Page 226 of The Alpha's Second Chance Mate

Hands wrapped around me and strong, muscular arms encircled me, embracing my body. Unsure who was touching me, I swung my hand out to strike them in the face—at least, that’s what Itried to do. Attempting the maneuver only resulted in a feeble wave of my hand.

“Are you okay?” The arms released me and began to feel around my body, squeezing my shoulders and legs gently, probing for injuries. “Can you hear me? Mom? Are you okay?”

Mom? I blinked rapidly, and my vision finally cleared enough for me to see Ashton gazing down at me with concern.

“Ash?” I rasped.

“Yeah,” he said, and grinned. He looked so much like his father that it sent a surge of love through me so powerful that I managed to throw off the rest of the effects of the drug.

“Oh my God.” I sat up, pain exploding in my skull. He frowned as I ran my hands over his face, arms, and chest. I couldn’t believe he was real. Alive and within reach.

“Mom, chill.” He took my hands. “I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’m okay,” I said, then promptly swooned and nearly fell back over. Ashton barely managed to catch me and ease me back down. “Holy shit,” I muttered, putting a hand to my head. “My head is throbbing.”

“They drugged you. It’s the same thing they did to me,” Ashton said.

Staring up into his face, I couldn’t help but think he’d aged in the time he was gone. The soft corners of boyhood had fled, replaced by the masculine angles of manhood. It hurt my soul knowing he’d been here alone all this time. I couldn’t have controlled the tears even if I’d wanted to. They streamed out of my eyes as I reached up and brushed my son’s cheek.

“Ah, jeez, Mom,” Ashton said, his mouth twisting to the side. “Don’t cry.”

I clawed at his shirt and dragged him down to hug him. Regardless of how big he was, he would always be the tiny baby I held in my arms after the hours of agony to bring him into the world. Nothing would change that. He could be sixty years old, and he’d still be my baby.

“Mom, you’re choking me,” he croaked.

Reluctantly, I released him and sat up again, this time more gingerly. I looked around. We were in a bedroom. It looked nice and comfortable, with expensive furniture, hand-carved wooden accents, high-end wallpaper, and antique wall sconces.

I’d known Kyle had sent the men who killed Porter. Had sent them to take me, but it hadn’ttrulysunk in until right at that moment. We were in a very dangerous situation, but seeing my son again made it bearable. I knew that once Cole realized I’d been taken, he’d burn the world down to get us back. All we had to do was survive until he came for us.

“What happened?” Ashton asked. “How did they manage to grab you? I thought you were staying with Dad.”

I blinked at Ash, confused about who he was talking about. Then, in a flash, I realized why it was strange. He’d never called anyone “Dad” before. The fact that he was calling Cole that nearly brought me to tears again. There was too much going on for me to dissolve into a puddle of emotion, though.

“Two men came for me,” I explained, still looking around at the room. “They…” I stopped, unsure how to go on. Ashton knew Porter. He’d been a family friend like Zayde and Langston. I didn’t want to devastate him, but with everything going on, heneeded to knowexactlyhow dangerous things were. “I called Langston to come help get you back, and?—”

“Langston’s here?” Ashton asked. “For real?”

I nodded. “He brought Zayde and Porter with him.” I put my hand on his cheek again. “Baby, those men killed Porter. He’s gone, Ashton.”

He stared at me, face emotionless, as though he were some image on a screen that had frozen in place. Then, slowly, his forehead furrowed, and his face twisted into a mask of incomprehension.

“Porter is… he’sdead?” He shook his head as if he could negate the facts with that simple movement.

“He is. I’m sorry, sweetie. He was a good man. One of the best.”

Ashton jerked away from my hand, standing up and pacing around the room, his fists clenching and unclenching. I’d never seen such anger from my son.

“I hate him, Mom,” he growled. “I hate him.It was all I could do not to try and tear his head off when he carried you in here earlier. Now, I wish I had. He deserves it for what he did to Porter, toyou.”

“What did Kyle say when he brought me in? Anything?”

Ashton gave his head a vicious shake. “Nothing. I told him to get away from you, and he did as I asked.”

“He did what you said?” Kyle didn’t seem like the kind of person to take orders, especially not from a teenager.

Ashton stopped his pacing, though his hands still clenched and unclenched unconsciously. “He’s messed up in the head. Theguy’s crazy. He actually thinks of himself as my father or father figure or something. Has me calling himDad.” He grunted in disgust and resumed pacing.

I shivered at the thought of Ashton calling Kyle that. The mere thought of it nearly made the contents of my stomach come rocketing out of my mouth.

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