Page 82 of Alpha Ruined
And as delicious as the scent of her fear is, he still wants his mate to feel safe.
He sits up in her bed, watching the moonlight illuminate her face as she sleeps.
The scent of her impending Heat is almost enough to send him into a violent Rut. Thankfully, he doubled his med dosage, so he’s fully prepared for when she needs him.
He can’t believe how lucky he is, after everything questionable he’s done in his life. His mate practically handed herself over to him,andshe’s never spent her Heat with another Alpha.
He holds her hand as she rests, gently tracing her ring finger, doing a rough measurement in his head of her possible ring size.
Only the best for Breana. He wonders how many carats she’ll wear before she insists it’s too much.
But there’s a more pressing matter ruminating in the back of his mind, haunting him as he tries to sleep.
If she finds out what he’s done, he’s not sure she’ll ever forgive him.
He’s unsure if he could even explainwhyhe does what hedoes—he imagines the horror on her beautiful face if she discovers his secrets.
But he didn’t know he would find his mate.
He never believed in soulmates before her, and now that she’s here, he’s determined to never let her leave.
Whether she forgives him or not, she’s his.
Forever.
He spendsthe next few days playing the dutiful boyfriend.
He’s on cloud fucking nine with her, breathing in her scent every chance he can as it grows sweeter.
“You don’t have to do that,” she insists as she sits at the kitchen island, perched on a stool. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking for myself.”
“You’re perfectly capable of a lot of things,” he agrees, as he cooks her stir-fry. “Except for allowing me to dote on you, apparently.”
Bree makes a face at him, but it doesn’t stop the beautiful flush that spreads across her cheeks. “Doting or obsessing? I could swear I felt you watching me sleep last night, weirdo.” But there’s no malice in her tone, just amusement.
He grins. “Nothing I could dream about would be better than looking at you, so what’s the point?”
She chokes on her water. “You’re ridiculous,” she croaks, shaking her head. “You can’t mean half the things you say.”
“I don’t make a habit of lying, Bree.”
“But you’re in law, aren’t you?” There’s a teasing glint in her eyes as she cocks her head. “I’m sure you’ve bent the truth one way or another before.”
His smile falls slightly as he’s reminded of how much he’s hiding from her. “And what about you, Miss Journalist?” Hespoons the food into a bowl and places it on the island in front of her, and she murmurs her thanks. “You’ve never manipulated words to make someone appear the way you want them to on paper?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.” She fiddles with her chopsticks and looks down into the bowl. “But…” she looks back up at, her gray eyes soft. “I don’t do it with you. I haven’t sugarcoated who I am.”
He joins her on the adjacent stool and presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Then don’t start now,” he whispers.
“As long as you promise not to.”
His chest aches as he nods.
But the smile she gives him is worth it, and he allows his guilt to fade when she takes a bite of her food and lets out a soft moan at his cooking.
“So, law, huh? Any crazy cases?”Kyle asks him, taking a sip from his beer.