Page 11 of Alpha Bride

His eyes widen, but to his credit, he doesn’t flinch. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re feeling better, but I guess we both know the answer.”

I level him with a stare, debating what to say when I can’t even articulate it to myself properly, but he continues before I can say anything. “Is this about the rogues, Malik, or that girl that’s got you in knots? Not your brothers, all seems well there, I—”

I scoff before cutting him off, “She doesn’t have me in knots.”

Ryan chuckles. “Garret’s sore head would beg to differ. And I’m sure that alpha, Nolan, would have a different impression, too.”

“Matters of principle,” I shrug, knowing I’m lying.

“Whatever, big guy,” Ryan replies. “Principles matter, but I’m sure Emily would be less inclined to go looking for attention elsewhere if you weren’t running around the forest day and night or slogging it out in this smelly gym instead of getting to know your mate.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him, standing.

He sighs. “So, try me. What’s going on?” Ryan asks. “You’re like a bear with a sore head; she’s hot, and everyone likes her. Why won’t you give the union a chance? You stepped up for it.”

I run a hand through my damp hair in exasperation. I don’t want to have this conversation; I don’t want to admit how hard my wolf is riding me to take her and the effort it’s taking to keep away. I don’t want to admit that she has a hold over me.

“She’s a witch, Ryan,” I say simply. “I don’t trust witches. I stepped up so no one else would have to deal with her—end of. Let’s just focus on Malik. The union has stopped the witches from going on strike, so let’s not waste precious time. I’m sure they’ll let us down eventually.”

Ryan lets out a low whistle. “You really don’t like them witches, do you?” he says. “Any reason for that?”

“Old Ralph may have been a mean bastard, but I’m yet to see he was wrong about the witches,” I tell him. “I’ve seen it for myself.”

“Care to elaborate?” Ryan asks, interest dancing behind his eyes.

“No. I do not,” I say, walking away to hit the showers and wash away all thoughts of Emily—a damn cold shower.

Staying out late has become the norm. Emily appears to be something of a night owl, so I have to keep pushing it later and later to avoid bumping into her. I do back-to-back patrols with two different groups, and I’m finally feeling tired as I open the door quietly; the irony of sneaking into my own house to avoid a beautiful woman isn’t lost on me.

My entire home smells of her; it’s everywhere. It’s in the very fabric of the walls, inescapable. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the way my wolf reacts to her scent. My wolf thinks she’s ours, but he’s wrong. He can’t tell the difference between her magic and a genuine bond.

I move through the house silently, heading for the kitchen. Everything appears quiet until my sensitive hearing picks up the sound of doors closing and Emily’s hushed voice.

“No, it’s okay, I’m coming,” she whispers, followed by, “he’s not back yet. I’ll head up the trail and meet you there.”

Who the fuck is she meeting at this hour? My wolf is instantly on alert, seething as I consider Ryan’s warning.She may be less inclined to look for attention elsewhere.Is she sneaking out to be with someone else? The thought is immediate, and so is the rage that follows.

Her senses are clearly less than any shifter’s, as I only have to hide in the shadows to disguise myself as she slips from the house. She’s obviously so used to me not being here that she barely even checks her surroundings. I fire off a quick text to the late patrol to track my signal and then allow her the illusion of a moment’s headstart before following her, staying in the shadows and tracking her movements down the street to the head of a trail leading into the forest.

With a sigh, I push my anger down and focus on tracking her. I know this forest like the back of my hand, and her scent is clear enough that I follow it easily. My heart races as I watch her disappear into the darkness, knowing full well what could be waiting for her out there.

The full moon paints everything in a silver glow, glinting off the dew that clings to every leaf and blade of grass. She looks stunning in the moonlight, her pale skin seeming to glow from within. Her alluring scent seems even stronger out here in the open air, and the urge to claim her overwhelms me. I have to fight it back, moving into the tree line and following her from afar.

She disappears around a bend in the trail, and I hesitate only for a moment before continuing. My senses are heightened; I can hear the soft rustle of leaves as she moves, smell her fear even from yards away, and taste the adrenaline in the air as my wolf growls low in my throat.

As I turn the corner, I see her standing completely still, listening. Her body is tense, with her shoulders back and hands clenched into fists at her sides. She’s alone and so vulnerable out on this trail. It’s like she learned nothing from being attacked years ago. I’ve seen her train, and she’d be no match against the rogues.

I hear it long before she does, thanks to my shifter sense—the sound of footsteps approaching. And then my nose detects who she’s out here meeting before they even come into view. A witch—an injured girl limps toward her, and Emily instantly relaxes. The witch is shaking with fear, but doesn’t run when she sees Emily. They don’t appear to know each other, and the witch hangs back slightly, conversing in hushed whispers, their voices barely audible in the night air. I listen intently, my hackles rising even more at the mention of Malik and his rogues.

I stay hidden, watching as Emily seemingly reassures the young witch, helping her to lean against a tree for support. She appears to be trying to talk her into coming back to town, but the girl is resisting for some reason. Behind me on the trail, I hear the sound of the late patrol approaching the area. The young witch appears to hear something, too, and stands, ready to try and run despite her injuries. It occurs to me that Emily may follow her deeper into the forest, which I can’t have. The drive to protect her—or control her—feels almost overwhelming.

Decision made, I step out of the shadows. “Emily,” I say, my voice low and threatening, “what the hell is going on?”

The patrol howls in the distance, and the young witch panics, lunging away from Emily and into the trees at a surprising pace, considering her injuries.

“Wait,” Emily cries, turning to follow.

Without hesitation, I summon the power of the wind, focusing on Emily as it gathers power and pushes her back toward me. I grab hold of her, crushing her to my body just as the patrol breaks through the trees. I turn to the night watch leader, McCabe, gesturing in the direction the witch fled. “Track a young witch that way. She’s injured, but watch yourself with her magic; she’s scared and might retaliate.”

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