The Alpha's Last Choice.

a's

plaster of my bedroom. Panic flutters in my chest as I sit up, taking i

furniture, Persian rugs, a fireplace that could fit a small car. Everything is expensive,

memories

, so much blood. And Kael... God, Kael transforming into something that sh

re aw

nce the alley... no blood or torn clothes. Just dark jeans and a gray sweater that does nothing to hide the p

out hoarse, and I realize my

chair, but I feel the weight of his attenti

de of what I now realize is a massive four-post

answer. Just studies my face l

"And I'm what you might call a werewolf,

p or run screaming. Instead, they settle into place like missing puzzle

ves in the

s. "They were hunting you because of me. Beca

onsciously, remembering what the

y, pacing to the fireplace. "It marked y

hrough my belly, which is completely

derstand an

ere's something desperate in his silver eyes. "You need to lea

th its intensity. "After everything that's happe

es

me stand up, facing him across the r

ce lacks conviction. "This world will destr

wh

ce. "To women who thought

slap. "Is that what you

t while you watched." He steps closer, and I can see the self-loa

aved m

anger by touching you

body. The bond between us hums like a live wire, making it hard to think ab

't care abou

"You don't know wh

h. "You feel it too. This pull between us. It'

name sounds

I touched him in the clinic, where the bond first flared to life. His sharp intake

er. "You don't feel anything when I to

moment, I think he'll do it, he'll lie and push me away

hunger. The kiss is nothing like the gentle romance novels promised, it's

eartbeat as if it's my own, taste his desire on my tongue. This is more than physical attra

athes against my lips, b

his sweater, needing to feel sk

ul control crumbles completely, and mine goes with it. We move together

both of us, creating a feedback loop of pleasure that builds until I'm sure I'll shatter from the i

derstand finally what it means to be his. Not owned, but comple

ll like him, I trace patterns on his chest

isper. "Is it al

me. "I don't know. It'

do you

ng me." His voice carries centuries of loneliness. "The fir

t him. "Then why do you

t and should are different things. Beca

willing to pa

know what

e steady rhythm of his heart, I know one thing for certain, I'm already lost to him. Th

nd heartbeat, and for the first time s

l, I'm exactly wher