Chapter 55: More than Mates

OLIVIA

Alex kept his promise.

They had escaped from their own celebration.

He guided her to a secluded, vacant room in the basement. It was sparsely furnished with a table and a few chairs, but it was sufficient.

A couple of windows offered them a view of the ongoing party in the yard, and it gave him a chance to keep an eye on everyone. He had brought drinks, but she chose not to partake, ~given the circumstances~.

However, she did indulge in the food.

It was pleasant, just the two of them, alone, after everything that had transpired.

She could tell he was under stress.

His eyes were surrounded by creases, and he blinked excessively, as if fatigue was relentlessly tugging at him. She had been coasting along, but he had been laboring to keep everything running smoothly.

He had supported her during her heat; he had maintained the pack’s stability. He was managing everything.

“Is your schedule always this packed? Or is something up?”

She wasn’t sure how much information she was entitled to.

Maya had emphasized the importance of respecting boundaries and hierarchy, but perhaps she could feign ignorance. She had never been particularly adept at adhering to rules, especially those related to being a werewolf.

“He wasn’t entirely mistaken.”

She held her breath. “What are you implying?”

He reclined in his chair, his gaze scanning the floor. “There are malevolent alphas out there. Maybe they were always jerks, maybe they became desperate. But they don’t always care about others.”

“Alright?”

Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipating the impending bad news. He clearly wasn’t keen on informing her that Will had been partially correct.

There was more to it; he was gradually breaking it to her. And that frightened her. What was so terrible that he couldn’t just ~say~ it? Why did he need to prepare her?

“You’re the only omega in the pack.”

“Alright.”

“Some packs don’t have any omegas.”

Chills ran down her spine, and her initial reaction was to move her chair closer to his. It felt as though his nearness would offer her extra protection. ~Alpha strong. Alpha safe~.

She attempted to reach out to him, but quickly withdrew her hand.

Regrettably, he noticed. His large hand enveloped hers, squeezing it gently. ~As if he understood what she needed~.

And she didn’t even have to voice it.

“A lot of packs have been snooping around.”

Her stomach churned, and her throat tightened. “F-for me?”

Alex rubbed the underside of his jaw, clenching it as he struggled to find the right words.

“You were unmarked, you had your heat…”

Packs were after her? Maya’s words echoed in her head; ~number one baby machine~. “What—to—to mate with me? To impregnate me?”

His grip on her hand tightened, his knuckles turning pale. “In the past, omegas weren’t always treated well. They’re rare, so some find it difficult to let go of old habits. Or they’re that desperate.”

“And that justifies it?”

“~No~,” he bellowed, the word resonating within her. “It doesn’t. I’m trying to explain the situation to you.”

She moistened her lips before pressing them together.

What was she supposed to do with this revelation? “You mentioned I was unmarked. I’m not anymore.” She couldn’t forget it; the mark often pulsed, throbbed, reminding her of its existence on her skin.

“It should deter most of them. No matter how twisted they are, mates are mates. You belong to someone. Most won’t cross that boundary.”

She let out a cynical laugh. “So, when I’m just me, I can be treated as a commodity. But if I ~belong~ to someone, then I’m off-limits, right? How considerate.”

He released her hand and leaned forward, his forehead touching hers. She felt tears prick at her eyes, but she fought them back.

His declaration of his need for her hadn’t made her feel like she was someone’s possession, but now the thought made her nauseous.

His warm hands cradled her face, and he planted a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You belong to me, Livy…” He kissed her again. “But I also belong to you.”

If she looked down, she could see the mark she had left on him. She had one, but so did he.

“We ~possess~ each other. This isn’t about one person making all the decisions. That’s not what a mating ~is~.”

Her lips quivered, her body vibrating with tremors. She angled her face, pressing her nose into his cheek. ~He smells so good. Like home should smell~.

“So what does it mean?”

“It means we’re there for each other, always. No matter where, we’ll find each other. I’m not going anywhere. We’re connected. It means when I see you, I want to say ~screw~ everything else.

“You know what I want to do? I want to take you somewhere, just us. I want you bare, so I can feel every bit of you.

“I want to make love to you until my name is the only word you know.

“Then I want to lie there with you, naked, holding you, feeling you. I want to hear your voice as you talk to me, feel your heart pound when I’m near. That’s what it means.”

His words alone could sometimes steal her breath. How was she supposed to think, to breathe, when he spoke like that? It didn’t help her guilt either.

She was always trying to catch up, and he was always waiting. Each time she thought about it, her chest tightened and her throat constricted.

He looked at her, waiting for her to speak, but she was speechless. What could she possibly say after that? She let her chest rise and fall with each breath, her mind scrambling for a response.

“So, we’re…destined for each other?”

“You’ll have to let me show you why we are.”

“Okay.”

No arguments, no resistance. Somehow, in a world full of people, he was her person.

They shouldn’t have met that night, but they did. And she didn’t even want to think about what might have happened if they hadn’t.

She’d still be there, waiting for Will. Like a damn fool.

Unaware of all the terrible truths. She thought meeting Alexander was a curse, but it changed her life. It was overwhelming, but it was for the best.

“If we hadn’t met…”

“But we did.”

“I know, but—”

He silenced her with a kiss, his lips claiming hers. He cradled the back of her head, moving his lips against hers, consuming her mouth. He left her lips swollen and wet.

“It doesn’t matter, because we did, and that’s all that matters. There’s no point dwelling on the past, Livy, we can’t change it.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“You’re never worried, are you? You just accept things, and you—you roll with it.”

“I believe everything happens for a reason. Do I despise that jerk? Absolutely. But without him, I wouldn’t have found you. I hate what he did to you, but it led you to me.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You know what life was like before?

“Like I was just going through the motions. I have all this stuff to handle, to take care of, and until recently, I didn’t know ~why~ I was doing it. Now? Now, I do it to protect you. Us.”

He moved his hand to her stomach, cradling the non-existent bump that ~might~ be there.

She hadn’t mentioned it again, but he hadn’t forgotten. She tried to push it out of her mind, but it kept creeping back in.

Every time she felt a hint of nausea—even if it had only been a few days—she wondered. It was always there, lurking in the back of her mind. But there he was, bringing it up so casually in the midst of his ~love~ declaration.

Everything seemed so ~simple~ for him.

“It doesn’t scare you?”

He dipped his head, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. “You want the truth?”

“Always.” Her voice was almost pleading.

His warm lips kissed her neck, drawing blood to the surface of her skin. “Kinda turns me on.”

~It does what now~? “The thought of me bloated with swollen feet turns you on?” she asked, a nervous laugh slipping out.

That made no sense. How could he be so confident about everything? So certain? How was he not terrified?

He used his grip on her to pull her closer. He tugged until she landed in his lap.

“Firstly, you will ~always~ turn me on. No matter what.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she froze as his large hand rested on the small of her back.

“Secondly, ~yes~. The thought of you carrying my child is incredibly appealing. You, heavy with my child, on top of me, that’s a beautiful image.” He breathed in her scent and she felt a shiver of pleasure.

“Your rounded belly would show ~them~ that you’re taken. You’re mine.”

A warmth spread through Olivia at his words. Her hands roamed his chest, finally settling on his shoulders.

They hadn’t been intimate since her last cycle. In a way, it was a relief; she had been ~sore~. But now, with his legs between hers, his body pressed against hers, and his whispered words…

She wondered why he hadn’t touched her again.

His hands moved to her backside and she felt him squeeze. He kissed a path up her neck, making his way to her jaw.

“Do you know what I’d do if there weren’t any windows?” His warm breath tickled her ear.

She shook her head.

“I’d bend you over that table and take you.”

~Oh God~. Could he do it anyway?

Without thinking, she began to move her hips against him, enjoying the pressure building beneath her; someone was ~rising~ to the occasion.

She only managed a few thrusts before he stopped her.

“You’re a dangerous little thing,” he murmured, his teeth grazing her skin. He took a deep breath and then pushed her back into her chair.

“We’re going to keep you over there.”

“Why?”

The question slipped out before she could stop it. Her mind was foggy, her body warm and yearning for him. She remembered all too well what his touch felt like.

“Because. You want to know me. You’re going to know me. And to do that, we have to talk. And if you want us to talk, you’re going to have to sit over there.”

She fought the urge to pout at his words. But she knew he was right.

She was the one who had panicked and said she didn’t know anything about him and started firing off questions. He was being the reasonable one.

“Alright, let’s ~talk~.”

He laughed. “You almost sound excited.”

She grunted.

“If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you touch me.”

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll let ~you~ touch me.”

He grinned. “I’ll be very good then.”

Alex was right. Talking was the way to go.

She wanted to know him, and he was willing to be an open book. This was what they needed.

~Now get your mind out of the gutter, Olivia~.

This bond might be the death of her.

And she didn’t even mind.