Page 6 of The Alpha's Runaway Mate
“Eight felt too late,” I murmur, caught in his stare. Were his eyes this blue earlier?
His mouth curves into that dangerous grin that should come with a warning label. “Come on.”
He holds out his hand. I shouldn’t take it. He’s technically my new boss. But the second my palm touches his, something inside meexplodes.Heat shoots up my arm and wraps around my spine. My knees almost give out. Every nerve ending in my body wakes up at once. The world narrows to him, his scent, his heat, his presence. The pull between us hums, sharp and alive. What the hell is happening to me?
He leads me through the crowd, and it’s like the whole bar takes notice. Conversations dip. Heads turn. I can feel eyes on us, but all I see is him. The smell of pine and smoke trails behind him, and I breathe it in like oxygen. When he drops my hand, I almost groan.
He whistles once, sharp and commanding, and the room stills. “This is Jessica,” he says, voice carrying like a growl through the noise. “She’s behind the bar tonight. She’s off-limits. You got a problem with that, you can get the fuck out.”
The words hit me like a spark to gasoline. Possessive. Protective. Hot enough to fry every brain cell I have left. He leads me downa short hall to a cluttered office that smells like leather, wood, and him. I’d bottle that scent if I could.
“You can keep your bag in here,” he says, pulling open a drawer.
“Thanks,” I manage, handing it over even though my hands are trembling.
He talks about hours, pay, and how things work around here, but I barely hear a word. His voice wraps around me, deep and smooth, and I swear it vibrates straight through my bones. Every time he steps closer, my lungs forget their job.
He finishes by telling me not to leave the bar without him. The way he says it sends a rush of goosebumps down my neck.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”
Back in the main room, the music’s heavier. Bass rolls through the floor like thunder. The air’s thick with something wild, like the whole room’s teetering on the edge of losing control.
The crowd looks human at first glance. But not if you really look. Some move too fluidly. Some too still. Their eyes catch the light in colors that don’t exist on normal people. At the pool table, a guy smirks at me, and for a heartbeat, his eyes flash gold. I blink. They’re normal again.
Nolan brushes past me, his arm grazing mine, and my whole body lights up like a live wire. “Stick close,” he murmurs.
“You act like someone’s gonna bite me.”
His eyes flick to mine, serious. “That’s what I’m trying to prevent.”
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “You’re joking, right?”
He doesn’t answer.
A chill slides down my spine, right before heat floods through me again. I’m a mess.
He hands me a towel and shows me the basics, where the bottles are, how he likes things organized, but none of it sticks. My pulse won’t settle. Every time he moves, I feel it. I throw myself into work to distract my brain. Pour drinks. Take cash. Pretend I’m not vibrating with every breath.
A guy with pale eyes down the bar reaches for his drink and lets his fingers brush mine. The touch burns, bright and fast, like static that sinks under my skin. I jerk back with a hiss, but he just smiles, slow and deliberate, like he’s been waiting for me to notice him.
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he says, voice low and smooth as smoke.
Before I can answer, he leans closer, and that’s when I see them. His tongue drags lazily along his teeth, no, not teeth. Fangs. Long, pointed fangs that catch the light.
What the actual hell?
My breath stutters. Something in his eyes catches mine, silver and endless, swirling like storm clouds, and suddenly my thoughts don’t feel like my own. The noise of the bar fades. The world narrows to him and that voice.
“You want to come sit next to me,” he murmurs, each word wrapping around me like silk. “Let me feed from you.”
The words slip under my skin, heady and hypnotic. My muscles go slack. I actually start to move. Then there’s heat at my back. A wall of it. Nolan. His hand catches my arm, grounding meso hard the haze snaps. My pulse lurches, and the man’s smirk falters right before Nolan’s voice rips through the air.
“She’s fucking off-limits, asshole,” he snarls, low and lethal. “And you know glamor’s banned in here. Taking advantage of someone new? Get the fuck out before I break your jaw.”
The words vibrate through the floor. The vampire, because what else could he be? Recoils, hands lifting in a mock surrender, but there’s fear in his eyes now. The rest of the bar glances up, bored curiosity passing over the crowd, and then they go right back to their drinks and conversations like this isn’t anything new. Like near-death encounters are just part of the vibe here.
The vamp stands, movements sharp now, his charm long gone. He mutters something under his breath and stalks for the door. The second he’s gone, the pull I felt, whatever strange, magnetic thing that crawled under my skin, evaporates.
