My Ex Regretted Losing Me, But I Already Found My True Alpha novel · Chapter 6 of 16

Chapter 6: By You

I opened the door.

Soren stood on the porch in his dark wool coat with the snow of another country still on his shoulders.

He had to duck under the frame to look at me.

His pale eyes went over my face, my muddy hair, the blanket.

They stopped on the red mark on my cheek where Torin's mouth had scraped me.

He didn't say a word.

He just opened his arms, and I walked into them.

He smelled like pine smoke and airplane and home.

"You got it," I said into his sweater. "The video."

"All of it." His voice was very low. "Every piece until it went black."

His hands spread across my back, holding me.

"I watched your brother put you in the mud," he said. "I watched him throw you away into a river."

"Just the phone."

"No." He pulled back to look at me. "Not just the phone."

His jaw was set.

I knew that look.

It was the look he wore before he ended things.

"Soren. You said you'd let me do it."

"I said Saturday."

"It's nearly Saturday."

He breathed out slowly through his nose.

Then he put his forehead against mine.

"Fine," he said. "Tomorrow. Your way."

"Thank you."

"But if one of them touches you again before then, I stop being patient."

"How did you get past the guard?"

"Who's the guard?"

"The man on the path."

"There was no one on the path." He almost smiled. "There was a wolf lying very flat under a bush, pretending I wasn't there."

I laughed.

It came out wet, halfway to crying.

He kissed me then.

Slowly, like we had all the time in the world.

Then not slowly at all.

Two days of being alone in that place went out of me at once.

His hand slid into my muddy hair and held my head where he wanted it, and I let him.

My wolf rose under my skin so fast it made me dizzy.

His thumb moved along my jaw, and I pulled him inside by the front of his coat and kicked the door shut behind us.

The blanket slid off my shoulders onto the cabin floor.

He backed me toward the stove until the warmth hit my legs.

Then he stopped, and his thumb found the red mark on my cheek, barely touching it.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I'm filthy," I said. "I've got half the riverbank in my hair."

"That isn't what I asked."

"No. I'm not hurt."

He listened to the answer the way he listens to every answer.

He heard no lie in it.

His shoulders came down an inch.

"Then let me wash it off you," he said.

"Later."

I pushed his coat off his shoulders and let it fall on top of the blanket.

Snow from another country melted into the floorboards.

I got my hands under his sweater, and his stomach jumped under my cold fingers.

He hissed.

"Your hands are ice."

"Warm them up, then."

He looked down at me with those pale eyes gone almost black.

"You told me to let you do it your way," he said. "Is this your way too?"

"Tonight, yes."

"Then tell me what you want, Luna."

I told him.

I watched the words land on his face.

Then the High Alpha of the Northern Council went down on his knees on the floor of the cabin my family had put me in like an exile, and looked up at me, and waited.

"Yes."

The word came out of me quiet and certain, like I'd been holding it in my mouth since the airport.

His eyes didn't leave mine.

He didn't move.

He just knelt there with the stove light flickering over his face and waited, because he knows me, because he knows the first yes is only the door opening.

I stepped closer.

The heat from the stove pressed against my legs, and the front of my sweater was still damp from the riverbank.

I reached down and pushed the hair back from his forehead.

My fingers left a smear of dried mud on his skin.

He didn't flinch.

"Again," he said.

"Yes, Soren."

His hands came up and found the hem of my sweater.

Slow, so slow, like undressing me was the whole night and he had no interest in hurrying it.

The wool peeled up over my stomach, my ribs, and the cold air bit at the wet places.

Then it was off, and his mouth was on my stomach, just below my navel.

I put my hand on the back of his head and felt the damp there from the snow that had melted into his hair on the porch.

He kissed lower.

His tongue dipped into the waistband of my trousers, and my hips pushed toward him without asking me.

"I'm covered in river mud," I said.

"I know."

He unbuttoned my trousers with one hand while the other held my hip.

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