AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Yanking open a hidden drawer in his desk, he took out the battered copy ofSpells to Locate the Lostthat he’d treasured for ten long years. That little girl had run from him, and he’d spent a decade searching for her. His demon side screamed that now he’d found her a third time.Three, the number of divine perfection which fit his angel. Alexei closed the drawer, his chest aching from the painful struggle of choosing logic over instinct.
Before meeting her, he hadn’t believed in fated mates, in knowing someone was the only one for him in a split-second that changed his life forever. Flying away from her, he’d pretended he could forget her…someday. Instead, he’d obsessed over her and told himself to be glad they wouldn’t meet again. Now, she slept upstairs. When had the world gone sideways and decided to torment him by letting him find the mate he could never deserve? By putting her in his path again in a way that would make it so easy to claim her?
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Fate couldn’t dictate his life or take away his choice.
No magic or tech could get past his elaborate security system so it was worth the bittersweet regret to know she was safe.
A piercing scream ripped through the stillness, coming from upstairs.Joelle. His heart hammered a pounding pulse louder than any alarm could’ve been except neither the tech nor the wards alerted. Charging up the stairs two at a time, he sprinted toward her room. Her door remained closed, and a quick glance into his across the hall revealed nothing out of place, no signs of an intruder. Whatever threat had invaded must’ve come directly into her room. A chill slid through him.
The Order. They’d broken into her brother’s top-security penthouse despite tech safeguards and having one of the most powerful witches in the world living there. If anyone could ghost past his system, it had to be them. They’d come for her, but they would have to go through him.
He let battle rage calm the panic and descended into the control that’d governed his powers for so long. A sizzle of magic went through him, and he latched onto it. Only his mate mattered. The rest could burn.
Opening the door, he stalked inside, trusting in the superior night vision he shared with so many of the predatory shifters. A quick sweeping glance revealed no one and nothing moving inside. The door to the ensuite bathroom stood open, the scent of peaches and vanilla from his family’s most popular bodywash out of their organics company drifting his way. The bedroom’s curtains had been pulled shut, and the wards on the windows didn’t appear touched.
Joelle looked so small curled in the middle of the queen-sized bed, the sheets tangled around her. She jerked, and he stiffened, ready to explain why he had invaded her space. Seeing her safe had been enough to slow his racing heart, but he needed to find out where that damn scream had come from.
Kicking and twisting, she thrashed, and the knotted bedding cinched tighter around her. She screamed—the same horrible, ragged shriek he’d heard earlier—and something cracked in his chest, the pressure building and breaking until he worried his magic would unleash. The prickling beneath his skin demanded that he do whatever it took to take care of his mate. He’d come to fight whoever had hurt her, but he couldn’t fighther. Without anything tripping the sensors or wards, her nightmares came from within instead of a curse or hex.
“It’s okay.” He rushed forward and stopped. Which would scare her worse? To stay trapped in the dream or to wake finding him leaning over her? She whimpered, and he quit the second-guessing and went to her. “Come on.” He kept his voice soft. “Snap out of it.” Gods, she smelled good, but her hair stuck to her forehead in damp sweat curls as though she had a fever. Had she caught something? He shouldn’t have left her in the warehouse for so long.
She swung a fist and almost clocked him which would’ve been easier than the only other way he could think of to pull her out of a dream without scaring her even more.
He toed off his shoes and slipped into bed beside her, staying on top of the mussed sheets and half-tossed blanket. “Don’t hate me for this in the morning—”
Joelle wrapped herself around him, clinging as if he might deflect the dreams like a sleeping spell. Her curves pressed into him, and he froze. How had he gotten himself into this? With a mate he couldn’t have, an innocent who had no idea how much he wanted her or how much he needed to hurt those who’d caused her terror?
Pushing aside his frustration and shredded doubts, he hauled her closer, enjoying the feel of her for the few moments he might steal. His magic morphed from a frantic clawing beast threatening to annihilate everything to nothing more than a low hum. Ironic when his body felt as though it might erupt in flame.
She jerked awake with a start, her muscles tensing, and he almost regretted his impulsive lack of restraint when she cuddled closer, edging against his erection. There’d be no hiding how much he needed her.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “Make the bad dreams go away.”
“You don’t want that.”
“Don’t tell me what I want.” Her voice sounded sleepy, surly.
He shouldn’t. “I won’t take advantage of—”
She pressed her lips to his, a clumsy sweeping of her mouth over his, a bump of her nose against his, and a sudden intake of breath from her that played havoc on his control. Her skin glowed a faint pulse that blinked out before he could register the kiss had ended. The woman was just so damn sweet, calling to every instinct he had to claim the one the fates had declared his. Until she frowned at him as though he’d disappointed her in the worst way.
“That’s it?” she asked, her soft voice rough. “I expected more.”
His bruised ego surged to assert itself. After that sad excuse for a kiss, she accusedhimof somehow failing to meet whatever expectations she’d had. He would give her one that wouldn’t leave her wondering whether they’d begun, let alone whether they’d finished.
Cupping the back of her neck, threading his fingers through the silkiness of her hair until it came loose from the braid, he pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss that devoured and owned. She tasted of mint and sugar, and he licked at her lips until she trembled and opened for him. Forgetting his earlier vows to keep her at a distance, he swallowed the sweet sounds she made from the gasps to the little moan that hummed through him. He kissed her in a claiming that left no room for uncertainty.
This might be their only kiss, and while he didn’t want her to suffer as he would, he needed her to know that a part of him would always be hers. Not in some damn romantic gesture that might be worthy of an angel like her, but a filthy, wicked kiss that marked her as wholly as he could without stripping her down and fucking her.
He poured every moment that he’d wanted her into this, each day, hell, each hour since he’d first seen her. There’d been no doubt she’d been the one he would always want and should never have.
When she bit at his mouth, he seized this chance to touch, play, and possess, running his hands over her body until he skimmed a touch over her ass and to the edge of the shirt she wore—hisshirt—with nothing but bare skin beneath. His magic burned, wanting to mark her and keep her close forever.
Mate.
