Page 60 of Knocked Up By My Fated Alpha
I buried my mouth between her thighs. Raven bit her lower lip, her head tilted back as she cried out in passion, one hand braced against the fogged glass, the other buried in my hair, legs shaking as I gripped her ass to hold her still, tongue worshipping her with an obscene reverence. Her taste was addictive, and I let myself get lost in it, in her, tongue slipping inside her, lips finding her clit. She begged without words, only broken sounds and quivers.
And when I eventually took her, Raven was a blubbering mess, nails ripping into my skin, sobs of need and desire against my chest, as I sheathed myself to the hilt within her in a single, long, deliberate thrust, hips rolling against hers, slow and deep.
“All those dreams I had of you,” my words were a whisper against her skin, a confession to myself as much as it was to her, “None of them compares to the reality of you.”
Raven’s inner muscles quivered, her lips parted on a shocked breath, wide emerald green eyes on mine. Cupping her cheek, I pressed my forehead against hers, and in that moment, I was undone, a realization settling over my shoulders.
I wanted more days like this. I wanted days to lie in bed with her and worship every inch of her skin. To argue with her about the most mundane things, if only to hear her voice. To have Raven continue to look at me as she was right now—soft, warm, and with the depth of emotion I felt reflected in her gaze.
I knew at that moment there was no coming back from this.
Raven wasasleep in her bed when the message came in. My lips burned from the lingering kiss I’d planted on her lips before leaving, fighting the fierce desire to stay at her side and take her again and again and again, as long as she would have me, and to hell with the world.
But the trackers had finally gotten a lock on the murderer’s scent. It was time to end this war business with the humans. I tracked the bleeding murderer through the storm drain, Sinclair alongside three others of my elite team flanking me. My trackers laid a trap for the beast, and it had fallen.
For hours we hunted, and as we rounded the corner leading farther into the depths of the system, the acrid stench of blood, waste, and madness, but a few steps away, a vicious, bloodcurdling growl rent through the air. I froze at the sound, a chill sweeping through my veins, my team falling still at my side.
“Hold,” I commanded through our pack link.
My warriors exchanged similar looks of confusion, and Sinclair began to speak. “But Alpha—”
I was already walking ahead towards that animalistic growl that was as familiar as it was unfamiliar. It took a few more steps before I saw the horror that was the murderer.
The murderer was small, crouched as it was on all fours, insanity barely banked in its wild gaze, its jaw nearly unhinged with canines as long and sharp as knives protruding from its mouth, the rest of its skinny body stuck in a partial shift that was more beast than human, fur and skin matted with blood and grime and Goddess knewwhat else.
My heart stuttered, my pace stumbling as the scent of the murderer finally hit me in all its potency, shock threatening to obliterate me as I took a step towards the wolf.
“Rielle.”
My former mate let out a shuddering cry that was more wolf than human, clapping her furred, clawed hands over her ear, her body spasming as she twisted her head side to side as though she couldn’t bear the sound of my voice. I took another step towards her.
“Rielle.”
Heartwrenching sobs joined her keening and thrashing, but her claws were beginning to retract.
I crouched right in front of her, unbothered by her threatening snarls and growls.
“Rielle.”
Her azure gaze met mine, but no recognition sparked in it, and she kept screaming. Ignoring the sounds of shock from my men behind me, I closed the distance between us.
“It’s alright,” I whispered, pulling the woman who’d betrayed me and upended my life into an embrace. She stiffened but didn’t struggle, and in a small shudder, I felt Rielle fall out of her partial shift, becoming smaller still in my arms. The sounds leaving her lips were heart-rending sobs.
“It’s alright,” I said once more, the bitter taste of the lie heavy on my tongue. “It’s alright.”
“She was the murderer?”
Alpha Matt’s voice was a study in heartbreak as he stared at Rielle. From the intense heartbreak his gaze held, no one could have looked between them and suspected that Rielle and Matthew didn’t share a drop of blood between them, adopted as he was.
Scrubbed, sedated, and cuffed to the hospital bed, Rielle slept on,oblivious to the world. She looked like she hadn’t aged a day in the past decade, her features deceptively harmless and innocent.
“The murders were a result of her feral state,” I explained.
No one had been able to uncover what exactly set off a wolf’s feral state. In some cases, it was a severe trauma, the death of one’s soul mate or parents. Experiences that some wolves went through unscathed broke others.
They went feral, entering that state of mind where their wolf’s baser instincts and inhumane urges prevailed. The feral state could only be broken by a strong will or the far more likely option, death.
A brief recount of all the murder cases had drawn up the sordid truth of the situation. All the victims had been in transit, unintentionally crossing the “boundary” of sorts her wolf had set up around her temporary residence and the areas she rustled through garbage to eat. Feral, territorial, and half insane, she’d murdered them.
