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“You could have told me once we cleared the air before, Everett, when we both admitted we want this,” I say, pulling one of my hands free from his to rest in the center of his chest, as though with that touch I can feel the bond tethering our two souls together. His heart beats steadily beneath my palm, unwavering and unbreakable, as stubborn as the man connected to it.
“That isn’t all,” he admits, his chest expanding beneath my hand as he draws in a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever is about to come. “There’s more you need to know about the Whitlock pack and how I really became Alpha.”
My heart pounds in anticipation; this final piece of the puzzle of three of my mates’ stories finally about to fall into place.
“You know our pack started out small. Our ways were barbaric, and my father ruled with an iron fist,” he explains, some of the ice melting from his eyes as they darken with grief. “He held true to the pack hierarchy, and there was a fight to the death to move up the ranks. Which was how my mother died when I was an infant.”
My brows furrow as I search his face, not wanting to believe this was happening within our town’s borders, but his expression holds no sign of levity, only resigned acceptance for that chapter of his life. I grip his hands in an attempt to comfort him, and he squeezes them back, a small smile of gratitude curving his lips for a moment before it vanishes.
“I’m sure you know I met Zeke at school, and then Arsenio shortly thereafter when he came to live at the same group home. My father accepted Zeke and Arsenio into the pack—he wanted the notoriety and power that came with having three alphas among his ranks. But the moment they both turned twenty, everything changed.”
My breath catches in my throat as though I’m reliving these nightmares with him. Even though I know everything worked out, the thought of my mates in danger causes pain to slice through my chest.
“He demanded the three of us fight to the death, fight for our chance to be his heir,” he says, his eyes sparking with cool rage. “When we refused, he threatened to kill a beta every hour until we complied.”
The blood drains from my face, my veins turning to ice at the gravity of that threat, at what my mates almost had to do.
“So I turned on him. I challenged him to a battle for Alpha, and when he lost, I ripped his throat out in front of the entire pack,” he says, anger and acceptance coating his words. “I chose my friends—my true family over my tormentor that day, and I’d do the same if I had the chance to relive it.”
His tone is vehement, while the strength in his conviction makes me wish I’d been there for him, that I could’ve helped him through the pain and grief while reassuring him that he did the right thing.
“The pack was done with his tyrannical rule, and after I took over, I learned of a few plans that were in the works to overthrow both him and me. But they rallied behind me, allowing us to build the pack we have today.”
“Is that what you’ve been holding back?” I ask, doing my best to keep the confusion off my face.
“I wanted you to know the truth, but I know it isn’t an easy one to swallow.” His chest shudders. “You had to bury your parents, and I killed my father. I didn’t know if that was something you would be able to accept, and I feared the look on your face when I told you.”
“Do I have that look now?”
“No,” he says, his head tilting as he studies me.
“I grieve my parents for who they were, the moments I had with them that will stick with me throughout my life,” I say. “They showed me kindness and compassion, and they taught me the importance of pack, family, and decisive leadership. My father wasn’t perfect—far from it—especially after we lost my mom. I gave him his space, and I put up with him keeping me at arm’s length, but I can promise if he ever did what your father did, if he ever put me in that position or treated our pack members like they were chess pieces, like their lives were disposable, I would’ve done the exact same thing.”
“But I—”
“You can both grieve the person you saw in brief glimpses, the person you wish they could’ve been, while understanding you did what was right for your entire pack,” I say and hold his gaze, pleading with him to hear the sincerity in my words. “Of course, the pack followed you, and they continue to show you that same loyalty because you’re a true leader. Being Alpha isn’t about what’s easy. It’s about doing what is right. It’s about doing what is best for your pack.”
“They say a picture speaks a thousand words, but I never believed it,” he says, squeezing my hand. “But yours did. It showed me that you would understand, and I hate that I doubted that for a second.”
“Just don’t doubt me again.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Deal,” he says, the words coming out in an almost growl as his lips descend upon mine. His arms wrap around my waist, clutching me to him and pressing my chest against his. I moan at the sensation of his hard chest pressed against mine, so strong and supportive. Everett has always had Zeke and Arsenio by his side, alphas to help him through strengthening and rebuilding his pack, but it isn’t the same; it doesn’t hold the same responsibilities and pressures.
My chest warms at the thought that he knew before we even met that I would be able to share this with him, to understand him more than anyone could, regardless of a mate bond. My mate and fellow Alpha, both of us here, ready and willing to help the other shoulder the burden.
Everett’s tongue sweeps in, caressing mine in long, languid strokes, each one engulfing my body in flames. I meet him with every touch, not letting him take control, knowing that it will always be a constant fight for dominance for us, especially in the bedroom—but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s way too fun to push the gruff wolf’s buttons, and I can tell he secretly loves it.
Everett growls in frustration, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt and exploring the soft planes of my stomach. Electricity races along my skin and lust courses through my veins as he backs me against the desk.
Damn, offices really are my weakness.
Reaching behind me, I shove the computer to the side and hop onto the hard surface. The instant he steps forward, I wrap my legs around him, already wishing there were fewer clothes between us as I roll my hips against him. An impatient growl rumbles from his chest as he stares down at me, his hungry gaze devouring every inch of me as though he can see straight through the stifling clothes encasing my skin.
I reach up and grasp the collar of his white button-up shirt in one hand, tugging him down roughly as my mouth slams on his, taking and demanding he gives me everything he’s been teasing these last few weeks with that one kiss.
He grasps the waistband of my pants, and he’s just about to unbutton them when the creak of the door opening causes us both to freeze. Grasping the hilt of my knife from the desk, I break my lips from his and look over my shoulder at the intruder.
“Oops,” Zeke says, his cheeks red as he looks everywhere but at me, his expression chagrined, yet I don’t miss the lust simmering in his grey eyes as he looks us over.
