Page 58 of Betrayed Alpha Mate
“Em…?” I call out gently toward her as she begins to move toward the hallway. She stops and turns, but her head remains bent, as if weighed down by all the fear wearing on her mind.
“Yeah?”
I gulp hard when I hear her timid voice, every instinct in me screaming to go to her and pull her into my arms. But she doesn’t need me to be overbearing right now. It’s probably space she needs.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Emily requires space before she can truly open up to me. All I can do is reaffirm that I’m here for her.
“You can sleep in my room tonight,” I say, and a faint light flashes through her eyes.
“Sure,” she says with a half-smile before turning back and dragging her feet down the hallway.
No protest. No argument. A seamless agreement that tells me she’s not okay.
Later that night, I turn the house into a fortress. I don’t ask permission. I don’t debate. I act.
Guards rotate in silent shifts around the perimeter. I reinforce every window with iron-laced bars that are strong enough to slow dark magic, subtle enough not to alert it. Dustin and the other soldiers are on standby, all because of what the witches found tonight—if either Emily or I gets hurt, the other suffers. Neither of us can be in danger.
When I enter my bedroom, I find Emily still awake, reading one of the witches’ leather-bound books. She doesn’t say anything at first when I walk in, but she steals glances at me as I go about taking off my shoes and disappearing into the bathroom. When I return to the room, she just glares every time I pass, her jaw tight, magic simmering beneath her skin like a live wire. Through the bond, I feel her irritation coil into anger, sharp and bitter, scraping against my nerves.
It explodes when I reach the bed.
“This has to stop,” she snaps, lifting her head from the book.
“What are you talking about?” I ask with a frown, not sure where this is coming from.
Emily huffs as she climbs out of bed, then marches to the window where she yanks on the curtain and pulls on the drawstring of the blind. She points to the soldiers posted on either side of the window, then to the metal bars covering the glass like a prison. “You can’t cage me in my own house, Sean.”
I stall for a moment, only because she referenced this house as “hers,” and that should make me feel proud, like she’s finally accepting that she belongs here with me. But she glares at me angrily, warning me that this is no time to rejoice.
“I’m not caging you,” I fire back. “I’m keeping you alive.”
Her laugh is brittle. “This isn’t protection, Sean. It’s suffocation.”
“You’re bleeding power in your sleep,” I snap. “The Harrower is already inside your head, and you want me to give you what? Space? At a time like this?”
Emily flinches, and regret hits me immediately—but it’s too late.
“You don’t trust me,” she says quietly.
“That’s not true.” I frown. “This isn’t about—”
“You don’t trust me,” she repeats, her voice cracking. “You trust the bond. You trust your instincts. But you don’t trust that I am strong enough against the Harrower.”
My chest tightens painfully, as if I’d been stabbed and the knife had been twisted.
“I have been on the other side of what happens to you when she plays tricks on your mind, Em. And I already lost you once before,” I admit, the words tearing free. “I can’t—” My voice breaks. “I can’t lose you again. Not like that. Not permanently. I’m not willing to risk it. I will cage us both in if I have to, if it means I don’t lose you.”
Her walls fracture just enough for the truth to bleed through the bond.
Fear. Raw. Choking.
That’s what she’s feeling. That’s the reason for her outburst.
“The bond makes me feel things,” she whispers. “Things I don’t want to feel. Needing you feels like drowning, Sean. Like if I let go, I’ll disappear into you and never get myself back.”
The words gut me, and I’m already walking toward her. “I don’t want to take anything from you,” I say hoarsely. “I just want you alive.”
“I know,” she says through a sob as I wrap my arms around her. “And that’s what scares me.”
