Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
Long, lithe arms come around my torso, her palms sliding up to rest on my chest, her cheek pressing into my back, and I crumble, my hands gripping the edge of my dresser in the closet, my chin falling to my chest as a tear falls from my eyes.
She holds me, hugging me, her presence the emotional anchor I’ve been missing all these years. No pity, no judgment—just pure and undiluted acceptance, understanding, and love flows to me through her, warm and soothing, like a campfire on a chilly night in the forest or warm fuzzy socks after playing in the snow all day.
“Is he always like this?” she asks.
“No,” I choke out, shaking my head. “But when he isn’t, he has no memory of being like this.”
“Does anyone know?”
“No,” I say again. “I’ve never… I’ve never told anyone. They know he struggles, and Alpha Harrison and Luna Emily have on more than one occasion fed and clothed me on nights when my dad was too drunk to parent me, but even as a kid I played it off as wanting to spend more time with my best friend.”
“Why haven’t you ever told anyone?”
“He would have lost his position. And he loved being the beta. And he was good at it and a good father when he wasn’t—“
“Drunk off his ass and passed out on the couch?” I sigh, and she kisses my spine. “Sorry. I know that is harsh but—“
“No, you’re right.”
“You should tell Wes. He’s your best friend. There’s no way he doesn’t know that there is something you’ve been struggling with all these years. And your dad needs help. You shouldn’t have to bear this alone.”
I let go of the dresser, turning in her arms so we face each other, drawing her into my chest. I clench my teeth and bite my tongue, not responding to her, but I know she can sense my hesitance and my reluctance. She doesn’t say more about it, although I know this won’t be the last I hear of it.
“It was never that you didn’t want a mate, was it?” she asks, squeezing me tighter, then sliding her hand up to my cheek.
“I didn’t want to end up like him,” I say, covering her hand with mine. “I’m still terrified of ending up like him if I lose you. But the thought of never having you is worse. There was… there was no way I could have rejected you. There is no way I am ever letting you go.”
I lean forward and press my forehead to hers, closing my eyes and breathing in her scent. She strokes my face and neck, her fingers trailing over my marking spot, and my breath catches. In all our moments together, she has yet to touch mine, even though I’ve tormented and teased hers. It’s so intimate, more so than anything we’ve done together, and filled with an unspoken promise—the promise that she’s in this for the long run, too.
“I’ll get your clothes for you,” she whispers, giving me a soft kiss. “You take care of your dad—do whatever it is you need to do out there—and then we can go back to my guest suite for the rest of the day. We’ll come back and check on him this evening.”
“Okay,” I say, kissing her again.
She steps back and I walk by her, steeling myself for what I need to do, already forming a mental checklist to follow. But her hand grabs mine, squeezing it, making me turn to her before I leave.
Her eyes scan my face, and her throat bobs, her pulse skipping. Her thumb rubs into my skin like mine always does to her. “I love you,” she says, her gaze holding mine with a burning intensity.
A fresh flood of tears fills my eyes, but I blink them back, tugging her into me by her hand. Our mouths find each other without hesitation or pause, moving with a fierce passion unlike anything I’ve experienced with her. It stokes a fire in me, waking up my wolf, drawing both of us closer. That beautiful, energetic creature flirts with my wolf at the edge of my mind, dancing and pouncing around him, teasing us with our incomplete but strengthening connection.
I back away with a gasp, our noses brushing, our mouths hovering over each other, lips lingering and parted. “I love you too, Cadet,” I say, grasping her chin, my thumb running across her parted lips.
She nips at my thumb, then pushes me to the door. “Go. I’ll be waiting.”
I smile at her and hurry out of the room, my heart and feet lighter than they’ve been in weeks, feeling as giddy as a teenage girl with her first crush. I rush around the apartment, gathering the empty bottles and cans and sorting them out in the kitchen, dumping the few ounces of remaining alcohol down the drain and washing my hands.
I grab the cleaning spray and a rag from the cabinet under the sink and turn around, my heart jumping in my chest as a tall figure darkens the doorway, the bottle of cleaning spray dropping to the floor from my surprise.
“Fuck, Dad, you scared me,” I say, clutching my chest.
But his blue eyes are cold and lifeless, almost unseeing. His posture is tense, his spine rigid, his hands curled, and his claws stretching from his fingers. A threatening growl spills from his lips, making the hair on my neck stand on edge. His eyes narrow on me and he inhales, the air bulking him up so he fills more of the doorway.
“I should kill you for what you’ve done,” he says.
I blink. “Wha-what?”
“Breaking into our territory, attacking innocents, and killing my mate in front of me with no hint of mercy.”
My voice sticks in my throat and my heart pounds, but I hold eye contact with him, lifting my hands in slow motion to show him I mean no harm.
“Dad, it’s me. Reid. Your son,” I say, my voice calm, but everything in me is on edge.
“All you rogues are the same,” he continues as if he can’t hear me. “Heartless mongrels with no sense of right or wrong, no humanity left within you. But you miscalculated if you thought I would just let you go after you broke her neck and sliced her stomach open. I have you cornered now, and I have no intention of letting you go before gifting you with the same fate you cursed her with.”
REIDMy dad lunges forward from the doorway, his movements strong but erratic, the alcohol affecting his motor control. My gut instinct is to attack first, to fight back and defend myself, but it’s clear he is hallucinating, remembering the attack and mistaking me for the rogue who killed my mom, and I can’t bring myself to hurt my dad, self-defense or not.
I dart out of his reach, but the space is small, and his large hands and sharp claws catch my body, slamming me into the cabinets and knocking the air from my lungs. His claws sink into me and slice around and down, yanking me towards the floor. My chin hits the counter, my teeth snapping down on my tongue, and stars burst into existence behind my eyelids.
I groan and spit the blood from my mouth, my hand clutching at the wound wrapping around my abdomen. My vision blurs and my head spins. I can’t see it, but I can feel the deep gashes in my stomach, feel that they’re much deeper than my enhanced shifter healing can handle on its own without medical intervention.
My hand is sticky with blood, and the metallic tang in the air tells me how much I’ve lost. My feet slip on the floor, the blood pooling beneath me, making it impossible for me to find footing and stand on my feet without using the counter for support. Not that I could, anyway. I’m already too weak from the deep wounds gouged into my stomach and side.
“Reid!” Taryn yells, and I turn my head, lifting it from the floor where I didn’t realize I’d fallen.
Dread pools in my stomach at the sight of her, and I shake my head, but she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are on my dad.
She darts between where my dad towers over me and where I lay on the floor, undeterred by the blood or the long, sharp claws my dad wields. Resolve burns through her, and I try to sit up, reaching to shove her out of the way, but she jumps on my dad, swinging around him and wrapping him in a choke hold. He scratches at her arm, drawing blood from her, too, but her brow furrows more, her focus narrowing as she chokes him until he passes out, falling to the floor beneath her.
She stands above him, chest heaving, fire burning in her eyes. She’s every inch the fierce warrior woman I’ve fallen in love with over the last several weeks.
“Fuck,” I groan, rolling onto my back and squeezing my eyes closed, putting pressure on my wound. “That was hot,” I say as she kneels next to me. “If I wasn’t bleeding out right now, I’d totally jump your bones.”
“Are you okay?” she asks, her hands hovering over me as she scans my wounds. “That’s a dumb question. Of course you’re not okay. You’re hurt and bleeding. Although I guess you’re not too hurt since you’re joking about sex.”
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?