rafael asked if he could meet with Helene Dupuis, it took every ounce of Bishop’s diplomacy to keep from cutting the call then and there.

No one knows about Helene; at least, outside of Hickory, they don’t. That’s on purpose. Bishop is chronically overprotective of his baby sister, yes, but it’s more than that. She’s our Omega, and as every cohesive pack knows, a good Omega is essential to keeping us running smoothly. An Omega is the glue for any strong pack, and the Sylvan Pack didn’t have one for close to a decade after Bishop’s mother’s untimely death. Bishop wouldn’t have pushed Helene into taking the position at sixteen if he hadn’t taken over for Xavier at the same time. The transition period was shaky, even though no one challenged Bishop for the position, but having Helene assuming the mantle of Omega made it easier.

Since then, he’s continued to keep her hidden. No one on the outside should know her name—but Rafael did.

And that means only one thing. If Rafael knows of Helene, it’s because someone told him. Maybe it could be a former packmate who left Hickory for Gravetail, or maybe it was the Luna…

Bishop confirms it. The moon goddess rewarded the Alpha-heir with Helene’s name because Bishop’s sister is Rafael Cruces’s fated mate.

He can’t claim her now. Even if she wasn’t in a long-term relationship with West Reed, there are certain ways things are done when it comes to an Alpha’s mate. Usually, the name of a mate isn’t given to an Alpha until they’ve taken over a pack; it’s a reward from the Luna to any unmated Alpha, giving him the name of his fated mate should he want it. It’s not common for an Alpha-heir to be gifted the identity of their mate beforehand, but when that does happen, it’s traditional for the Alpha-heir to wait until he’s been installed as Alpha before claiming his mate in the Luna Ceremony.

That’s what Rafael wants. So he asked Bishop if he could come meet Helene, introduce himself, and offer to be her intended until the time he took over his pack from his father.

And because we have a tenuous truce with all local packs, Bishop has no choice but to agree.

No wonder he’s torn. I’m not surprised he didn’t immediately call West and Helen to him, either. This news is going to shatter his best friend and his baby sister no matter what he decides to do.

But Bishop… he trusts me with this information. More importantly, I’m the only one he can confide in right now.

It takes me a few moments to find my words. When I do, I say them with the fervor of a religious devotee: “The Luna knows what she’s doing.”

We’re proof of that. I’m a former schoolteacher with a wolf who only finds her claws and fangs when one of her own is in danger. He’s a beast of an Alpha with a need to defend his entire pack from the rest of the world—and who is strong enough to do it. On paper, we never should’ve worked, but we do and I thank the Luna daily for that.

He nods, agreeing with me. “She has her reasons. Just wish I could understand ‘em this time.”

“Maybe this is good for them,” I suggest. “Helene would’ve taken him as her bonded mate anytime over the last couple of years. West is the one who insisted on waiting.”

I shouldn’t butt into their mating, but as a maternal delta, I tend to treat my packmates as my pups. Because Helene is Bishop’s only biological family, it was inevitable I’d grow close to her. I did. In a way, I replaced the mother she lost when she was a mere pup herself, and whenever she needed a mature wolf to talk to about her relationship with West, she turned to me.

Of course. Discussing her mating life with her brother would be bad enough, but knowing that Bishop and West are as close as brothers themselves? No. I was a much safer confidant, and I know how much she wished that West would understand that a heart’s mate was just as precious as a fated mate.

I got lucky. Fate might have given Bishop to me, but I like to think that—once I got over my reaction to his size and his gruff nature—I would’ve recognized that my heart beat only for him regardless of what the Luna said. But West… he was so sure that, one day, our goddess would reward his devotion by giving him Helene as his fated mate that he refused to take her as a chosen mate before then.

So he waited. And because Helene loves him, she went along with it. They were together, but not bonded, and now…

“Maybe he’ll realize that he left her open for her fated mate to find her and claim her before Rafael can.”

I would hope so. But when Bishop sucks in a breath, then lets it out in a rush, I know that he’s thinking about the situation just like any other Alpha would.

All these years later and he swears that the best gift he’s ever been given was my name whispered to him following his Alpha Ceremony. He didn’t know me. Knew nothing more than my name. It didn’t matter. The Luna said I was his and that was that.

Is that how it would be for Rafael and Helene?

I don’t know, but I’m sure that’s what Bishop is thinking, especially when he says, “Maybe, cher. And maybe it was meant to be this way.”

“My love?”

Bishop shakes his head. “It’s what the Luna wants. Helene will be protected by an Alpha of her own. And West?—”

He swallows roughly. I soften my voice as I run my fingers lightly over his flannel; I can’t quite touch his heart, but my intent is clear. “What about your Beta?”

“If Helene isn’t his, then that means he has his own fated mate out there. He can find that female.”

He won’t. Whether Helene will accept Rafael’s proposition or not, I can’t say. Like her brother, she’s devoted to her pack, reveres the Goddess, and will always put others before herself. If the Luna says she’s meant for the Alpha of a neighboring pack, I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides it would be in everyone’s best interest for her to accept him. For an empathic she-wolf, it’s amazing how easily she can disregard her own feelings.

But West? I knew from the moment I first saw the future Beta interact with the newly christened Omega that he was desperately in love with her. They were only sixteen then, and it took three years for him to finally find the nerve and tell her how he felt, but they’ve been together ever since. West was so sure that Helene was his fated mate, he chose to wait until the Luna would tell him so to claim her. Finding out that she isn’t ? He won’t let her go. I know that much. Helene is his mate. Even if she isn’t his fated mate, and another she-wolf is, that won’t change a damn thing for the Beta.

I know that. I also know that Bishop does, too.

No wonder he didn’t want to tell Helene and West about the phone call and the prospective mating with the Gravetail Alpha just yet…

But he has to.

“You can’t keep this from them,” I say.

“I wouldn’t?—”

I press my palm against his pec. “I know, my love. And I know how much you want to see both Helene and West happy. Whether that’s together or not… you’re the Alpha. But when it comes to the heart, Bishop… sometimes there are things that not even the most dominant wolf can control.”

I like his dominance. It might have frightened me at first, but by the time I saw just how far he would go to keep me as his mate… I was already drawn to him. Seeing his gentle side had stolen my heart, but his possessive wolf coming out as he challenged Declan was it for me.

But that was me . Helene… she has to handle this one on her own, and as though Bishop just needed that push from me to accept that, he finally does with another sigh.

“You’re right. I’m gonna send Tucker to bring Helene to me. I’ll tell her first.”

That’s a good idea. If Bishop goes to see Helene at the Omega cabin, odds are that some of our nosier packmates will overhear their conversation. She’s positioned in the heart of pack land where her omega she-wolf can reach as many of us as possible. Good for keeping the pack close-knit and strong; bad for any sort of private conversations. The den, however, is a place where any packmate can visit to petition Bishop without fear of their concerns getting out to the rest of the pack.

“What about West?”

Bishop exhales roughly. “He’s on patrol. He’ll find out eventually, but once he’s back in Hickory… I’ll make sure he knows that this is Helene’s choice.”

It has to be. She’s the one who is a fated mate now, and she can either accept Rafael and leave West… or she can reject the Alpha-heir and stay with her heart’s mate.

I don’t envy her the decision. For me? There wasn’t one. Not really. I chose to accept my fated mate, and it was the best choice I ever made in my life.

“Would you like me to stay? I can help explain it to Helene.”

Bishop squeezes my side in an undeniably possessive gesture while sending a pulse of love down our bond. “She’ll need you later, cher. I’m sure of that. But for now… I think I should do this on my own.”

I expected as much of my Alpha. I press a quick kiss to the underside of his bearded jaw. “You know I love you, Bishop.”

“My heart beats for you,” he says gruffly. “It has from the moment we met. It’s never stopped, Sofia. It never will.”

My own heart swells with pure affection for this male. “Just making sure. Some bonds are fated. Some are chosen. Some are forged in time. Whatever Helene chooses, that’s her choice. Same with West. But you and me… we were meant to be. I want you to know that.”

“Ah, cher. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that.”

“Good.” I pat him on the chest again before sliding off of his lap. “And if you ever forget that for a second? You call me. I’ll be here to remind you of that any time you doubt my love for you.”

Bishop leans forward in his seat, propping his elbows on the desk. “You always could see right through me. And, I swear, you always know just the right things to say to settle my wolf.”

I laugh. “I’m your mate. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s not all, I hope.”

Because I can’t help myself, I lean in and give him one more kiss. I mean for it to be a peck, but Bishops knows me as well as I know him. He parts his lips, inviting me in, and before I know it, I’m inches away from climbing back into his lap to show him just what else a mate can do with her male.

I don’t. I can’t. If we were in our bedroom, that’s a different story. Together, Bishop can shake off being the Alpha when we’re alone. In the den, though… he can’t, and I have to do my part as Alpha female and remember that.

But that doesn’t mean I pull away from him just yet.

“The Luna doesn’t always get it right,” I whisper against his lips. I know that’s what he’s thinking. That, for Helene and West’s sake, for the sake of their fated mates—the Alpha whose only crime is not being our Beta, and the faceless female who might one day be meant for West—the Luna is wrong. But when it comes to us… “Not all fated mates are meant to be, but we are. And we always will be.”

I mean that. From the depths of my heart and soul, my words ringing with truth that my beloved mate will never ping as a lie, I promise myself again to the one male I’ve ever loved—or ever will.

“Ma cher,” he groans softly.

I nipple his bottom lip.

My mate .