Page 26 of The Forbidden Alpha

They broke skin without apology.

A scream tore from my lungs, lost to the wind, as his movements turned frantic. His shoulders blocked out the sun as he came apart inside me, a growl tearing from his chest that shook my very bones. He licked the puncture wounds, the rough texture of his tongue sealing a mark over the old.

“Mine,” he snarled.

Chapter 15

A sting of teeth dragged me awake. I opened my eyes, disoriented, my body unable to tell the difference between the one who’d claimed me tenderly and the one who’d devoured me. My heart was a flurry of emotions I couldn’t rationalize.

I sat up, my breath hitching as I reached for my throat. My skin was cool and unmarked, but the memory of his rough tongue was too real to be a dream. The room was dark, save for the first kiss of dawn against the window frame.

I needed to move. I needed the sun to convince myself I wasn’t still pinned to the earth by a shadow. I stripped as I walked, leaving the nightmare in a heap on the floor.

Once under the scalding waterfall, I squeezed my eyes shut and did what I hadn’t let myself do in months. I reached for her.

Are you there? I pressed further into the dark corners of my mind, desperate for even a flicker of a growl or the brush of fur. Nothing. Only the hollow void I’d lived with my entire life. I scrubbed my skin until it turned a raw, angry pink, trying to wash away the heat of a man who didn’t exist.

I tried again, more deliberately. I dropped every wall I’d built and opened the space inside me where she was supposed to live. I pictured the pack doctor’s description from when I was young: a den, warm and dark, where your wolf curls, an ember waiting to catch.

Mine was cold. Not empty—occupied, the way a room feels after someone has left. Something pushed from the other side, not with warmth, but resistance—a door bolted from within.

Please. The world felt pathetic. Just once. Just so I know.

The silence that answered wasn’t peaceful. I turned the water hotter and stopped asking. I stayed until the steam blurred the world, thick enough to hide in, and let the tears flow. When I was done, I stepped out, dripping and hollow. I pulled on a second skin of black fabric and shorts before stepping into the hall.

The elevator ride down was a descent into a lion’s den.

There was a chime and then the elevator doors opened to the main area. The peace I craved vanished. Instead, I was met with early risers from multiple packs. There were groups for each kingdom. Danger hummed through the air, but there was also curiosity and hope. I doubt I’d ever get used to this place.

I kept my head down, my gaze darting away from the Alphas already sizing up the room. To avoid their stares, I focused on the far wall, my eyes catching the long row of frames mounted on the wall. A gallery of images—no singular person stood above the rest. They were all powerful, but my gaze ignored them, drawn by a magnetic pull to the man in the center of the group.

The breath left my lungs in a rush. A man. He stood with a lethal edge. He didn’t have to demand the room; eyes gravitated to him. His hair was short, his jawline more defined by the sun than the shadow, but those eyes… they were green, the familiar shade of my sanctuary—deep, dark, swallowing. The light hit his shoulders highlighting the way his shirt stretched taut over muscles. I didn’t know his name or rank, but seeing him made the air too thin to breathe.

I didn’t want to look. I’d come here for a moment of peace, not to stare at the faces of men who collected territories and waged wars. But my eyes kept returning to the center image. There was something in his stance—the way he stood like he’d already won—that pricked at my memory.

“Admiring the view?”

I flinched, spinning around to see Lilith stepping out of the elevators. She was adjusting the collar of her shirt, her movements slow and languid. As she passed, a wave of scent hit me—thick and unmistakably Gabe.

I didn’t need a wolf to know she had spent the night in his bed. The smell of him was painted on her skin. She gave me a slow, feline smile—a silent claim—before she disappeared into the crowd heading toward breakfast.

I’d played this part too many times. Women saw a threat; they never saw the sisterly bond that kept me at Gabe’s side. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, ducked into the elevators, and headed back upstairs. The rising numbers on display couldn’t keep pace with my heart. By the time I reached the seventh floor, my irritation had billowed into anger.

I beat on his door with a closed fist until it swung open. He groaned, holding his head, and I strutted past him and the sharp tang of her perfume. I crossed my arms as he slouched into his velvet chair. His phone dinged. He looked tired. Not from lack of sleep, but from an exhaustion he was struggling to outrun.

“Say what you came here to say.” He picked up his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. He threw it on the bed before blue eyes found me.

I had no desire to find my own mate, but a cold knot of dread tightened for Gabe. If his true mate scented him while he reeked of a random woman’s perfume, the aftermath would be nothing short of chaos. A shiver ran down my spine.

If I were in his position, what would I want?

“You reek of slut. I need you to shower so we can go down and grab a bite.”

His eyes darted to mine. Surprise melted into softness. Then a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He jumped to his feet and shot after me.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Gabriel Leonidas Moon!” I dodged, a shriek tearing from my throat. He was faster and trapped me with a bear hug.

“I love you, bestie.” I sighed as he squeezed me.