Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Alpha’s Pregnant Bride Chapter 7

Troy

My evening routine was hardly disturbed by Skye's moving in. After Wendell and Elias helped arrange her furniture to match my setup, I had perused her belongings sitting in the boxes in the spare room. She had insisted on sleeping in the guest suite, citing the fact that neither her brother, her alpha, nor myself would influence her decisions or convince her to do things she didn't want to do.

All while she unpacked her clothes and inspected my room, of course.

Skye was confusing at times and intriguing at others. Occasionally, she set me off. Yet she provided a sense of relief that I only felt when she was near. Truly, my own mind had been making me dizzy with plenty of plans and odd suggestions. Woo her, lure her in, keep her.

Deny her, reject her, force her away.

Which did I want? Which would lead to happiness?

This happened in a matter of seconds in the living room as I stood near the glass sliding door, staring out into the inky shadows lurking in the distance. Streetlamps weren't welcome here. The subtle glow of sun-charged lanterns was preferred. It was softer, and retained a country charm that appealed to me.

The latch on the door clicked. That meant Skye was home and there was no time to waste pondering my desires. My duty was to my pack, and that alone would direct my choices. While Skye was in denial about her allegiance, I had no doubts of mine. Blake would have me mated with Skye, and my pack would have their leader committed instead of confused.

If only I could sort my heart out to do the same.

Skye walked inside, dropped her bag off at the door, and collapsed into the loveseat near the television. She rubbed her forehead while shoving her feet underneath her. The position appeared less comfortable than any seated position I had seen her take. She was stressed.

I glanced at the clock. Well, it was no wonder she was upset-it was well after eleven and she hadn't eaten dinner before she left for class. Unless she had grabbed something on campus, she was likely starving. I wandered into the kitchen to reheat a plate of steak and potatoes I had set aside for her.

"Long night," I called over my shoulder. "That means a stiff drink. What would you like?"

"Vodka."

Arousal came swiftly and made it hard to concentrate. She didn't miss a beat with her response, because she knew what she wanted. Somehow, that translated to an alluring quality. She didn't want me. She didn't want to live here. So why did her decisiveness in this present moment turn me on?

After I prepared a vodka cranberry, I took the plate and drink to her in the living room. Her nostrils flared. She perked up and accepted the food, eagerly digging in. I set the drink on the end table next to her. Without hesitation, she gulped down half and returned to her food.

I chuckled internally. I love a woman who loves food.

Minutes passed, her contented sighs filling the air. Were those the same sounds she made in bed? I could only imagine. My animalistic side urged me to make a move, to drop a pickup line, to directly address that part of our arranged pairing. We were both wolves. We needed physical touch-that included the s****l kind. It was only a matter of time until it came up.

Yet I couldn't muster the words. Not for shyness. But for something else.

The scent of another wolf mingled in the air. I shot to my feet, realizing as it was happening how absurd it was for me to react rashly, bolting to the bathroom before I could say anything that might make me look immature or inconsiderate. I steadied myself by leaning against the sink and stared at my reflection.

Calm down, I urged. She was in a class with other people. There's bound to be shifters in there too.

It wasn't like me to get upset, especially not this fast, especially not because of another wolf. What good was it to covet? Skye belonged to me by word, and she had chosen to stick around even if she'd made it clear how undesirable the situation was for her. If she was fooling around with another wolf, I would have seen the signs of it early on.

If there had been anyone else, she wouldn't have appealed to me at all.

I had to think rationally. I had to approach her as I would any of my pack members.

I had to approach her like I was an alpha.

Even now as I soothed myself, as I talked myself down from a razor-sharp edge, I doubted my ability to handle a mate. This was why I deferred to Blake. Absorbing into his pack meant I didn't have to lead or manage mine. Responsibilities like this were better handled by experienced, well-grounded people.

I wasn't well-grounded. I wasn't even healed.

How could anyone like Skye be with me when I couldn't handle a simple emotional reaction?

I straightened up and fixed my shirt, rubbing my hand over my chest repeatedly. Fuck it. I'll just ask her straight away about it. We shouldn't beat around the bush about anything.

When I opened the bathroom door, I heard the kitchen faucet running. I returned to find Skye scrubbing her plate and empty glass. She set them in the drying rack, dried the counter, and draped the cloth over the edge of the sink. Seeing her cleanliness eased my discomfort.

That would make it easier to talk.

"You smell like another wolf," I pointed out gently. "Who is he?"

She seemed surprised for a second, and then she huffed while wearing a grin. "Nothing gets past your nose."

Paranoia slithered into my bones. "Skye..."

She waved away my worries. "He's an old friend. A wolf-" She shrugged. "Actually, he's my ex-boyfriend. He came back after..." She shook her head. "Well, he's just back. I don't know why he's back, but he is. I can't believe it either."

I gaped at her.

"Ex-boyfriend," I repeated slowly. "Is he bothering you, Skye? Do you want me to handle him?"

She laughed nervously. "You sound like a mafia boss."

"I can easily intimidate him if he's irritating you."

Suspicion crept into her expression along with a hint of something I couldn't quite make out. "Are you serious? You'd do that for me?"

"I would do just about anything for you. You're my mate."

"Don't sound so confident."

It irked me the way she said that. "Why wouldn't I be confident? You're my match, and I'm supposed to mark you as my mate. I might as well sound confident about it." "You don't have to make anyone do anything."

"I'm not making you do it. I just meant-" I sighed, reining my anger in before it could dart away from me. "I'm sorry, dear Skye. It's late. We should both get to bed." "But I-"

I held up my right hand, silencing her. "We're tired. I'm reacting instead of responding. I'd rather not cause harm if there's no reason for it to be caused." "You're not causing harm by being jealous."

"Me?" I practically laughed the word out. I couldn't believe her insinuation. "No, dear. I don't get jealous."

She folded her arms over her chest loosely. Usually, it was a frigid movement. This one felt more playful than the last several times I'd seen her do it. Damn that smug energy brimming around her. She was up to something. "Are you sure about that?" "It's rare for me to covet anything. You don't even belong to him. You belong to me."

"So confident."

I folded my hands behind my back and circled her. She followed me with her eyes, that smirk curving her lips in a delicious way that tapped into my hunger for flesh-for her flesh. "Are you challenging me, dear Skye?"

"I take it you don't like being challenged."

"I wouldn't say that. I appreciate my pack approaching me with irregularities."

She giggled. "Count this one as an irregularity, if you will. Jealousy happens to us all when we least expect it. You're not immune just because you're an alpha."

"I'm your alpha. I expect to be treated as such."

"You're not my alpha just because you say so."

I studied the way her eyes darted up and down my body. She was looking at every bit of my body in ways that made me think twice about her lashing tongue. Even now as she stood her ground and seemed to be acting defiantly, she appeared to be flirting, challenging my dominance to get a reaction out of me.

It was a game I had enjoyed with many women in the past. Skye would be no different. Perhaps this was her way of initiating a physical relationship.

However much it seemed that way, I wasn't about to make any assumptions.

"Say the word, dear Skye," I whispered gruffly, "and I'll take exactly what I want from you."

Her façade fell instantly. While her arms drooped to her sides and her mouth dropped open, her eyelids fluttered and she slumped against the sink. Her knees were giving out. Was it because of what I'd just asked her or was she that exhausted?

"That depends on what you want," she claimed, trying to recover her position. It was cute how she thought she was going to win. "Because if you want me to be yours, then tough luck. But I can arrange other things."

I drew as close as I dared without making a move. "It's adorable how wrong you are about that."

"How...how can I be...?" But she couldn't finish her sentence.

I didn't even have to kiss her to silence her. I just had to look deep into her eyes.

That was the ticket with her, wasn't it? Depth, genuine care-she crumbled under the weight of true emotion.

Much like me.

"You already belong to me," I whispered. The words came unbidden from a part of my soul I hadn't known about until this moment. "To make you mine would merely be a physical manifestation of what's already true." "Impossible."

Yet she didn't seem convinced otherwise.

Despite my doubts and my assumptions, I couldn't deny the honesty of my tone. No one had ever belonged to me. To claim Skye meant to give in to the notion that Blake knew what he was doing when he had paired us together. While I didn't deny his knowledge of his pack, I had my hang-ups about him knowing me in particular.

Yet here I was claiming her verbally, stating that our spirits were fused without us consciously choosing. How did I know?

The real question was how did I not know?

What little we had interacted had driven me to realize that Skye was yanking me into her world-and I was doing the same with her. Thirst took control, a compulsive need to touch her drifting after. My fingertips grazed her skin, circled her neck, thumb following after the other digits to trace her jaw.

Her head tilted back. Her throat revealed a flush of goosebumps.

She wanted me.

This wasn't like the stables. Unmatched was the feeling that grew between us, an ache that became painful the longer I ignored it. L**t called for me as if I had been ignoring her for a thousand years. Yet none of that made sense-I had a healthy schedule just like anybody else in my position. I was sure Skye hooked up in her spare time as well.

Maybe it's the exhaustion, I tried to reason. She's had a drink. I've been neglecting my masturbation schedule...

My lips curved against hers, as light as a feather floating from a tree branch. The way her lips pursed toward me and the subtle arch of her hips into mine inspired my eyes to close. Nothing else could be done except enjoy the rapture exploding between our mouths. Subtle waves coasted my cheek-she was breathing raggedly, struggling to contain herself.

Another desire snaked its way in, one I hadn't felt in years.

I wanted to bite her. I wanted to mark her. I wanted to make her mine...