Page 45 of Destined Mate

He hurried to the room he’d been held captive in and eased the door open, his heart racing as he stared inside.

In seconds flat he went from aroused to anxious.

His heart, which had been pounding with excitement, now thudded heavily with an uncomfortable tension. A chill crept over his skin, replacing the warmth of anticipation with a prickling unease.

The space felt both familiar and suffocating, a constant reminder of his ordeal. Without hesitation, he moved directly toward the shower. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could get out of that room.

Plus, the clothes clung to his skin like a second, unwanted layer, their fabric too tight and too slick against his body, reminding him of how—he shuddered.

Nope. He wasn’t going there. He needed to wash away the remnants of the auction, the traces of what Elmer had planned for him. It wouldn’t come true now.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have nightmares about it, even if he’d known how it was all going to end. He was fortunate, unlike many others, and he knewthatwas going to be the reason he’d be plagued by nightmares.

That reminded him. What about the pack that bought him? What were they going to do aboutthat?

Jerome stripped down and turned on the water, letting it get hotter than necessary before stepping in. He closed his eyes against the steam and the rush of thoughts.

The challenge had been brutal. Quick, but brutal. Just like everything else under Elmer’s rule. Jerome didn’t feel bad that Elmer and his betas were dead. Not even a little bit. He called them rubbish, and that’s what they were.

He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to think clearly about the challenge as he washed. At first, Jerome believed Elmer would win because, holy hell, he’d been huge, just absolutely ginormous as a wolf.

But Wesley was faster than any wolf Jerome had seen. And white. He’d never seen a white wolf before. Much less seen an alpha’s third form. He’d heard some could do that, but he’d always assumed it was just an old wives’ tale. Li Li hadn’t been able to shift into that.

Was it a Fated mate thing?

But that made little sense. A tentative bond had started between them—yes, he had felt it—but until the bite was done, the bond was not completed.

Okay, maybe it was just a Wesley thing.

Or a thing Wesley’s pack could do. Who knew, and frankly, Jerome didn’t care how Wesley could shift into that monstrous third form, the air crackling with barely contained power. He could, which made Wesley an even more powerful alpha.

His alpha.

His wolf was ecstatic that Wesley was their mate, but Jerome was less sure. There was an undeniable pull toward Wesley, a magnetic attraction he’d never experienced with Li Li, and this unfamiliar sensation intrigued him.

The desire to roll in Wesley’s scent until he was covered in it was overwhelming, an instinctive need his wolf craved. When they were near each other, the air hummed with an electric intensity, almost as if nature itself acknowledged the bond forming between them.

Still, Wesley was new and unknown. Plus, things were kind of a mess right now, and Jerome wasn’t sure how to process any part of this. And after the last week, everyone was weak—some physically worn out, but others just emotionally spent from the never-ending stress.

Or lack of food.

He scrubbed shampoo into his hair as soapy water splashed around his feet and carried a bit of anger away with it. Once he rinsed his hair, he leaned his forehead against the tile wall and just… breathed.

Wesley really seemed like a good wolf. He already knew that Wesley would treat them better than the bastard who’d tried taking everything from Jerome.

It was evident in Wesley’s demeanor as he interacted with them. His calm and reassuring presence put everyone at ease. He hadn’t raised his voice or showed frustration toward the pack members he’d interacted with.

Instead, he’d treated each of them with respect and understanding.

It was the small gestures, like comforting Al, placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder, or letting Jerome know he could leave the room if he wished. The things they’d once taken for granted had now become significant, and wasn’t that sad?

Jerome shut off the water, then dried off. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he padded across the floor to the small wardrobe where his limited selection of clothing was stored.

One thing he was certain of. With Wesley being their new alpha? They’d be secure again because Wesley cared whether they lived or died or were happy or safe. Or loved.

Like how an alpha should.

Jerome dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans. He pulled them on quickly, eager to see Wesley again. He moved through the halls, following the scent of cedar to the other room.

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