Page 16 of Betrayed Alpha Mate

“Shut up,” I say blandly, rolling my eyes. “Did you stop me from leaving just to gloat?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I stopped you ‘cause I can’t resist you, remember? It’s no wonder I was crazy about you,” he taunts. “No wonder I just had to be around you last night.”

My eyes narrow at him. “So you were outside my window last night…”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “You only have yourself to blame for this.”

“I don’t need shit from you, Sean. I have enough on my plate,” I tell him sternly, but Sean remains unbothered. He peels himself off the couch and proceeds to stroll closer, and with every step comes a pulse in my palms, as if my heart resides there. It beats there, steadily at first, before it thrums with life.

A slow gasp escapes my lips, but I wear armor on my face so he doesn’t see through me. I can’t afford to let my guard down—not when I have to double-up on my defenses to ensure I don’t fall victim to his charm.

But Goddess knows that charm is dangerous, lethal when he’s standing so close to me. So close that I can smell the scent I’ve been refusing to acknowledge all these years.

Sandalwood and berries….

An odd pairing for the type of man Sean is. He’s not supposed to smell warm or sweet like home. But he does, and I hate him for it. He’s a predator with tricks up his sleeve. An addictive scent, an infectious smile, a chiseled jawline framed with a dark beard that adds to the illusion, and a tuft of dark curls at the top of his head that I just want to sink my—

“I’m not gonna give you shit anymore, okay?” he says as he holds up both hands in surrender. “I’m sorry for just now. I thought it was fun teasing you, but I realize it’s wrong of me.”

I frown at his sudden ability to be accountable for his actions, still doubtful of his motives. “Does this mean you changed your mind about the marriage?”

Sean smirks as he lowers his arms. “Of course not. You heard the others. There’s no way out of this. You need me for your powers, and I need you—”

Sean stops abruptly, and my frown deepens. “You need me for what, Sean?”

He runs a hand through his hair, lowering his head and staring at me through the veil of his dark lashes, looking too mysterious, too good.

“You know why I need you around, Emily. I have this spell on me….”

My breath catches as I stare into his ocean-blue eyes, my heart skipping a beat before it races and completely knocks the wind out of me. It takes every ounce of inner strength I can muster to pull myself together, to draw myself out of the curse of his penetrating gaze, just so I can spin on my heel and storm out of his house without looking back.

Perhaps I’m punishing him by putting this distance between us, but it’s only for the sake of my sanity. So why does it feel like I’m punishing myself?

It must be because I feel disconnected from my gifts by the time I’m at my cottage. The little sanctuary of my four walls feels empty now when I lock the door behind me, and the void can be felt around me, and internally, too.

I made the biggest mistake of my life when I took matters into my own hands and thought I could uncover my powers without anyone’s help. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I ended up surprising myself by binding Sean to me.

As if it wasn’t painful enough to be bound to him the first time around.

***

Five Years Ago

The heart rate monitor beeps uncontrollably, my own heart pounding as I will myself into routine movements. Panic fills my bones as I do my best to stay calm, so I drown out the relentless beating and focus on what I need to do.

A vial full of cortisone. A syringe. A needle. A patient with an incurable autoimmune condition.

The inflammation is attacking her lungs now, and it’s becoming harder to breathe. I rushed in to the sound of her wheezing as if she was going to throw up her lungs.

As the cortisone rushes through her veins, her breathing stabilizes almost immediately, and a wave of relief washes over me. I finally look up to see Sean on the other side of the bed, kneeling beside his mother as he clutches her hand. His face is ruined with tears, eyes downcast and deflated as he stares at his mother’s face.

Alpha Joseph is at the foot of the bed, equally deflated, defeated, torn apart from seeing his mate, his wife, succumb to her chronic illness in a way that’s eating her from the inside out.

I can only imagine what he’s going through, and I can only pray that I never experience something as heart-wrenching as this.

Evelyn Lowell’s breathing stabilizes, and I’m able to replace the oxygen mask on her face. She manages a faint smile—the only thanks she can manage ever since her condition worsened about a week ago.

I brush aside a stray hair from her face before offering Alpha Joseph a quiet nod. As I step aside to leave the bedroom to give her son and husband a moment alone with her after that scare, Alpha Joseph begins to sob.