Page 25 of Alpha’s Wife

“My mother’s recipe,” he says when I ask about it. “More or less. I’ve had to guess at half of it, but I think it’s about right.”

The statement hangs for a moment, and I realize he might have just given away a piece of himself he didn’t mean to. I know how that feels, so I cover it by telling him about the clinic, the new supplies, the little girl who came in with a scraped knee, and we finish the rest of the meal like two ordinary people who didn’t spend last night tangled up in one another, and neither of us mentions it even though the knowledge of what we did seems to fill the entire room.

“You’re a bit quiet,” he says when the conversation has trailed off.

“I’m always quiet when I’m plotting your downfall,” I reply, and it’s out before I can stop it. He laughs, and it’s real; it changes his whole face, and I have to look away because he looks even more handsome and about a decade younger when he laughs.

“There she is,” he says.

“I haven’t gone anywhere.” I retort.

“No, you’re right here,” he says, and the way he says it makes the air suddenly feel too thin. For a moment, neither of us moves, and I can hear my own heart racing. And I know he can hear it, too.

He could close the distance between us. I know he’s thinking about it. Hell, I’m thinking about it. In fact, my body is already thrumming with anticipation, waiting for my brain to catch up. But my brain knows we got away with something last night. I came out unscathed, and I don’t think the bond magic worked. I can’t risk that again.

I push the chair back, break the spell, and quickly start washing up. I’ve no idea if he takes the hint or is simply biding his time, but he gives me the space I put out there all evening, and when I disappear into my room later with a book, he doesn’t follow, even though I hear him pace the hallway.

I won’t beat myself up for wanting him, but I won’t give him his war. That much, the bond magic, is still within my control. And I hold on to it through the night when, deep down, I wish I were holding on to him.

Chapter 12 - Ronan

I’m up and out of the cabin at first light, because I can’t just lie there a minute longer surrounded by her scent but unable to touch her.

That’s the problem I knew I was creating when I brought her under my roof, and now it’s compounded because I know how amazing she feels to touch and taste. I can’t get the sound of her coming apart with my cock inside her out of my head. I built this place with my own two hands, and now I can barely stand to be in it. Unless I’m with her.

That tells me everything I don’t want to hear, and last night only made things worse.

I cooked for her. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. My mother’s stew, the one she made as a treat when there was enough meat, the one Ryder makes all the time, but I don’t because it makes me feel things I’d rather not. Like the old cold cabin we grew up in, with the wind blowing straight through the gaps, and there never quite being enough in the pot even on the good days. But I also remember our mother singing to us and laughing while she cooked, and I stood there making it with her ghost at my shoulder as I tried to bury the reason I wanted to share this particular meal with Selene.

It’s just food. That’s what I tell myself, and it’s not like I know how to make many recipes.

But I didn’t think of the bond once. Not while I was cooking, not while she was sitting across from me, accusing me of plotting and delivering her line with her usual quick, dry wit that makes me laugh—really laugh. For a moment, we were just two people sharing dinner, and I wasn’t thinking about the bond magic, whether it worked, or how I could use her.

And that’s why I’m so pissed off. At myself…the situation.

I heard her heart rate kick in, and I watched the exact moment she heard it, too, and her walls went up. I guess she remembered who I am, who she is, and what all this is about. She pushed her chair back and put a whole lot of distance between us. I think I could have pushed it, crowded her, kissed her; I think she would have melted in my arms again. I could scent her body’s betrayal, and I know she wanted me.

But I let her go. I gave her the space and the choice. And then I proceeded to pace outside her door half the night with my wolf almost breaking through.

I tell myself I just need longer for the magic to take, and everything else—getting her into my bed, getting her to want it—was just a strategy. And hell, if I happen to enjoy it and have the best sex of my life with a tight virgin witch, then that’s just a bonus.

It’s a good lie, and one I’d tell anyone if they asked, and I’d make it stick.

The truth is far messier. When I was inside her, I wasn’t thinking about the bond, my half-brothers, the war I want to wage, the island, or the thirty years of being an unwanted son. I was thinking about her. Only her. And how she was the most precious thing I’ve ever held in my arms.

That is some fucked up shit.

My wolf doesn’t even bother with the complexities of the lie. He just wants her, full stop. He wants me to go straight to her room and take her in all the ways I need to so she’s marked and bred. He wants her so wrapped in his scent that the entire settlement knows she’s my mate. He thinks it’s simple.

I shove him back down. This isn’t simple at all, and it’s the last thing I need.

A quick fuck was supposed to make this better, easier, but instead, it’s made things even harder.

The settlement is slowly coming to life as I round the bend, finishing my morning run with a trip to the docks because I always stop by to receive the boats that come in overnight. I never get tired of the view, the docks working hard, the bakery already alive with the early shift, wolves sleeping in safe houses—a growing town full of people no one else wanted, all working together to create something great. Proving everyone wrong.

I feel good this morning despite how pissed off I am at myself. Steady and strong. Stronger than I have any right to be, running on no sleep, and my wolf riding close to the surface. Yet he’s calmer than he’s been in years. I think about the bond magic and wonder if it has taken, perhaps without the fanfare I was expecting. Then all this would be worth it.

But I’m not sure, because I don’t know if it’s just her or the residual bond magic I witnessed harmonizing the pack. And if it’s only her, then I’m in more trouble than I originally thought, because I don’t need her to make my wolf steady and happy…I need her to make him more powerful. Powerful enough to destroy my three half-brothers.