Page 64 of Alpha Chained

I cup her cheek and smile gently. “Of course we will,” I tell her, wishing I felt as confident as I sound. Her eyes are huge as she stares up at me, and it makes my heart hurt.

“For now, let’s get back to my place,” she says. “We’ll get cleaned up, get some rest. Things will look clearer after that.”

Part of me feels the strong urge to leave here at once, to find Willow and save her. But I know there’s not much I can do right now. So, I nod silently, allowing her to lead me out of the cell block and into a narrow street outside. We pass the parking area where the SUV still stands, ignoring curious stares as we make our way through a maze of passages and walkways.

I follow Raura silently, my eyes taking in the sights around me. This place is so different from the sterile, industrial environment of the Enclave – there’s life and color everywhere I look, even though it’s clear that this is where the security headquarters are located.

“I really am so sorry about what happened back there,” Raura says again, her voice laced with guilt. “I never imagined things would go so horribly wrong.”

I shake my head, reaching out to squeeze her hand reassuringly. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

She offers me a small smile, but the worry doesn’t leave her eyes. “I just…I wanted you to see how wonderful this place is. How accepting and warm everyone can be.” She gestures around us as we exit the stark security barracks and head down into what appears to be the main part of the town. “Like this little shopping area here,” she gestures, “there are always vendors selling their wares, music playing, people just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.”

I nod silently, taking in the quaint storefronts and bright awnings lining the street. It’s charming in a way I haven’t experienced in so long. Peaceful.

“And over there is the gathering hall where everyone gets together for events and meetings,” Raura continues, pointing out a large building up ahead. Her nervousness seems to be fading as she falls into the familiar role of tour guide. “Oh, and you’ll love the gardens! They’re just beautiful in spring and summer.”

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips as I listen to her chatter on. She’s so vibrant, so full of life and passion for this place. A stark contrast to the hardened, cynical man I’ve become over the years.

Before long, we reach what I assume is her home – a cozy apartment tucked above one of the shops. Raura pushes open the door, and I follow her inside, my eyes roaming over the space. It’s bright and airy, with colorful artwork on the walls and plush rugs covering the hardwood floors. So different from the cold, clinical cell I’d been kept in at the Enclave.

I turn to face Raura, and she’s watching me with those big, soulful eyes. For a moment, neither of us speaks. I’m content to simply soak in her presence, to revel in the fact that we’re here, together, away from that nightmare…

“I need to clean up those wounds,” she suddenly says, grazing a hand over my chest. For the first time, I’m aware of my torn shirt where blood has caked the fabric.

“It’s okay.” I touch her hand. “It’s already healed. Besides, you’ve played nursemaid more than enough.”

“I like it.” She nips her plump bottom lip between her teeth. “Not when you get hurt. But…but I like taking care of you.”

I stare at her for a moment. Maybe that’s what this feeling is. The sense of being cared for. “I like it when you do.” My voice has gone hoarse. Once again, we’re staring at each other in silence. My eyes drop to her mouth.

And then, somehow, I’m kissing her.

Tenderly at first, my lips moving slowly, reverently against hers. It’s as if a dam has burst within me, unleashing a torrent of emotions I’ve kept locked away for far too long. My hands thread through her silky hair, cradling her head as I angle my mouth over hers, deepening the kiss.

Raura’s arms twine around my neck, her body molding against mine as if she was made to fit there. I can taste the sweetness of her breath mingling with mine, can smell the wild scent of her skin. It’s overwhelming, this bone-deep connection I feel to her in this moment.

I pour everything into the kiss – the anguish of the last decade, the fury, the hopelessness…and the tiny flicker of light that she’s rekindled within me. It’s as if she’s breathing life back into my battered soul, making me feel whole in a way I haven’t in years.

When we finally pull apart, I’m trembling, overwhelmed by the intensity of what just passed between us. Raura’s eyes are wide, her lips parted on a soft exhale. She blinks up at me slowly.

“Riot…” she whispers, my name an awed breath on her lips. She doesn’t say more. There’s no need for more words now.

I lift her into my arms, and her legs instinctively wrap around my waist as I scoop her up. She moves her mouth to my neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as I carry her.

Desire lances through me, a sharp, aching need that seems to burn away the remnants of doubt and self-loathing. All I know in this moment is Raura, the scent of her, the feel of her against me.

In the center of the living room, I set her down on the deep rug, my eyes devouring her as I slowly peel away her clothes. It’s like unwrapping a precious gift, and I’m intent on savoring every inch of skin that’s revealed.

With gentle fingers, I slip her shirt over her head, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. My eyes roam over her, taking in the delicate curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist. I reach for the button of her jeans, my breath catching as I slide the zipper down.

I peel the denim over her hips and down her legs, sliding the pants past her feet and tossing them aside. I sink back onto my knees, then lower my gaze, my heart pounding as I take in the smooth lines of her hips, the curve of her thighs, the triangle of downy gold hair between them.

Fuck. She’s perfection.

“And now you,” she whispers, reaching out to me, fumbling with my shirt. I put my hand over hers to stop it, then take over, unbuttoning the thick flannel and removing it before shucking out of the ridiculous overalls. Kneeling here naked before her, I feel awkward, self-conscious. These scars that mar my body, the marks of countless battles, seem to shine out at me, branding me as some sort of monster.

But her eyes…they gleam with something like wonder as she traces the contours of my body. She sits up, placing her hand over my heart, then slowly dragging her fingers down my chest, following the path of a particularly nasty scar.