Page 26 of Alpha Bride

"We need to get the witches out of here. The coven isn’t safe, and the main house is burning," he says gruffly. I look over his shoulder and see the smoke rising in the distance. Marian has obviously summoned some water magic, but I’d say the damage is done.

I nod. “Have Marian round up her sisters. They can follow us down in their own vehicles.” I pull out my phone and issue an alert for the patrols to gather at our location. “We’ll get the border resecured.”

Ryan nods and then grimly indicates up the trail. “It appears they forced that poor young witch into opening a rune checkpoint.”

I let out a breath, knowing that it was good news they weren’t able to break through on their own, but also knowing how hard the witches take losing one of their own. We’ve lost enough and know how it feels.

I keep Emily close, neither saying much while Marian and her sisters gather the wounded and their fallen witch. We help them into their trucks to follow us down the mountain. I thought for sure Marian would kick off when I suggested staying in town until the coven house is secure, but she surprised me by agreeing immediately. By the time we reach the town and settle the witches into the large hall with the help of the entire pack offering bedding and food, it’s getting late. I have to practicallydrag Emily away as she takes charge of distributing items and helping some of the witches make dinner.

At one point, I find myself looking around as shifters and witches work together to turn the hall into a temporary living space. They work together and even laugh despite the circumstances. Marian, usually so self-assured and formidable, seems different in her role as a leader today, softer with the younger witches who are in mourning and scared. She is defiant at moments when she talks of revenge, but altogether more of a true leader of her people than I’ve ever appreciated before.

And Emily, she’s like a bridge between our worlds. Moving through the hall, directing people and answering questions, offering advice, and remaining completely calm despite all she’s been through today. Almost like a true…luna.

I finally pull Emily from the hall as the sun sets, exhaustion written all over her features. We drive the short distance to the house in silence, entering the house and standing in the entrance hall, almost at a loss as to what to do next, our argument hanging between us, painfully unspoken.

“Well,” Emily says quietly, “I should get some sleep.”

She turns as if to go to her room, and I instinctively reach for her hand and pull her back. “I can’t be away from you tonight,” I tell her plainly. “I need you.”

She eyes me for a moment, and I’m genuinely not sure what I’ll do, what my wolf will do if she says no. Thankfully, she nods and allows me to lead her through the house to my room. It’s dark when we enter, and she disappears into the en-suite. I’m weary as I strip off my clothes, discarding them in the basket as I wait for her to emerge.

When she does, she’s wearing one of my oversized t-shirts from the back of the en-suite door, her arms and legs stillshowing the marks of the earlier battle, covered in scrapes and bruises. My wolf paces restlessly within me, needing to be close to her, feel her near me, and reassure myself she’s safe. That our baby is safe. As she climbs onto the bed and lies down on her side, facing away from me, I crawl in behind her and wrap my arms around her waist.

She stiffens for a moment before relaxing into my embrace. It’s not what I want, but it’s a start. Instead of pouncing on her like my wolf wants to, I lie there with her, holding on to her as if she’s the only thing keeping me sane in our world gone mad. It’s when I hear the sound of her gently sniffling, realizing she’s crying, that I can’t take it anymore. I gently roll her over, cupping her face as I wipe the tears away with my thumb, painfully aware that my calloused hands need to be gentle on her far softer skin.

“I’m sorry,” I say, struggling to find the words. “For everything. For not being there sooner. For not being a better man. I—”

She takes me by complete surprise when she cuts me off with a kiss. It’s a gentle kiss that cuts right through my words to the emotions that lie underneath, saying more than I ever could. As her lips part under mine and the kiss deepens, I taste the saltiness of her tears mixed with her natural sweetness. Her fingers twist in my hair as she deepens the kiss, and suddenly, I’m lost in her.

I trail my hand down her side, over the soft skin of her stomach, where our baby grows. She shivers slightly at the touch, and I smile against her lips before dipping further down to trace patterns on her thighs with my fingers. She’s mine, and I need to mark her as such and prove it to both of us.

My hand moves between her legs, pushing the shirt up and over her head, revealing her body to me in the half-light. My cock jerks at the sight of her ready for me, aching for release. With one swift move, I slide my hand underneath her panties and press two fingers into her pussy, feeling the heat and wetness surround them as she gasps against my mouth.

Her hips buck against my hand as I begin to finger fuck her with long, deep strokes, the sound of her pleasure filling the room. My other hand slides up her naked body, teasing a nipple until it stands erect before taking it into my mouth. She arches against me at the dual sensation, and it’s too much for me to take any longer.

I nudge her legs apart and position myself between them before slowly pushing into her tight heat. She gasps at the intrusion but meets my thrusts, as eager for me as I am for her. My voice is raw as I whisper, “mine,” against her skin, feeling the claiming of her body and soul as I begin to move.

Her nails dig into my shoulders as she finds her rhythm with me, matching each forceful thrust with a moan of pleasure. Our lovemaking after such a brutal day is primal and messy, but it’s what we both need. To feel alive and connected in a world that appears to want us dead or apart. And when she comes, screaming my name, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard and all the confirmation that my wolf needs. She is mine, bewitchment or not.

But just because she wants me tonight, does that mean she’s forgiven me?

Chapter 14 - Emily

My stomach roils as the bile rises in my throat, and I barely make it to the bowl before I dry heave. I didn’t expect the nausea to kick in so fast, though I’m not sure what I expected at all, given that I’ve never been pregnant before.

The smell of breakfast being cooked down the hall filters through, but the thought of food turns my stomach even more, and all I can do is try to breathe through the waves of discomfort. The room spins as I lean against the bathroom counter, my knuckles white against the cold surface as I wash my mouth out and clean my face.

I hear Tristen approaching through the haze, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. He slides an arm around my waist and leads me toward the couch in the living room. He grabs a damp cloth from a basket near the fireplace and gently wipes my forehead and cheeks, coolness soothing my flushed skin. "Drink this," he says, pressing a cup of water into my hands.

I gratefully gulp down the cool liquid, sitting up straighter in relief when it doesn't come straight back up again. "Thanks." My voice is hoarse, but at least it doesn't sound like death anymore.

"You need to eat something," he insists, his worry etched deep in his brows. "You haven't eaten since yesterday." His fingers brush through his dark hair in frustration as he looks at me, like, really looks at me, for the first time this morning, his eyes filled with concern. I must really look in a complete state.

"I'll try," I manage, knowing it is important even though my stomach still churns at the thought. But as he turns andheads back to the kitchen, I can already feel the nausea starting to creep back in again.

He must sense it, because he returns quickly with a simple plate of toast, setting it on the coffee table in front of me with another glass of water. “Let’s just start with something simple, okay? " he says as I eye up the food cautiously.

The smell makes my eyes water, but I force myself to take a bite of the toast. It's still warm, and the butter melts against my tongue. Tristen watches me carefully as I pick at the food, his expression unreadable.

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