“Why then? You, you said you wouldn’t go off your meds for anyone. You said so at the masked ball, and you meant it. I could tell you meant it.”
He nods and swipes the pad of his thumb over the pulse point on my wrist. “I did mean it. I don’t want to hurt anyone and”—he pauses—“the thought of hurting you was especially unthinkable. The further I’ve gotten from the way I used to be, the more conscious I am of how much damage I’m capable of causing, and the more afraid I’ve become of hurting anyone like that again.”
I know all this. He’s explained it to me before. “So why did you take it then?”
He rises from the floor and sits by my side on the bed, facing me. He doesn’t let go of my hand, and I can’t seem to find a way to make myself make him.
“A lot of things happened in quick succession yesterday,” he says. “I was afraid when I couldn’t find you. Like, really horribly afraid. Instinctively scared in a way I haven’t been for years. I felt…wild. Like an animal. And then, when we couldn’t find you, Sid recommended we bring in an alpha from a nearby town to track you.” He swallows hard, like he’s swallowing something that tastes bitter. “It was a good idea in theory, but”—his eyelids drop and he shakes his head slightly—“it made me sick. The idea of another man, another alpha, scenting you, it made me… I couldn’t do it.
“I was so afraid of affecting you, terrified of going off my meds in case I’d hurt you, but then it hit me—I wouldn’t hurt you. I realized it was safe to take the antidote because I wouldn’t hurt you. No matter what, I willnothurt you. Driving back to the house with Sid, I came to understand that it doesn’t matter if we’re chemically compatible because whether we’re fated or not…you’re the person I want to spend my life with.”
He lifts my hand, squeezing my palm and dragging his lips lightly across my wrist. It’s a pointless gesture. I know that. He’s impaired. He can’t smell me. Still, the action gently touches my soul. His words land on my skin, and I can’t tell whether it’s beautiful that he’d like to spend his life with me, even though our chemistry doesn’t align, or if it’s deeply insulting.
While I wrestle with that, Alfie scents my wrist again loudly, like an addict seeking a high when he’s jonesing.
He looks up at me and his eyes dampen. “It was beautiful, Jensen.” He presses my hand to his lips, stamping my palm, my wrist, and each individual knuckle before pressing my hand to his cheek. “It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.”
I gasp softly as what he’s saying takes hold. My legs go lame and my arms break out in goose bumps. My heart starts to beat like it’s brand new. An organ that’s bigger than me. An organ that beats for someone or something other than me.
“It was everything I imagined it would be.” He kisses my hand again, and his expression turns dreamy as he strokes the side of my face. “And it was better because it was you.”
I lean into his touch, my head lolling to expose my throat. The subconscious gesture makes him pause momentarily as the hand on my cheek cups my jaw and traces a line down my jugular. When he speaks, his voice is as soft as I’ve ever heard it. “You smell like home to me too, my mate.”
My heart soars and tears spill down my cheeks. “Your mate? I’m your mate?”
“Yes, you’re my mate, and I’m yours. You’re the safe place where I belong. You smell like shelter and warmth to me. Four walls and a ceiling. Home. You smell like home to me.” His lips part. A hint of a shiny incisor glints at me as fondness and raw sexual magnetism spill out of him. “Like sex at home. Like sex when the door’s locked and no one can hear us. Sex in a safe place where nothing bad ever happens.”
I’m so happy and shocked that I can’t breathe, and sweet Jesus, my heart is beating out of my chest.
“But, but, thenwhydid you take your meds again?” I cry.
Alfie’s smile fades, and he strokes a lock of hair from my face. “Because I want you to have agency over your body and your life. I want you to decide when, or if, you go into heat. I don’t want it to be something that happens to you simply because you’re close to me. It’s important to me that you make that decision with a clear head because”—his voice deepens, gravel mixing with velvet—“when my knot swells inside you, and you ask me to bite you—”
“I won’t do that,” I tell him. “I won’t ask you to do that. I’m not like that. I have self-control.”
His nose crinkles, and he smiles woefully. “You will, my mouse. It’s not a matter of self-control. It’s a matter of biology. It’s a matter of my genetics and what I am. You will ask me to bite you. All omegas do. They beg until they’re hoarse, and so will you…”
I bristle, letting go of his hand and leaning back against the headboard. “You think an awful lot of yourself, Alfie. Have I ever told you that?”
“No.” He smiles. “But that’s not the point, and don’t worry, you’ll have a lot of time to tell me things like that later. The point is, whenyouask me to bite you, it will be different for me.Whenyouask, I won’t feel any dread or fear. I won’t hesitate at all because whenyouask, the part of me that was born wild will take over. Before the words leave your mouth fully, I’ll act. I’ll do it. I’ll bite you.” He cups my cheek in his hand, stroking his thumb gently over my bottom lip. “I’ll sink my teeth into your flesh, into your gland. I’ll do it without thinking, without pause or a second’s doubt. I’ll hold you in my arms and thrust into you. I’ll break your skin as I bite down and leave my mark on you.”
He nods thoughtfully, eyes glazing over. “The first time you ask, Jensen, I’ll mate you for life…and there’s nothing that could stop me.” He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I took my meds to give you time and the cool head you need to think about the future you want because I promise you, baby, the heat I bring on will be unlike anything you’ve ever felt. There won’t be a rational thought between the pair of us. Only instinct.”
“Jesus,” I mutter as my dick stiffens.
Alfie smiles at me, seemingly aware of the reaction I’m having to his words, and I swear, it’s a smile laced with such hot sex that my vision is tinged with red. I lean forward and rest my forehead against his. His skin is warm, his body big and solid as his arms wrap around me. My lips find his as if in a dream. A lazy haze where my body and actions belong to me, but also to something outside of me. Something that feels a lot like the hand of fate.
It’s a kiss that starts slowly, a sweet stamp of flesh against flesh, a gentle exploration of his lips and mine. One that gradually heats. Our lips part at the same time, and both of us moan as our tongues find each other and the rest of the world fades.
29
Jensen
It’sbeenoneofthose crazy weeks that usually only happen to other people. Alfie has hardly left my side. He’s been utterly adorable and extremely attentive. I mean, yes, he’s been a little overprotective, but I can’t say I mind.
He’s called the doctor out to check on me no less than three times in as many days. The first time was because I said I was a little warm. Iwaswarm. I was sweating under the pile of blankets he insisted on wrapping me in. Alfie flew into a panic, concerned that I had a life-threatening fever. The next time, I politely declined an offer of a cup of tea. He immediately bolted into the hall, bellowing for Mrs. Thompson to call the doctor back again. I overheard him telling her in hushed tones that he believed I was delirious as a result of my exposure to the elements.
Yesterday, I sneezed when I opened an old book in the library, and Alfie became convinced I had contracted pneumonia despite not having even a mild cough.
