Page 25 of Rejected Alpha Mate

Stunned, I can only stare wide-eyed at my own hand, at the invisible threads that wind around it, keeping me from pulling it back. I meet Nicholas’s eyes briefly enough to snap me out of whatever that was, the forest-green orbs a grounding force that helps me snatch my hand away.

But it’s his eyes I’m staring at accusingly as I wring my hands together, my right palm still tingling like it has a life of its own, a heartbeat of its own.

Nicholas frowns as he turns his head to his shoulder, then lifts his eyes back to my face, brow wrinkled with disbelief.

“What did you just do…?” he accuses, and my heart skips a beat, dread following as it slithers down my spine.

What did I just do?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, partly in shock, partly in denial of what I just experienced.

Chapter 8 - Nicholas

I lift my eyes to Donna as she stares at me dubiously, clearly unaware of what just happened.

Or, maybe she is aware, and she’s just ignoring how she felt.

But I’m not oblivious to it, and I know something different happened this time. It’s why I’m prompted to undo the buttons on my shirt, pulling the left side off my shoulder and gasping in shock when clean flesh is exposed.

Up until this evening, the wound inflicted by Tobias was clearly still visible, unhealed, raw, as if his bite remained fresh even after two days. I didn’t have any stitches, relying solely on my werewolf’s healing abilities, even if they were slower than I would have liked.

“Did you…Did you just heal me?” The words feel strange as they leave my lips, absurd even, but it's not the first time I’ve seen magic being wielded.

But Donna is Dominic’s sister; she doesn't have magic. What a ridiculous thought to have.

Unless she does…

Donna, clearly stunned, shakes her head slowly to dismiss the idea. But I’m already suspicious, touching the spot on my shoulder that was miraculously healed by Donna’s touch. The fated mate bond couldn’t have done this—it’s not something recorded in our history. Sure, sped-up healing is possible for an alpha, but not whatever happened when Donna touched me.

My breath hitches in my throat when I catch Donna staring at my exposed shoulder, doing her best to keep her eyes in one spot, but I see them twitch as if she’s fighting the urge to move them to my chest. The air becomes thick with unspoken words, and I’m also fighting a battle of my own—an internal one, hailing from my inner wolf who wants to reach out and grab her and capture her lips because they should be mine.

Why else would she be so tempting, so enticing to my inner wolf, except that she’s supposed to be mine? But I only have myself to blame for the mountains of distance between us, and this rising tension between us isn’t going to end well if I let it simmer like this. With a deep breath, I straighten up, my eyes squaring at Donna.

“It wasn’t healed until a few moments ago,” I reveal, and Donna frowns at my face. “It wasn’t healed until you touched me.”

There’s a glint of realization in Donna’s eyes, but she quickly douses her own suspicions with a click of her tongue.

“I don’t believe you,” she dismisses, pushing past me to busy herself at the stove. She grabs a few kitchen towels from the holder, then proceeds to crouch where the egg cracked and spilled out.

I try to stop her, crouching beside her and attempting to take the kitchen towels from her when I’m jostled by the surge of electricity that comes whenever we make physical contact. It keeps me paralyzed momentarily—long enough to recognize that the mate bond’s gravitational pull isn’t the same as what occurred when Donna touched my shoulder.

Her eyes flicker to mine, warm and brown, soft and free of wrath. Even if it’s only for a moment, it at least gives me hope.

Or, perhaps, that’s what I always found in her warm, brown eyes—a sense of hope that I needed to escape because I knew better. I knew that it would have done her no good to be with me, but now she’s here, as my mate, as my wife, and I can’t even touch her without her scowling at me accusingly.

“Donna….”

The sound of my voice is what snaps her out of her daze, and she’s scowling at me again.

“Here.” She tosses the towels at me and stands up. “You clean it.”

I nod and keep my lips pursed, cleaning up the egg on the floor before slowly getting back up. Donna is once again acting oblivious to the charged air between us, busying herself with another task as she grabs a knife from the stand to cut the bell peppers with.

One deliberate slice is all it takes to warn me that I need to tread carefully unless I want my nose cut off. I have to hide my amusement watching her continue to prepare ‘breakfast at midnight.’ She must really be hungry.

Her stomach growls in response to my thought, and I turn my face away to hide my smile.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me?” she snaps, and I hold my hands up in a show of surrender.