Page 52 of The Forbidden Alpha

I lift it above my head and—

I’m being lifted into the cool air.

Pomegranate and chocolate.

All the tension melts from my body. My head lolls to the side and stops against his hard chest. A thumb brushes against my cheek, slow, rough, and deliberate, catching the salt of the tears I didn’t know I’d shed. He wipes the traces of the nightmares away with tenderness.

I don’t open my eyes.

I let the darkness take me again, and this time, there are no dreams.

Chapter 28

Gabe

Every step away from the arena was excruciating. Every moment felt like a hot blade slicing down my spine, a reminder of the price of my actions. I was no pussy, but the million eyes that followed me and my mate could have kissed my ass. They’d all seen my punishment, witnessed it, but all I could hope was that it was enough—to pay for my failures, for the ability to stay with my mate, to stay with the only family I’d ever had.

My body was a live wire of open nerves, but I couldn’t fall. Not here. Not when she was already looking at me the way everyone else already looked at me.

My little mate was dwarfed beneath my frame. I did everything I could to keep the weight off of her to ensure I didn’t crush her, but she didn’t falter. She kept her chin high, her expression a cool mask that didn’t crack until the elevator doors hissed shut.

I leaned my shoulder against the wall, careful not to let the raw meat of my back touch, as she moved out from underneath me and stood before me.

She didn’t say anything. She just stood there, her fingers curling around my bicep, and waited. Her silver-spun hair was a mess of tangled silk, a chaotic halo against the elevator paneling. The bruising circles beneath her eyes told of the stress I’d caused in the few hours we’d known each other. Her lips were pressed thin, trembling just enough to show the cracks in the mask she wore for the crowd. Unlike her reputation, she looked fragile enough to break, but her icy gaze was harder than any Alpha I’d ever faced.

I looked down at her touch, then her face.

The ice had melted, replaced by relief and ownership. I reveled in her attention. My breaths hitching as each inhaled pulled at shredded skin. The pressure built inside me and pushed against her; her power pushed back, a storm crackling deliciously around us.

My mouth went dry. I wanted to taste her, to feel her lips against mine. But shame weighed me down. The things I’d done with Lilith had been aired before the twelve kingdoms. That shame, piled on top of the guilt for what I’d done this morning, shackled my arms, keeping me from reaching for the one who was supposed to love me and never abandon me.

The elevator doors opened, she moved beside me, and dipped beneath my arm.

“You offered yourself for punishment,” she said finally. She didn’t look at me as we moved out of the elevator and made our way down the hall of a ranked floor.

“I did.”

“I was a breath away from letting my wolf take over. You would have been the reason Ethan’s Gamma committed treason. All for looking at you like you were trash.”

My chest warmed knowing she wanted to go against him for me. I chuckled, my eyes closing briefly. “Like what?”

“As if you were responsible,” she whispered. “You were, but we didn’t like it.”

A low, breathless sound caught in my throat. Felix stirred, bowing his head in recognition of the dark beauty of her loyalty. She was willing to push back against her King for me. The raw, desperate hope of keeping her settled heavy in my chest. My dreams of a love so strong we’d create a family and love each other were within my grasp. I was completely, utterly fucked.

“Terrifying wolf.”

Unlike the Alpha’s floor, this one was a tomb of glass and stone. It felt like her—deadly, precise, and cold. There were no photos on the walls, no clutter on the counters. Just a tactical jacket thrown over the sectional. It was a space designed for a woman who never stayed in the space too long. A foreign scent sliced through the room—charred oak and benzoin. My wolf, Felix, bared his teeth behind my ribs, a low snarl vibrating in my chest. Someone had been here. Recently. The urge to claw that scent from the walls—to drown it in my own—overrode the agony in my back. There was a blade on the table we passed, but the view outside was so dark I couldn’t see anything. The air here was thin and chilled.

We passed the living room, a space of cold marble and empty walls, and continued down the hall. At the very back was her bedroom. It was a mesh of muted grays and sharp cleanliness. The bed was made with military precision. She led me toward a heavy, wingback chair near the window. I lowered myself with a trembling control, leaning forward slightly to keep the raw, weeping heat of my back from touching the fabric. Adrenaline was finally curdling into a dull throb that pulsed.

My jaw locked so tight it ached. My mate moved behind me and the weight of her gaze on the wounds felt good—a different kind of sting I welcomed—proof she cared. When she eventually stepped around me, sitting across from me on the edge of the chair, her eyes flashed.

“A good mate would take you to the bath and help you wash down, but I’m not a good mate,” she said, her voice holding the anger reflected in her gaze.

“No need. I’m more than happy to do what you need first.”

“I didn’t ask.”