Page 20 of The Alpha's Runaway Mate
The sound that rips from me is low and sharp, more growl than word. “Watch your mouth,” I snarl. “And never call my mate a mistake again.”
Her laugh stutters out, too high, too forced. “Touchy,” she says, voice too bright, but her eyes flicker with something nervous.
“Not my first,” I mutter, already walking away.
She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t follow. I can feel her watching me, though, that sharp, jealous energy crawling up my back until I slam the office door behind me and the noise of the bar muffles to a dull hum.
The quiet’s worse. It leaves room for thought.
Hands on the desk. I breathe. The smell of whiskey, wood, and old leather hangs heavy in the air, but underneath it is something softer, pine, smoke, and the ghost of her shampoo. Jessica. My chest tightens before I can stop it. I can still feelher warmth, the small, unconscious sound she made when she finally fell asleep. The way her fingers brushed my chest like her body needed to make sure I was real.
Leaving her was the right call. Logic says so. But logic doesn’t ease the ache in my chest. The bond hums low and alive under my skin, aware she’s not here. My bear paces inside me, restless, clawing against my control. Every instinct I’ve got wants to turn my truck around, crawl back into that bed, and guard her until the world forgets our names.
I exhale, jaw tight. The desk creaks under my hands as I brace against it and stare at the wood grain until it stops moving.
Two minutes later, the door opens without a knock. Only family does that. Xander steps in first, all sharp edges and quiet calculation. He’s the middle brother, my strategist, my second. Too calm, too smart for his own good. Kolt follows right behind him, broader, a storm in motion, my third and the kind of fighter who never learned how to back down. They don’t bother pretending this is a social call.
We take a beat to not say we missed each other.
“Talk,” I say.
Kolt jumps in first, voice clipped but heavy. He lays it out clean, the rumor that drew them east, the old tracks, the new ones. Declan stepping out of the trees smiling like a man who remembered he had a face. The water. The laughter that wasn’t right. The blankness that slid over him when he looked back toward the woods.
“He said there was a pull,” Kolt finishes, voice rough. “Said he had to go back.”
“Back where?” I ask.
“He didn’t say.” Kolt grimaces. “And he wouldn’t cross the line with us.”
Xander crosses his arms, expression unreadable. “He smells wrong,” he says. “Not vamp. Not witch-work. Not wolf stink. Deeper. Like the ridge itself stuck to him.”
The ridge. My stomach knots. Nothing good ever comes out of that stretch of forest. “We’re not chasing into that blind,” I say. “Tighten the perimeter. Have the witches do another ward loop. No one goes out back alone. Keep the wolves from getting handsy. Check with the river pack, see if they’ve lost anyone.”
Kolt’s jaw ticks. “And Declan?”
“We look,” I tell him. “But we don’t feed that forest three Doyles because we got sentimental.”
That shuts down the room. Xander nods once, crisp and controlled. Kolt blows out a slow breath, then tips his chin at me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re different,” he says.
I raise a brow. “Since when?”
“Since you found her,” Kolt says, grin widening. “You look like you’re ready to fight a war and build a nursery in the same afternoon.”
I huff, half a laugh, half a warning. “You always this mouthy to your Alpha?”
“Only when he starts acting human,” Kolt shoots back.
“Knock it off,” Xander mutters, but there’s amusement under it.
They’re my brothers. My second and third. My blood and my bond. And they’re not wrong. Something in me is different. Sharper. Anchored. “She’s at my place,” I say finally. “Sleeping. Don’t say her name here.”
“Copy,” Xander replies immediately, tone all business again.
Kolt’s smirk fades. “You really think this ridge thing’s connected?”
“I think everything that crawls out of that forest is connected,” I answer. “And if Declan’s been touched by it, we deal with it before it spreads.”
The silence that follows is heavy. The kind that only comes before a storm. Outside, the bar hums, wolves posturing, witches bargaining, vampires pretending they don’t need an audience. It’s the same chaos as always. But for the first time in years, I realize I’ve got something to lose.
