Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
I sink my teeth into his neck, and his groan of pure pleasure echoes off the ceiling. He tastes like a copper penny. His blood sizzles on my tongue, and then it lights my every nerve on fire, and I’m burning now, hotter and brighter than ever before.
“Mate,” I moan.
He blinks at me with bleary, blissed-out eyes. He holds me tight, and I lap at my bite, healing the wounds as I admire them. They’re not as big as mine, but they’re perfect all the same.
I wriggle in his arms. Why are we kneeling here?
“What’s wrong?” he murmurs. “What do you need?”
“You know. I’m hot.” My skin is on fire, and my insides are cramping, spasming on air.
“Do you want the pool?” He stands, lifting me, and strides over to the pool to lower me in. The water is cold, and I sink down until it licks my chin, but it’s not enough.
He steps in after me, and I turn, climb him, gnaw at the beautiful mark I’ve made. He rinses my hair with palms full of cool water.
“Killian.” I rise up, try to sink down on his hard cock, but he twists to the side.
“You need to build your nest. And you’ll need food and water. I have to go back up and get some. It’ll only be a minute. Okay?”
He’s frowning, and he’s talking nonsense. Except the nest. Yes. We do need that.
I push out of his arms. He lets me go, but he follows close behind. We’re dripping on the rock, and I slip, but his hands are already on my waist, steadying me. The pile of blankets is not very big.
“Don’t move. I’ll be quick.” He’s at the crack leading out of the cavern. My wolf snaps at him to stay.
“But you’ll need food.”
My wolf growls. I swear it sounds like she says if he leaves, she’ll chew his leg off.
Killian stays. I fix the nest. Thick wool blankets on the bottom, fluffy comforters on top. They smell like detergent and lavender sachets, which isn’t perfect, but it’s acceptable for now, especially with the scent of the cave in my nose. It’s dark and private and full of the essence of wolves from ages and ages ago. It’s pack.
I fluff a pillow and ease myself down. The heat is a beat in my chest, a cresting, crashing wave.
This is right. Everything is aligned. The moon is rising. My wolf can sense it.
I move onto my knees and arch my back, opening my chest, welcoming the bond. I close my eyes.
Killian comes to me. His steps fall heavy on the stone. My mate is strong and tall. He’s vicious, and wise, and he belongs to me.
I bend deeper, showing him that I’m ready. Inside, I blush, but I’m not only Una. I am Una and her wolf. We are shameless and demanding.
We’ve waited for this moment for a very long time.
Killian covers me. His cock prods my slick opening. I moan.
He whispers in my ear, “Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done for you, Una Hayes.”
And he sinks inside me, plunges deep, and my pussy is already fluttering, urging him on, to seed us with our pups and to make him ours again.
Epilogue
UNA
Change is hard.
That’s why there is a leather sofa half in and half out of our front door and a very pissed off Killian pacing in the kitchen, trying not to lose his shit.
He’s going to lose it.
We’ve been together for eighteen months, and relationships are hard. Especially with males who have always gotten their way and previously only used one way to settle an argument.
Tye is supposed to be helping me get rid of the sofa, but Killian gave an alpha command to “stop,” so now Tye’s standing at the top of the ramp Killian built to replace our front steps, blocking me from shoving the foul thing the rest of the way out of our cabin.
Of course, if I try to do it myself, Killian will restrain me. Very gently, but effectively. He’d never hurt me, but I haven’t been able to convince him that manhandling me is harmful. If he doesn’t like the look of something, he hauls me up like a sack of potatoes.
He doesn’t like the looks of most stairs, hills, freshly mopped floors, or trails with too many roots showing.
And he’s definitely not cool with his almost-ready-to-pop pregnant mate moving furniture. He’s caught me doing it a lot these past few weeks. It’s a sign the pup is coming soon if the aching hips, the ginormous belly, and the permanent indigestion weren’t enough advance notice.
I’m past ready. My ankles are swollen, my boobs are leaky, and I’m horny and mad at the same time-all the time. I’m not in the mood to suffer fools, and that’s what Killian is if he thinks I’m going to tolerate this repulsive thing in my space for another day.
“What’s wrong with the sofa again?” Killian’s using that “reasonable” tone of voice that I want to smack out of him.
“It stinks.”
“You never had a problem with it before.”
“It didn’t stink before.”
Tye bends over and takes a whiff. He shrugs at Killian like I’m nuts.
“It’s dead cow carcass treated with smashed brains, urine, and chemicals. I’m not nuts.” I hike my chin. My mate moves so the breakfast bar is between us.
“Where am I gonna sit, Una?”
“Sit on this.” I flip him the middle finger. I’ve picked up the habit from the males at the gym. When we were first mated, Killian liked me to hang out with him a lot-and I wanted to be around him all the time, too. I picked up tons of useful, new cuss words, and I was starting to learn how to fight when Killian caught a whiff of me one day, declared me preggo, and forbade me from doing anything more dangerous than weeding.
He’d probably be pissed if he knew the girls and I have dedicated the locked backroom of the old greenhouse to growing mandrake, hemlock, and henbane. The more I learned about Killian’s defensive efforts-the patrols, the contingency plans, the bunker under the commissary-the more I realized the threat from Last Pack and Moon Lake isn’t as far-fetched as I thought. If they are ever dumb enough to come for us, we’ll have more than fangs and claws to greet them.
Banning me from the gym was our first major fight, though. It ended with Killian buying me a Subaru and building me a raised garden in our backyard. I don’t remember exactly how it unfolded. I was shifting to my wolf a lot, and we were not using our words.
On the porch, Tye sighs, sinks to the sofa, and takes out his phone. “We’ve got a reconciliation match in a half hour,” he calls over his shoulder.
Those were my idea. You can’t leave ten males in the proverbial doghouse forever. You need to provide a path back to the pack’s good graces, or they stop bathing, spend too much time as wolves, and terrorize the chickens.
Hence-reconciliation matches. If a wannabe insurgent can beat an A-roster male-or go five rounds without getting knocked out-he can start eating meals in the lodge again.
Fallon was first to come back. It was a good day. I cried, but I waited until I was alone to do it. The pack is always looking at me now, but in a different way than before. I don’t want to call it awe, but it’s close. It’s how you look at a snake handler or a lion tamer, I guess. Like they’re insane, but also kind of magic.
Handling Killian Kelly isn’t magic. It’s all tenacity, an ability to ignore nonsense, and the willingness to tell him no a few times a day for his own good.
It turns out I’m pretty good at all of those things.
“Tye, put the sofa back.” Killian adds a growl to the order. Tye looks up.
“No.” I put my hands on my hips. Tye drops his gaze back to his phone.
“There’s not enough furniture in this camp to make you happy, female.”
“That’s a gross over-exaggeration, and you know it. This is the only thing I want out of the house. The rest I just moved around.”
“I have no idea where my good hand grip is.”
“What’s a hand grip?”
“Exactly!” Killian slaps the counter.
I’m screwing with him. I know what a hand grip strengthener is. It’s in the junk drawer behind him. I put it there after I almost knocked it into the toilet. He had been keeping it on the tank. And he thinks I put things in weird places.
This has gone on long enough. My feet hurt, and Killian does need to be at the gym. This match is important to Garrett and his family. His mother has been torn up since the failed coup. She started dropping by Abertha’s garden to plead his case, and now she comes over to help with my backyard garden every day.
She has a wicked green thumb. She said she never knew it before. She’d always been stuck in the kitchen. I’m not sure what exactly stuck her there, but she’s unstuck herself now.
A lot of females are branching out. Rowan convinced Ivo to teach her how to fight. Old Noreen is learning French cooking from Julia Child videos on the internet. Annie showed her YouTube, and it’s a good thing we all have unlimited data now.