Page 14 of The Alpha's Runaway Mate
I want to resist. Ishouldresist. The last time I gave into a man, it didn’t end well. That monster broke me down piece by piece, made me doubt my worth, my strength, my sanity. He did things I can’t forget, things I regret ever allowing to happen. I swore I’d never give anyone that kind of power again.
But this man, this beast standing in front of me, isn’t the same. I know it deep in my bones, in that strange electric space between fear and trust. My body knows before my brain does.
I shake my head, hugging myself tighter. “You don’t owe me anything, Nolan.”
His voice softens, but the command doesn’t leave it. “You’re wrong about that.”
He stands there, breathing deep, like he’s trying to keep the beast inside from breaking through again. When he finally meets my eyes, his expression is calm, but there’s no give in it. None.
“You’re not staying here tonight.”
My stomach tightens. “What?”
He nods toward the tent. “Pack your stuff. You’re done here.”
I blink, caught between disbelief and exhaustion. “You can’t just tell me what to do.”
“I can,” he says, quiet but absolute. “You can be mad at me later. But you’re not spending another night out here.”
His tone leaves no room for argument. I open my mouth to fight him anyway, then shut it again when I see the look in his eyes. It isn’t anger, it’s worry. Something primal and solid and impossible to argue with.
“This isn’t up for debate, Jessica.”
My shoulders slump. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
So I move, because fighting him feels pointless and, if I’m honest, because I’m too damn tired to keep pretending I’ve got this under control. I shove my few belongings into a duffel, some clothes, a toothbrush, a few keepsakes I can’t bring myself to let go of.
Nolan crouches beside me without a word, helping roll up the tent. He’s efficient and quiet, his big hands making the whole process look effortless. It should annoy me, how capable he is, but mostly it just makes my chest tight.
When everything’s packed, he nods toward my truck. “Keys.”
I hesitate. “I can drive.”
He arches a brow, and something about the look makes me just… hand them over. He doesn’t thank me or gloat, just takes them and heads for the driver’s side like it’s already decided.
“Get in, Jessica.”
I sigh, muttering something about bossy shifters under my breath, but I climb in anyway.
We drive in silence, the trees sliding past like dark sentinels on either side of the road. The bond hums under my skin, quiet but steady, a pulse that won’t let me forget he’s right there. I can feel his energy even without looking at him, solid, unshakable, heavy like gravity.
When we crest a hill and the headlights sweep over his house, my breath catches.
It’s not a house. It’s a lodge, massive, built from thick logs and stone, with warm golden light glowing through the windows. A wide wraparound porch circles the whole thing, strung with lights like captured stars. Two rocking chairs flank the frontdoor, and beyond the porch, the dark line of the forest stretches toward the base of a mountain rising in the distance, half-hidden by mist.
Nolan cuts the engine. “We’re here.”
I stare. “This is your place?”
He nods once. “Yeah.”
“It’s… huge.”
He smirks faintly. “It needs to be.”
Before I can ask what that means, he’s out of the truck and coming around to my side. I clutch my duffel tighter, half wanting to argue, half too tired to bother. He opens my door and holds out a hand. “Come on.”
