Page 18 of Evan and the Alpha

There’s silence. Then Sobek hisses, “You’ll defy an alpha’s orders?”

His grip on me tightens again; his other arm winds around my shoulders, as though he could pull me into himself.

Someone sighs. Then two sets of footsteps retreat. There’s the swish of a curtain closing, more dull footsteps against packed earth.

Finally, Sobek relaxes his grip. I look up at him, finding his gaze. His claws prick the skin under my jaw, tilting my head back.

I know he can hurt me—I know he will hurt me. But, inexplicably, I also feel safe.

That’s probably weird, right? Feeling safe with someone who kidnapped you, who tried to choke you on the end of a rope, who left bruises around your neck. Feeling protected by the guy who just tried to sell you off to someone else, as a sex slave or something.

“Did you mean what you said, Evan?” Sobek’s eyes glitter in the candlelight from across the room; his voice gutters like one of the flames.

I nod; my throat’s closed up, fear and anticipation choking me now. It’s like that time, in the fourth grade, when I confessed I had a crush on one of the other boys.

He laughed and pushed me down into a puddle. Told me I was gross.

Sobek doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t push me away. Instead he tilts his head, and I’m struck by a sudden thought:how do kroakka kiss?

Turns out, they don’t. Sobek just slides his snout against either side of my face. He pushes our noses together—it’s a bit weird, between my stubby, ski-jump human nose and his broad, crocodilian snout.

But it feels right. Normal, somehow.

“Why?” Sobek asks when he pulls back. “I have no territory. No prospects. Why do you want to stay with an alpha like that?”

He cups my cheek, so I lean into it, tilting my head a bit. “I told you before, humans don’t care about that stuff.” Well, maybe some do. People probably get married for money and status all the time. “We just kind of … pick whoever we like.”

The corners of Sobek’s mouth cant up into that now-familiar crocodile smile. “And you like me?” There’s a hint of humor in his voice.

“Yeah. Don’t ask me to explain it, ’cause I don’t get it either. But I do.” I let my eyes flutter shut as Sobek traces out the curve of my cheek, runs his thumb over my lips.

I open my eyes again when his touch grazes over the bruising around my neck. It’s hardly visible under the gold necklaces I’m still wearing, but it’s tender to the touch.

Sobek watches me with an intensity I’ve never seen in his eyes before. He seems both wary and concerned, but there’s something else in those golden orbs.

He looks back at the bruises. I inhale sharply. “Yeah,” I rasp, “even that. I liked that too.”

Maybe not that he nearly choked me to death in a public place because he was mad at me. But I liked the feeling. I liked the violence, I liked the danger and the thrill of it.

I wanted him to do it again.

When he looks up again, I know what I see in his eyes: possessiveness. He wants me. Wants to make me his, keep me, and my blood jumps with the thought. I want to melt into his arms, tell him I’m his forever.

This is probably bad, some rational part of me says, but it’s a little voice compared to all the thundering and clanging the wilder, uninhibited parts of me are doing.

I lean forward, press our noses together again. It’s a gamble, but I’m willing to risk it. “Make me yours, alpha.”