Page 55 of The Rabbit's Foot
If only Mal could be so lucky.
In a few hours, he would have to fight a war while ensuring that Alp wasn’t hurt. In his mind, it didn’t matter to Mal if he died, as long as Alp lived a long, happy life. Sure, he’d prefer it was with him, but if not, then he had options open. Whether it was with Damon’s pack or back at home with his family, that wasn’t the point. What was the point was that his fluffy bunny would be surrounded by love where he could heal.
He leaned in and sniffed Alp’s hair, then brushed a cheek over his head, marking him with Mal’s scent. He really shouldn’t be doing it. If something happened to him, Alp would need to find someone else, and having Mal’s scent on him would keep shifters away.
But… he couldn’t help it. They’d bonded and shared a soul now. Mal would do whatever he could to make it back to Alp, to help him become whole again, to love him until the Maker called them home. That was the wish that Mal kept buried in his heart. To never be parted from Alp, to love him for the rest of their days.
He nuzzled Alp again, the intoxicating scent of sweet grass and dandelions and dew permeating every cell of Mal’s body. How had he fallen so hard, so fast? What made Alp different from anyone else Mal had ever been with? It wasn’t that he was passive, because Alp was anything but. He stood up to Damon, for fuck’s sake, and Mal had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t have thrown down with the First.
There was an intricacy to Alp. So many parts that seemed incongruous, but somehow slotted together to create one amazing, but tiny, whole that Mal was wild about. He would gladly stand between Alp and the world for one of his smiles. The caress of his hand on Mal’s face. The look in his eyes as Mal slid into him. They all screamed to Mal that he was loved, and for a lone wolf, that was a heady thing.
But you’re not a lone wolf anymore.
And that was the truth as well. Mal thought he could never be happy being part of a pack. He relished not being responsible for anyone or anything but himself. Now? This man nestled in his arms had turned Mal’s world on its ear. He’d taken everything Mal had believed about himself and held it up to the light to show it was all a lie.
Mal wanted his pack. He wanted Alp. He fucking wanted to live so he could continue to make Alp happy, because going to be with the Maker and watching as Alp found new love wasn’t an option.
Leave him here. Go on without him. It’s the only way to keep him safe.
Maker, but Mal wanted to do that. He’d thought about pleading with Damon to have one of his people take Alp far away, keep him out of the coming fight, but he’d made a promise, and if he wanted to prove himself worthy of Alp’s love, he had to keep it, as much as everything in him screamed it was a bad idea.
The rap at the door pulled Mal out of his thoughts. He glanced over at the clock. It was already four. Time to get ready.
“Alp?”
The only answer was Alp snuggling in deeper, burying his face in Mal’s chest.
“Sweetheart?” He kissed Alp’s head. “We have to get ready.”
“Five more minutes” came the whimpered voice.
No way could Mal hold back the smile.
The knock sounded again, followed by a whispered, “Mal.” It was Cece.
Mal disentangled himself from Alp, then pulled the covers up to his chin. He smiled down at his mate when he snuggled in the warmth. Maker, he loved Alp so.
He went to the door and pulled it open. Cece stood there, dressed for a fight. She wore a dark T-shirt, a belt around her cargo pants that held two guns, a TAC vest that covered her from chin to belt. She had goggles strapped around her neck. One thing was certain: she was ready for war.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“It’s time to go.” She peered over his shoulder at Alp. “I really think you should leave him here. This won’t be any place for him.”
She wasn’t wrong, but…. “I’d give anything to keep him out of the fight, but he deserves to be there. He needs to see this through, to find out that the man who tortured him is dead and that I’m the one who killed him. I can’t keep this closure from him.”
She gave a grim nod. “I understand. It’s just… he’s so sweet and pure. Even after everything, he’s innocent in so many ways. We’re not. We’re wolves and warriors. We will kill with no compunction, then go out and have some beers and celebrate the slaughter. Alp might think he wants this, but—”
“But he does,” Alp said, sitting up. “I want—need—to see Hyde pay for this,” he exclaimed, holding up his arm. “To see the Maker punish him for what he’s done to her children. I know you’re all instruments of that retribution, and even though I hate it, I’m sure it’s what has to be.”
“I could make you stay,” Cece said, her eyes flinty gray.
“You could try,” Alp tossed back. “I won’t be left behind.” His gaze flicked too Mal. “Not for anything.”
She sighed “You’re a stubborn brat,” she told Alp. “Why is it everyone in my life does what I tell them, except you?”
Mal threw his hands up. “Welcome to my world. My mate won’t do a damn thing he’s told.” He strode to Alp, who’d sat up and was pulling on his clothes, bent, and kissed him on the neck, delighting in the squeak. “And I wouldn’t have him any other way.”
“Then let’s go,” she said. “We have to get ready.”
