Page 56 of The Forbidden Alpha

His words touched me, and being able to adventure into town was alluring. I didn’t argue.

“I’ll get dressed,” I murmured. His arms fell away as I stood.

***

The drive into town was the first peace I’d had since the festival.

“You built this?” I asked, watching the vibrant storefronts blur past.

“I did. When I took over, it was a wasteland. I wanted a place where the outside world couldn’t get in,” Ethan murmured, one hand on the wheel, the other clasped with mine. As we slowed into the parking lot, he pulled my hand to his lips. “I’d hoped if I ever found you, I could give you a safe place to call home.”

He turned off the car and we got out. Ethan held the door open for me, the chime of a bell lost in the sudden hum of conversation and the scent of baking dough. As I stepped into Turkish Coffee House, my gaze was pulled to the left—a stark white stone wall dotted with arched alcoves. Each one held a small treasure: weathered vases, abstract art, and a classic radio that looked like it belonged to another time.

It was a rustic place with the aroma of roasted coffee and sharp, fresh spices. A woman at the counter offered a warm greeting, but we didn’t stop. With his hand resting possessively on my lower back, Ethan guided me deeper into the cafe, past the bright space and into the shadows of the far back.

We took our places at a table already marked Reserved. A wooden wall, intricate with hand-carved designs, pressed against my spine as I sank against the plush velvet beneath me.

Then, the feast began.

Everything arrived at once. There were bowls of lentil soup, plates of Turkish Dumplings, and Meat Gozlema paired with a deep red dip. My eyes settled on the Sucuk Pide—flatbread dressed up as something finer than pizza. Between the Menemen and the fresh salads of deep purples and bright yellows, the table was a mosaic of color.

And, of course, the coffee. The dark, rich steam rose between us, the most important part of the morning.

“Everything looks delicious,” I murmured, but as my eyes darted across the table, I saw him strain against something unseen, his eyes closing as he shut out whatever it was. He took a deep breath, his chest rising, and opened his eyes on the exhale. Gold bled away to green.

“Can I see Gabe today?” I asked, the question slipping out easily as I reached for a slice of the Sucuk Pide—the cheese pull making my mouth water. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I took a bite and moaned. Ethan’s eyes were locked on my mouth before flickering to my eyes.

“No.” It was a soft answer, but there was no room for question. I chewed and swallowed, dipping the rest of the cheesy goodness into the lentil soup.

“I just want to make sure he’s—”

“I saw Olivia this morning for a report,” he interrupted. There was no anger in his eyes, just a calm finality. “She has requested that no one come by today. After the trial, they have things to work through. Let them have the day. You can try and see him tomorrow.”

I looked down at the spread, grabbed my fork, stabbed a Turkish dumpling, and felt that old, restless itch in my hands. There goes the one thing I thought I could do today. I bit into the meaty goodness and grabbed two more, inhaling it.

“Then what can I do?” I whispered, the words cracking.

Ethan reached across the table, his hand warm as it covered mine. “Resting.”

“I don’t know how to do nothing,” I countered. “I could prep, clean, move things.”

Ethan leaned in, his shadow easily stretching across the food until it swallowed my plate. “You won’t be doing any of these.” The edge in his voice left no room for question. “You will not serve. You will sit, and you will be served.” He moved back, stabbing another dumpling and lifting it to my mouth. My lips parted, and I bit the offering off his fork. It was a silent surrender to his care, and the heat in his eyes told me he knew it. Part of me chafed at his control, the absolute authority that came with being an Alpha. But beneath the frustration, a deeper, starved part of me just wanted to let go.

The intensity of his alpha instincts—this raw, protective need to provide for his mate—blurred the lines of my own frustration. I shouldn’t be fighting him; I should be enjoying this meal and getting to know my life partner.

“If you need me to help you relax, I will.” His voice was full of promise, his gaze darkening.

I chewed the food as I recalled the terrace. My thighs clenched as a ghost of pleasure licked at my core.

“I wouldn’t mind… the distraction,” I said, blushing.

He flashed me a brilliant white smile and I froze. My breath stalled as I took in Ethan’s first full smile. His eyes crinkled, his shoulders dropped. He looked like a different man. “Then let’s eat so I can have my dessert.”

Chapter 30

The doorbell chimed, a happy sound that made my chest feel lighter. I stepped over the threshold and excitement bubbled as the hum of overlapping conversations mixed with the smell of new books. Lovestruck was the last shop in the strip, a splash of vibrant energy where every bookshelf was painted a defiant, unapologetic pink. Books were crammed onto shelves that reached the ceiling and were elegantly set up on tables in the middle of the floor.

It was packed—friends whispering excitedly, students swarming the merchandise on the left and far right of the shop—making the space feel even smaller, more intimate. It was shoulder to shoulder. The air was thick and should have been overwhelming.