Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
I smile and turn my head to look out the window. The sky is a dark gray, heavy with clouds holding more snow, but the storm has paused for the time being.
I stand up and set her on the floor, removing the blanket from her body and leading her to the entry of the suite where our coats and shoes are. “I want to show you something,” I say, shoving my feet into my boots.
“What?”
“Just get your shoes and coat on and come with me.”
She slips her feet into her boots and tugs on the dark green coat she wore yesterday. I snatch the zipper before she can grab it, pinching it together and zipping it up to her neck, then I pull her in close by the collar and kiss the tip of her nose.
“Let’s go,” I say, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.
Our walk through the warm house and over the chilly grounds is quiet, neither of us talking, her hand held in mine a warm, physical reminder of our connection. The garden comes into view as the snow crunches under our feet, and I veer us towards the arched entrance, weaving around the beds until we get to the back corner, to my mom’s section of the garden.
Sparkling snow covers the peony bushes and the birdbath, but it’s still beautiful, still hers. Mine. Ours.
“This is pretty,” Taryn says, walking to the birdbath and swiping snow from its sunflower center.
“This was my mom’s garden,” I say.
She looks around at it, scanning the flower beds and the birdbath. “Was? But it’s still here and well kept.”
I nod and move to her side. “I come out here and tend to it when I can. In the summer, these two bushes will bloom with peonies, and over there,”—I point down the bed to one that runs perpendicular to the peonies—“over there we grow strawberries.”
“You garden too?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“Only in here, and only when I… need to feel like I’m with my mom.” She takes my hand again and squeezes it. “I talk to her sometimes when I’m here. Pretend she can hear me. I know it probably makes me sound crazy, but it helps.”
She nods. “I get it.”
“I told her about you,” I whisper.
Her face softens and her lips part. “You did?”
“I told her about you before I told anyone else. I told her how strong you are, and how I fucked everything up, and how I was going to fix it all and bring you here to meet her when I did.”
“Reid…” Her eyes water and she steps into me, her head resting against my chest as I wrap my arms around her and rock us side to side. “Thank you,” she says, her voice hoarse. “Thank you for bringing me here and sharing this with me.”
I hold her, swaying us, my lips pressing into the top of her head. Her sweet floral and fruity scent fills my nose, the promise of how the garden will smell in the summer when the flowers bloom and the fruit ripens. The beating of our hearts and the rhythm of our breaths keep time as a chill breeze flirts with us, reminding us that the storm has yet to pass.
And not just the winter storm hovering over the mountains, holding its breath until it decides to bombard us with more snow, ice, and wind, but also the threat of Dominic and the havoc he will wreak on us when or if we find him, and the threat of whatever it is Taryn needs to tell me. The thing she says could change everything.
It won’t, though. I hope she knows that. I need her to know that. There is nothing she can say that will keep me from claiming her, from marking her to make her mine forever. As much as I tried to deny it when I first found her, the truth was simple—I knew what our ending would be from the moment I realized she was my mate.
Mine.
I glance around at my garden—our garden—looking between the two beds framing the birdbath, the two beds filled with peony bushes. “I was thinking,” I say, nodding towards the second peony bed, “maybe we could add something in here for your parents, too? Some flowers, or maybe some type of fruit tree…? Whatever you want, and we can nurture it together.”
“I would love that,” she says, pulling her head back to look at me. “It could be a space for our family. Together.”
“Together,” I agree, nodding. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.”
My mouth slants over hers, and her hands fist into my shirt, pulling me closer as we kiss. We mold against each other, a perfect fit, our lips moving in unison as well as our hearts. Every brush of her lips against mine, every time she opens herself up to me and pulls me closer instead of pushing me away, encourages me, tells me I’m on the right path. That our future together is a possibility.
“Did you have anything special planned for us today?” Taryn asks as we break apart, both of us gasping for air.
“I had some ideas, but they can wait for another day if you’re not feeling up to anything crazy.”
“Would you mind if we stayed in today?”
“Netflix and chill?” I ask, winking. She rolls her eyes but cracks a smile. “Kidding, kidding,” I say, kissing her forehead. “But yes, we can do a ‘staycation’ kind of day if that’s what you want.”
She nods and swallows. “I was actually hoping we could talk?”
She holds my gaze, her dark eyes glistening, a mixture of fear and hope. My throat tightens, my heart clenches, and my stomach drops. “Okay,” I say, blowing out a breath. “But I need some more clothes,” I add, hoping if she hears I’m making plans to stay with her after we talk, it will ease her anxiety. “Will you come with me to my apartment so I can grab some?”
“Sure,” she murmurs, taking my hand again.
I grasp her hand with all my might as we walk back to the packhouse, my teeth clenched and my stomach churning. I’m hesitant to take her into my apartment, not knowing how my dad will be when we arrive, but the thought of separating from her for even a second sounds worse than pouring lemon juice on a paper cut. Plus, she needs to know. She needs to know everything about me if I expect her to trust me, too.
When we reach the door of my apartment on the third floor, I stop with my hand on the doorknob, bracing myself, my eyes closing. Taryn rubs my forearm with her free hand, pushing love and confidence to me through the bond, her actions and presence saying more than words could at this moment.
The door swings open, and the stench of alcohol hits us, watering my eyes and burning my nose hairs. I freeze in the entry, my eyes locked on the bottles and cans littering the living area of the apartment, my dad sprawled across the couch like he was the night of my date with Taryn.
She walks straight into me, then pokes her head around my torso. Her eyes widen as she takes in the room, observing the empty bottles and my passed-out dad. Liquid rims her eyes as she turns to look at me, at my stiff and rigid body. Indecision wars within me as I push back my automatic reaction, the response ingrained within me from years of being the parent to my parent.
My teeth grind together and I tear myself away, barreling down the hall towards my room and shoving the door open. I don’t have time for this. For too many years, I’ve put him before me, put his image before my needs. But I have a mate now, and finding her opened my eyes to how much damage he did to my mental and emotional health, as unintentional as it was.
I yank a backpack off the hook on my door and stomp to my closet, standing in front of it, looking inside without seeing anything. The clothing in front of me ripples and warps as water fills my eyes, and my shoulders heave as I try to breathe.
Breathe. Just breathe. In and out. Inhale and exhale.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?