Page 66 of Rejected Alpha Mate

“I saw everything,” I reveal. “It felt like a dream, but I think I had an out-of-body experience or something. You collapsed, and I must have been snapped back into my body. But I saw it all, and you were phenomenal.”

“So, you did die,” she whimpers, her bottom lip trembling.

“Almost,” I shrug. “But you brought me back to life. The mate bond—it kept me afloat for as long as you needed to use your powers.”

Donna’s eyes widen at the realization of the extent of our mate bond. “I’m glad you didn’t die. I would have killed you if you did.”

I can’t help the full-belly laugh that rips through my chest, through the dull ache where I’m still healing. “I would be dead already.”

“And then you’ll die twice.”

“Then I guess I’ll just make sure I stay alive,” I smirk, letting out a drawn-out breath. “I guess my father was wrong. Love doesn’t make a werewolf weak. It actually makes us stronger.”

Donna pauses, even stops breathing momentarily, and I gulp. I didn’t mean to blurt that out, but I did, and it’s not how I wanted this to go.

Donna deserves more than us sitting in a clinic room, and me half-dying and declaring my love for her. But staring into her eyes, I know she doesn’t care about the logistics.

“I love you, Donna Rivera.”

My admission is met with Donna blinking at me as if she’s dumbfounded. I use it as my cue to go on.

“I should have told you this sooner. A long time ago. I’m in love with you, Donna. Since the first day I met you, I was enchanted. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.”

Donna doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t have to. Not when she grabs my face and crushes her lips to mine. The kiss is enough of a response, and that’s all I need for now, especially when I don’t mean to pressure her into anything.

She doesn’t need to say it for me to know how she feels. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see that Donna loves me. I mean…she wouldn’t kiss me like this if she didn’t love me as much as I love her. And that’s why this kiss feels like the most passionate one we’ve ever shared, fueled by love.

Chapter 23 - Donna

The quiet after a battle is never truly quiet, and I can feel it in my bones even as I sit beside Nicholas, having recovered from the horrible, nightmarish fight.

Things can hardly be quiet and calm when magic still hums in the air like a distant echo, fading by the day, but still humming through our mere breaths. Not when the ground remembers the weight of bodies and the trembling fear that once shook it. We might be back in Wells, a long way from Montreal, but our minds remember last night as if it were etched into our muscle memory. And a part of me, some instinct curled deep in my chest, whispers that this is only the beginning.

None of us have had any visions, any clues, that might indicate the dark lord’s next move, but we all know it’s coming. It’s bound to come. He’s always one step ahead, it seems, and we need to be cautious.

Morning light spills across Nicholas’s living room in thin, pale ribbons of blooming gold. The boys pushed and spread the couches aside to make a makeshift war room again the moment Nicholas and I came back from the clinic. Maps and notebooks lie scattered between mugs of coffee and half-eaten granola bars on the coffee table, and everyone has seemingly lost their appetites. Everyone looks exhausted. None of us has slept more than a handful of hours ever since what happened, and we’re already throwing ourselves into more planning, more action.

We’re just huddled in Wells, everyone on high alert, trying to figure out what our next move might be. In some ways, I think the others are just trying to protect me, keeping a watchful eye on me since I was “awakened” last night.

Truthfully, I haven’t used my powers again, too frightened by my abilities.

Nicholas sits beside me, thigh pressed to mine, his hand warm over my knee. He keeps touching me as if reassuring himself that I’m here, alive, whole. Or maybe he's grounding himself in my warmth or to remind me that he’s still alive. I don’t think either of us has fully recovered from that night, from almost losing each other.

And I keep letting his touch ground me in the knowledge that neither of us is going anywhere. His declaration of love from the other day keeping me going, keeping my spirit alive.

Dominic clears his throat, dragging everyone’s attention to him. “Alright. We need to discuss what comes next.”

“What comes next,” Tyler mutters, “is we all collectively agree that the night we lived through was nightmare-level insane and we need a ten-year nap.”

A weak laugh runs through the room, but no one truly smiles. We’re all too cautious to let our guards down in any way.

“There are still three witches out there,” Delilah reminds us, her tone steady but strained as if she’s mentally reliving that vision she had of the four witches who poisoned Gwen. “Morganna was just one of them. One. And the dark lord must be seething and plotting against us by now.”

“He has more reason to come after us for revenge,” Gwen adds, shivering. “We took down one of his soldiers. He won’t let that go.”

A chill creeps down my spine, and I see Tobias’s face for the briefest moment—the flicker of blue in his eyes, the apology, the sacrifice—and I swallow hard.

Sean speaks next, arms crossed as he glances at Emily across the room. “We need allies. Real ones. Not just werewolf packs, but everyone who fought in the last war or has any ties to it.”