The Alpha’s Forced Mate
Chapter 14

Veronica

Thunder. Lightning. Screams.

The repetitive sound, the rushing motion, was all I could feel. While my gut rolled ceaselessly, my head pounded with the promise of a headache bigger than any hangover I’d ever had.

And that was just while I was sleeping.

What was going to happen when I finally woke up?

Loud claps persisted beyond my awareness. Rushing winds swept me from where I lay, transporting me into a horrifying landscape made of ash and soot. Wherever I looked, monsters crawled from the cracks in the ground, unearthed by swirling tornadoes that threatened to steal me away.

No, not me. My soul. They wanted to take me over, to steal what made me distinctly a shifter. My wolf howled at them, committed to defending the very flesh that made her whole.

And it made me whole too. It made me the person who had defended a c0cky and reckless alpha who chose to show off his intelligence rather than his emotional vulnerability.

A feverish shiver forced me to open my eyes. I practically lunged from the bed, reaching out to grab what was in front of me. It was a warm body, a comforting hand, and a rock-hard chest that slammed into me.

“You’re alright, Nica,” assured that calm, masculine voice. “I’m right here.”

Patchouli. Pine. A much stronger hint of musk beneath, like the dried sweat that came from fear. My fingers wound into his hair. My heart joined his rhythm. My entire body wept, victorious over the fact that he was holding me, that he was the one who saved me.

The burning sensation in my throat made me recoil. “What happened? Where am I? What are you doing? Why are we here?”

Blake leaned back and held my right shoulder. The other he ignored—or purposefully avoided. It was hard to think through the haze of images still splashing through my mind. Ashen deserts. Cracked earth. Shadows. Monsters lunging from every available corner.

And Blake standing in the middle of everything with b***d pouring from his mouth.

I cupped his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Nica. Sit back. Rest. Please.”

“No, I have to—”

He gently placed his hand on my chest and pushed me back. My head slumped into a cool pillow and the rest of my limbs followed, a strange sense of accomplishment washing over me from seeing him act this way.

From seeing his vulnerability.

From seeing him care.

“F**k,” I hissed. “Sh!t.”

‘Those are colorful ways to describe what just happened, yes.”

“The gardens—there was a guy.” My eyes widened. “Mel—”

Blake frowned. “What did you say?”

Fear lit my b***d on fire. I clutched my chest while bowing forward, trying to keep the bile from rising in my throat.

Don’t throw up on him, I begged. Don’t throw up on yourself. Hold it together.

I squeezed my eyes shut while trying to steady my breathing. A monitor beeped rapidly to my right. Sneakers squeaked over the tile. Low voices murmured nearby.

Cool hands gently pried my hands away from my chest. Dr. Windsor came into view, her calm demeanor taking some of the edge off. “Veronica, I need you to lie down. Your b***d pressure is off the charts.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Here, this should help.”

Fresh oxygen flooded my nostrils from a plastic mask. Once the delightful high hit, my eyelids fluttered and I slouched into the hospital bed, fingers curling and uncurling in quick succession. Behind Dr. Windsor, Blake paced the room, worriedly glancing at me every so often.

I was really putting him through the wringer, wasn’t I?

Seconds later, my b***d pressure leveled and I didn’t feel as light-headed as I had when I’d shot up from the bed. After stern instructions from Dr. Windsor to get some rest, she left, dimming the lights to allow me to recover from the panic attack I’d just suffered.

Or something like that.

Blake crossed the room in two strides. The moment I tried to sit up, he growled.

I held up my hands. “Jesus, fine. I’m done.”

“You’ll be happy to know that I ended the trials.”

Oh god, sweet relief.

And a massive layer of guilt.

My brows dipped together.

That was Melvin who tried to stab Blake, I thought as Blake settled on the bed next to me. He tried to finish the job.

I fixed my expression, shifting it easily to confusion. “Why?”

“Because you’re the winner.”

Nausea returned at full force. “Excuse me?”

“You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Nica. You protected me. That’s your job from now on.” He bowed his head. “Should you choose to accept it.”

“Okay, hit the brakes. Why are you calling me Nica? Why do I have to choose? I thought the whole trial thing was so you could choose.”

Canines sharpened. Eyes flashed. Pheromones filled the room faster than smoke from a fire. It didn’t make sense. And yet it did, at the same time. I just couldn’t sort out what was real and what was fantasy.

And why I even wanted the fantasy to be true at all.

“It’s just a nickname,” he finally replied. “I thought it was fitting.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t like it.”

“You do that a lot.”

“What?”

He snorted. “You try to protect your feelings by shielding your heart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re doing it right now, Nica.”

That name sounded so sweet on his tongue. Did it taste as good as it sounded? And how could I find out without giving up my position?

Nothing made sense. Maybe it was the painkillers. Or that stupid dagger.

I hissed as my shoulder flared with pain.

Blake nodded. “I was wondering when you were going to feel it.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Even through his irritation, he managed to seem kind and compassionate. He leaned forward to check the bandages, taking extra care around the parts that were sensitive. Which was the whole thing if I was being honest. Everything hurt, even my heart.

But not for the reasons I wanted it to hurt.

“We make a great team,” he whispered. “You and I have a natural connection. There’s no use fighting it.”

“We fvcked one time, Blake.”

A crooked smirk crossed his l!ps. “That wasn’t just f*****g. Not by a long shot.”

My thighs twitched as my slit ached for attention. He was right—and I hated how right he was. Nothing about that night had been even close to a hookup. Sure, it wasn’t like I had the experience to back it up, but from what I’d been told and what I’d seen on the internet, what we had was totally different.

It was love.

The skin of my upper cheek twitched violently. Warmth radiated from his palm that rested on my thigh. I wanted nothing more than to whip off the sheets and tackle him to the ground.

“Whatever,” I snapped. “I’m tired.”

“Which means you’re worried.”

I squinted at him. “You can’t read my thoughts.”

“I can read a lot more than you give me credit for, Nica.”

Fury was the least of my worries, yet it boiled to the surface as if it was just as important as everything else. He didn’t understand my situation. I had to figure out how to get the hell away from this mansion and away from the coast—from everything.

Because if Melvin had been captured, then he would either be tortured into spilling his plans or killed on the spot. In either case, Raymond would be furious. And that meant my head would roll as a result.

This is a mess, I thought. I closed my eyes and tried to turn away from Blake’s energy. Yet all I wanted to do was turn toward it. Talk about confusing. What does he think this is? A reality show?

Blake touched my hand. All my thoughts settled instantly. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, Nica. I want you to come to terms with this in your own time.”

My eyes roamed to him, but I didn’t let my guard down.

“I want you to move in with me.”

Bile pinched my cheeks. This time, I couldn’t stop it from happening. Blake grabbed a tray and set it in my hands just as I threw up. Embarrassment washed over me in hot waves as nausea forced me to spill the contents of my stomach.

Which wasn’t much, considering all I’d eaten today was two scones and a coffee.

Red in the face and gasping for air, I set the tray aside and tried to ignore the fact that the guy who wanted me to be his mate had just watched me hurl. But did it really matter? I wasn’t going to stick around for this. I had to form a plan. I had to get out.

A warm cloth swept over my mouth. Just like before, my thoughts melted away and I was left lazily peering up at the man who, for some reason, cared about my well-being. He stroked my cheek lightly.

“Just think about it, okay?” he asked. “Can you do that?”

I nodded.

It didn’t matter how bad the situation was or how I was risking his life by sticking around. I couldn’t stop myself from agreeing to those terms. They were reasonable. They were simple. They were safe.

Because regardless of how bad this was getting—despite the screaming that had started up all over again in my mind—I wanted to stay. I wanted to see this through. I wanted to know what my life would be like with a mate instead of hunting down enemy packs and assassinating their alphas.

I was tired of training, of running, of hiding my face. I was sick of my crummy apartment and my drunk—soon-to-be dead—best friend. I was irked by my leader’s actions and his insistence that this man standing in front of me was somehow a threat to our pack.

But how?

What had Blake done that was so awful he deserved to be put to death?

My throat clicked as I swallowed. “I’m so sorry.”

He cupped my face and shushed me. “Stop. You’re making yourself sick.”

“I’m so—”

A sob bubbled in my throat.

Blake shushed me again and crawled onto the bed, forcing me to lean back. He curled into the space beside me. He wrapped his arm lightly around my wa!st. He wedged his leg between my thighs. Nothing seemed to deter him from comforting me, not even the b***d that trickled from my unhealed wound.

Gods, I knew my mouth was rancid. I probably smelled like a wolf who had touched death. It was the worst kind of rank stink, the horrible mixture of adrenaline and fear baked into my flesh, into my very DNA.

Yet he didn’t run away. He didn’t resist my l!ps. He freely k!ssed my flesh and stroked every inch of my skin that was available.

Even the wounded parts.

Minutes turned into hours. Darkness shifted over the window as I lost consciousness, swimming through an array of feelings. Impress my leader or have the best life I could ever dream of having? Which one was I going to choose? It almost didn’t matter because, in both scenarios, someone would kill Blake.

And in one of those scenarios, it would be me.

A squeak slid from me as I launched up from the bed. Strong arms muscled me back down. Soft l!ps assured my flesh I was safe. Blue eyes held me locked in a staring match until I registered that Blake was the one sitting with me, not a grim reaper or Raymond or Melvin.

Just Blake.

Just the man who wanted to be my mate.

“I don’t understand,” I whined as tears returned. Uncontrollable sniffs erupted from me as I tried to contain the sobs. “What’s happening to me? Why you?”

“Nica, don’t question it, okay?”

I shook my head. I had to question it. If I didn’t, then I would lose my life. Every outcome showed me that Blake would inevitably die and I would be torn to pieces. Death loomed around every corner. Wouldn’t it just be easier for us to throw ourselves off a cliff instead?

“Maybe we can hide,” I reasoned out loud. “We could leave the coast and go to the Midwest. Kansas. You ever been to Kansas?”

He laughed. “Whatever Dr. Windsor gave you must be lit.”

“Shut up. Nobody says that anymore. It makes you sound weird.”

“I told you to make me.”

Affection clogged every channel I tried to use to think logically. There was no point. I was too wounded, too weak to figure anything out for myself. Blake was going to get caught in the crossfire. Planned or not, he was going to lose everything.

Just like me.

I wrapped my arms around him. “I can’t do this. I just can’t, Blake.”

“You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll handle everything.”

“If I move in, I’ll…” I bit off the sentence.

I’ll do what? Kill him?

Or embrace him?

And which one was I more afraid of?