Page 58 of Brutal Alpha's Forced Mate

The others regroup, but the scene blurs at the edges for me. All I can focus on is Jaslyn—the pale set of her face, the trembling in her hands as the adrenaline drains from her body. My arms stay locked around her, holding her upright, but it’s my wolf that needs to be grounded. It’s still snarling, pacing inside me, haunted by how close she came to being ripped from me.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I admit.

She tilts her head to look at me, and as her green eyes search mine, I know she sees it—the fear I can’t hide.

“I’m okay,” she says again, softer this time. “Gray, you stopped it. You protected me.”

“That thing was seconds away from tearing into you,” I grind out. “Do you have any idea—” I stop as the words choke me. “If I’d been a step slower, Jas…”

“But you weren’t. You were there. You always are.”

The trust in her voice is both a balm and a blade. She doesn’t understand how close I came to losing her. Not just to the demon, but to the chaos of this whole mission. My hands tighten on her arms, and I press my forehead to hers, letting the warmth of her presence soothe the storm in my chest.

“I can’t lose you,” I admit. “Not to demons. Not to anything.”

She goes still for a moment. Then, slowly, her arms come up to wrap around my neck, and she holds me as tightly as I’m holding her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But the words don’t stop the images flashing in my mind: the demon lunging, her shield faltering, the endless possibilities of what could’ve happened if I’d been a heartbeat too late. My wolf snarls at the memory, and I pull her closer as the fear manifests in an almost desperate need to feel her solid and alive in my arms.

“I mean it, Jas,” I rasp. “Promise me you won’t take risks like that again. I don’t care what’s at stake—your life is more important.”

Her hands slide down to cup my face, forcing me to look at her. “I can’t promise I’ll always play it safe, but I can promise you this: I’ll fight to survive.”

The conviction in her eyes steadies something fragile in me. She means it. She’s not just saying the words to soothe me, she’s making a vow. My hands come up to cover hers, and I lean into her touch, letting the knot in my chest loosen just a little.

“The others are waiting,” she points out.

I nod, but I don’t let her go just yet. “Jaslyn…”

“Gray,” she interrupts gently, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I’m here.”

But the fear doesn’t leave me, not entirely. It lingers, a quiet shadow in the back of my mind, a reminder of how close I came to losing her.

As we rejoin the group, my wolf’s instincts narrow in on one thing: protect her at all costs.

Chapter 20 - Jaslyn

The noise hits me first—cheering, clapping, the unmistakable buzz of celebration—and my stomach twists like I’ve walked into the wrong room at a party I wasn’t invited to.

We’ve barely stepped foot past the packhouse gates, and the crowd is already rushing toward us, all bright eyes and jubilant smiles. Someone shouts my name—myname—and the sound ricochets through me. For a second, I consider turning around and running back into the forest.

Instead, I grit my teeth and force a smile. A poor one, if the way Madison’s eyebrows knit together when she spots me is anything to go by.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” Madison’s voice is clear and warm, and before I can escape, she’s throwing an arm around my shoulders like we’re old friends. “You’re a hero, Jaslyn,” she gushes.

“Hardly,” I mutter, but the words drown in the rising wave of chatter around us.

A small child darts forward, holding something in her tiny hands. A flower. I crouch to her level, ignoring the way my knees protest after days of hiking and fighting.

“For me?” I ask, and the girl nods shyly, her big brown eyes wide as saucers. I take the flower, trying not to crush the delicate stem with my trembling fingers. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Her mother beams from the sidelines, and the child scurries back to her, leaving me crouched there like an idiot with a daisy in my hand. Someone else pushes forward—a man thistime. As soon as I’m upright again, he grips my shoulder like he’s known me forever.

“You saved us,” he says. “All of us. Thank you.”

I nod, swallowing hard. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? You’re welcome for not dying?

Before I can come up with an answer, someone else is stepping forward. Then another. And another. The crowd presses closer, their voices blending into a cacophony of gratitude and admiration that makes my chest feel tight.

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