Page 8 of The Cheerleader

His jaw tightens. There’s something cold in his eyes when he finally looks at me. Something I’ve never seen before, like the world is about to crack open, and he’s bracing for it.

“You’re not ready,” he says, his voice low. “You’re never going to be ready for what happens after.”

I don’t understand. “After what?”

“After you let them get too close,” he mutters. “After you let an Alpha think he can claim you.”

I swallow hard. “But I thought that’s what we’re supposed to do. Omegas and Alphas. That’s how it works.”

He stands up, his hand gripping the back of the couch like he’s holding himself together.

“Don’t you ever forget it’s not about love. It’s about possession. Control. The second you let them in, you’re theirs. And you don’t want to be theirs, sweetheart. Not unless you want to lose everything.”

“But—”

“I’m serious, Juliet. You stay the hell away from them. You understand me?”

I nod, but the pit in my stomach grows. Because it sounds like he’s talking about something more than just the fated mate bond. It sounds like he’s afraid. And it’s not the only time he says it.

My breath catches, the memory of his words churning in my gut. His face flashes in my mind, the tightness around his eyes, the way he’d look at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. He knew what it was like. Knew what I’d face when I started shifting.

That’s why he drilled it into me. “Stay away from Alphas.” It was more than just a warning. It was a command. And now, here I am. Because I didn’t fucking listen.

The suppressant barely works. It’s too late. The bond is already starting to rip through my mind, tearing down the walls I’ve tried to build. Abel isn’t just an Alpha. He’s my father’s best friend, although we barely know each other. I haven’t seen him since I was a little girl.

And now he’s the one I can’t escape. The one fated to be my mate.

My body aches. My pulse spikes again, and this time it’s more than just heat. It’s his presence creeping into my thoughts, wrapping around my mind like a shackle. I’m not ready for this.

I reach for my phone, fingers trembling, but I stop. There’s no one I can call. No one who can help. Because once the bond takes hold, there’s no going back. And the worst part? The part that makes my stomach twist into knots? I want to give in. I want to let him in.

I want him to claim me. But I can’t. I won’t. Not if it means losing myself.

Chapter Six

Abel

The second I get out of the shower, I can feel it, that nagging, insistent pull. It’s like something inside me is calling for her. I shake my head, trying to focus. I’ve got a dozen things to do. The club needs me. The girls need me. But every goddamn thought is tangled up in one thing.

Her. Juliet.

It’s been hours since I saw her, since I almost ... claimed her.

Fuck. I should’ve walked away the second I smelled her scent. The second that patch hit the floor, and the bond clicked in place. But I didn’t. I stayed. I let myself feel it. And now I can’t stop it. I can’t stop craving her.

I pace the apartment I built above the club so that I was always nearby if anyone needed me. My fists are clenched at my sides. The dark shadows of the club are still with me, the music, the lights, the heat, but that’s not what’s consuming me now.

It’s her.

Her scent lingers in my nose, even when I try to push it away. Even now, as I struggle to ignore the gnawing ache in my chest, I can feel her. The bond is there, wrapping around my ribs, digging into my skin. I don’t want it. I don’t want her. Or at least I shouldn’t.

She’s my best friend’s daughter. She’s off-limits. But the bond doesn’t care. And neither does my wolf. He continues to push, trying to get out, to get to her.

A knock on the door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. I pause, my jaw tight. I know who it is before I open it. Lance, one of the new bouncers at Dark Side of the Moon. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m not in the mood to deal with him, or anyone else right now.

I swing the door open, and he freezes when he sees my face.

“Are you okay, man?” he asks, his voice hesitant. He’s a tall man, tattoos covering his neck and arms, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

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