The Alpha’s Heart (Stolen Mates #3)

8. Declan

CHAPTER 8

DECLAN

F eeling giddy, a little girlish, and buzzing with anticipation for later tonight, I pluck a fallen leaf from my hair as I slip into our bedroom.

Bishop needed a way to work off his wolf’s pent-up aggression and hunger for me. While both his human half and his beast understand that we’ll be mated and bonded tonight, I think the weeks-long wait has finally got to my intended.

So while the gammas prepped the decorations for our public vow to each other, and the pack cooks prepared a feast for the ages—which will definitely include fresh beignets for dessert—Bishop and I went on a run that quickly turned into a chase. I let my Alpha mate track me down, the two of our beasts tussling in the woods, before he pinned me beneath him and bathed my face with his tongue.

Shifters don’t mate in their fur. Some twisted ferals might try, but when you’re in control of both of your halves, our beasts may frolic and get covered in leaves, but the only place his tongue goes is near my face. Of course, after I escaped him, shaking my ass at him before taking off again… all I kept thinking about was the places his tongue might go later tonight.

It was so tempting to shift to my human skin and just say ‘fuck it’ and, well, fuck . Bishop is so close to the end of his chain that I doubt it would take little more than a come hither look to get him to finally pounce on me after all. Only knowing all the work the pack has gone to, both to celebrate their Alpha finding his mate and to formally welcome me into the pack, kept me on my best behavior.

Bishop, too. The two of us ran until we were back in the heart of pack land, heading toward the Alpha cabin together. Only then did we shift back to our skin, though to keep us both from succumbing to temptation, Bishop dragged a spare change of clothes into the living area while I’m freshening up in the bedroom.

Even after I pulled on a new change of clothes, I’m still finding a stray leaf or two in my hair. It probably would’ve been better if I showered, but after rolling around with Bishop, I like how much I smell like his innate clove scent. I don’t want it to ever leave my skin, and until I have his bite on me and his scent imbedded into every inch of me, a shower can wait.

Bishop feels the same. He quickly got dressed, then told me that he had to run out on a pack errand. Even though I don’t have the same gift he does when it comes to spotting a lie, I can tell he’s not being entirely truthful.

But since Helene spilled the beans at breakfast this morning that Bishop was taking a quick run out of Hickory to pick up a mating present for me… that he was insistent that he go on his own while Harris and West held down the fort… I let it slide.

The Luna Ceremony is scheduled for sunset. Wherever exactly he’s going, I know he’ll be back long before then. Trust me. I’m becoming a lot more familiar with my new packmates, and if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s not to disrespect the gammas.

We still have a few hours until then. And since those very same gammas made it very clear that I’m not allowed to see their set-up until it’s time for the ceremony, I can’t really distract myself by walking around Hickory. Bishop didn’t quite tell me to stay inside, either, though my intended suggested that it might be a good idea.

Of course. My overprotective Alpha… this is the first time he’s left pack territory with me on it. I can only imagine what dark scenarios are running through his head. Even while we’re running together earlier, he stopped a couple of times to mark his territory along the border, just in case. He won’t take any chances that something will happen to me before we’re bonded.

The only exception would be if I chose to leave him before our mating became irreversible, but since I’ve done everything I can to make sure he understands that, he has nothing to worry about.

And I cling to that naive thought for as long as it takes for me to fish my phone out of the drawer where I keep it constantly charged.

I don’t carry it with me. Bishop knows I have it, and he gave his solemn vow that he wouldn’t snoop. That it’s my phone, and my chance to make a decision that—to him—was never really one. He’s one hundred percent in on the two of us spending the rest of our supernaturally-long lives together. Barring a challenger that might manage to end Bishop’s existence, we should have plenty of decades ahead of us.

That’s one thing I can say. As long as Bishop has any breath in his body or fight in his wolf, I will always, always be safe.

Later, I’ll admit that’s why I did what I did. When I peered at my phone and saw that I had forty-four missed calls since I looked at it last, plus too many text messages to count, I didn’t think to myself that I would wait for Bishop to return.

I couldn’t. Not when I would do anything to keep Bishop from having to deal with this.

This is my problem. That much is clear. With every missed call coming from a number I recognize as Guy’s except for a few from Declan’s and a couple coming up as ‘unknown’, there’s no doubt in my mind that something must have happened. I didn’t block him because I thought that, if I kept ignoring him, he’d understand that I wouldn’t respond. Was that a mistake?

Considering the texts are from Declan, it just might be.

Declan

Sofia?

Are you there?

Okay. Listen to me. Have you heard from Guy?

He disappeared. Took a pack truck yesterday night. Kendall and Carver think he’s heading your way.

You have to let your Alpha know.

He’s gonna challenge u

Challenge HIM

HellO/

It’s been twelve hours. No one’s heard from him

Call me back

Sofe, call me back

Anything from Guy yet?

Please tell me you have. You’re the only one who can stop this. He’ll listen to you.

Anything??

The messages started yesterday morning. The most recent one was from four hours ago.

Guy? Why would I have heard from Guy? What the hell is going on?

I suck in a breath.

Luna, don’t be what I think it is…

With trembling fingers, I select Declan’s number, pacing nervously around the room as it dials, praying to the goddess above that he answers.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri—

“Sofe? Sofia? Is that you?”

My voice is thick with a mixture of renewed anxiety and relief that Declan’s on the line. “Yeah. It’s me. I got your messages. What’s going on?”

Instead of answering me—probably because he did give me a rundown with those messages—Declan says, “What about Guy? Did he send you any texts? Have you heard from him?”

“No. A crap ton of calls, but no voicemails. No texts. Declan… is he really coming here?”

Please say no, please say no?—

“He might already be there. I’m trying like hell to beat him to Hickory. Like I said, he’s got a truck, but I flew. It’s up to the Luna which one of us gets there first.”

What? “What are you talking about? You’re coming, too?”

Wind rushes past Declan. Is he driving? Running? I can’t tell. “Sure am. I’m on my way. Kendall approved letting me take a flight out when he realized that Guy took one of the pack trucks to drive out to Louisiana. That was two days ago. It’s a twenty-hour drive with no stops for food or sleep. If he ditches the truck and runs, he could be there even faster. There’s no way to tell. I’m pretty sure he ditched his phone hours ago.”

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I look at the call history. Declan’s right. The last call I got from Guy’s phone was from this morning.

And, yet, all signs point to him still heading toward me.

I know what Declan’s saying even without him saying it. Guy is on a time crunch. He has until the Luna rises tonight and I bond myself to Bishop to get his one last chance to change my mind.

And he’s going to challenge Bishop for me if he doesn’t.

He has to. Alphas can’t challenge a weaker wolf. It’s an unsaid rule for all shifters. If you’re responsible for a pack, you can’t risk the safety of all of its members by randomly throwing down challengers and taking out competitors. An alpha wolf—a dominant shifter who doesn’t lead a pack—can challenge whoever they want, of course. Same with betas and deltas. But an Alpha… the lesser ranked wolf would always have to issue the challenge in some way.

And, true, it’s easy to challenge an Alpha. Crossing into his territory without permission. Making prolonged eye contact. The wrong tone of voice. The wrong quirk of an eyebrow. Stepping too close to his mate… Bishop could take any slight and accept the challenge.

Why would Guy risk it? That’s the part that makes no sense. He can’t beat Bishop. He’s never even met my mate, but it wouldn’t matter. He’s an Alpha with his mate on the line. It would be suicide.

I have to get him to stop. Declan’s right. I’m the only one Guy will listen to. Without his phone, I can’t call him. I’ll have to talk to him in person. That might be better. One sniff of Bishop’s clove scent all over me will tell him everything he needs to know.

That I belong to the Alpha, and Guy needs to head on back to River Run before Bishop ever finds out he was here.

I don’t trust Guy right now. I know desperation can make even the sanest shifters break and go feral. Is that what happened to him? I don’t know. A feral is ruled by lust and greed. They take what they want. Reason doesn’t exist for a feral.

Neither do consequences.

If he makes it to Hickory, he won’t respect the invisible border that warns non-packmates from stepping onto pack land. The second he tests the pack’s defenses, he’s fucked.

No. He’s dead .

I put the phone back to my ear. “If you make it here first, can you keep him from crossing into Hickory?”

If Guy boldly walks onto Sylvan Pack land, he’s a dead wolf. It doesn’t matter that Bishop isn’t here. It’s worse that he would take advantage of my mate taking a rare trip out of Hickory.

“That’s what I’m planning on. Guy’s still one of us. If I can stop him, I will. And you’ll come talk him down?”

I have no choice. If I stay in the cabin, hiding behind my cowardly wolf, Guy’s blood will be on my hands. But that’s the thing about maternal deltas. We’re not weak. We just don’t fight back without claws and fangs until someone under our protection is threatened.

And, Luna damn it, I have to make sure Bishop doesn’t kill Guy. Not even for my former packmate’s sake. Not really. It’s more because, after getting to know Bishop, if he is forced to defend his pack and kill someone from River Run, he’ll never forgive himself.

He’ll have cause. Even Kendall would understand that. But Bishop… we’ll be right back at square one where he believes that I’ll always, subconsciously, be afraid of him.

“I will. And Declan? Thank you. You didn’t have to do this… but thank you. You’re the best.”

“Just remember that, Sofe,” he says, no hint of his normal teasing laugh in his tone. To knock that out of Declan Slate… he must be as worried now as I suddenly am. “See you in, what, fifteen?”

So long as none of my packmates catch me sneaking toward the edge of Hickory and think I’m getting cold paws all of sudden about bonding myself to Bishop tonight…

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

One of the best things about being the Alpha’s intended? Very few of the other shifters will approach me when I’m not with Bishop. They’re afraid of offending him or inadvertently setting off his protective instincts. Our mating dance is winding down. Once I wear his bite, things will be settled.

I’m careful to skirt the edge of pack territory so that none of the gammas in charge of preparing for our Luna Ceremony see me. I won’t be gone long. Either I confront Guy and end this silly infatuation the delta has with me for once and for all, or I have to trust that Declan can intercept him before Guy does something he’ll regret.

A twenty-hour drive and he left nearly two days ago. I know he’s not in Hickory yet—even without Bishop here, the other dominant wolves would know that an outsider broke past our boundaries—but he’s gotta be close. I could run faster myself if I shifted to my wolf, but considering the reason why Guy decided to follow me to Louisiana, it’s better if I don’t ruin the only clothes I have on. Coming back in my skin to talk to him? Not a good idea.

Still, I’m a she-wolf. I run much faster than any other humans and supes in my skin, and once I’m sure I managed to escape most of the gathered crowds of packmates, working on tonight, I pour on the speed.

My stomach flip-flops when I catch the scent of lemon floating to me on the breeze. I’m approaching the edge of pack territory, and though this is a different spot where Declan and Guy traded me off to Harris and West, it must be where Declan wants to meet me.

I turn, heading toward the sour lemon scent.

Where is the anise?

If Guy is here, no way I wouldn’t smell his licorice scent. Did Declan manage to beat him here? Did Guy change his mind? Maybe a burst of sanity broke through and he turned around, heading back to River Run.

I have to check. At the very least, I have Declan my word that I would meet him at the edge of his pack territory to try and talk down Guy. If I don’t, my best friend might get worried that something happened to me. As my text replies back to him took longer and longer these last few weeks, Declan wondered if Bishop was keeping me from contacting my old pack.

He wasn’t. I told Declan that. Bishop encouraged me to keep old relationships, as long as I promised that my loyalty was to him and the Sylvan Pack first. With everyone in River Run, a thousand miles away, he wasn’t worried about one of them turning me against him.

They can’t. I’m loyal to Bishop, and because I want my happily-ever-after with my grumpy Prince Charming after all, I have to clean up this mess before Bishop comes back.

The first thing I notice is the pack truck parked on a small dirt path, tucked among the hickory trees. It’s not a Sylan Pack truck; the name of the fictitious company on the side, plus the number with a familiar area code on it belongs to River Run. That makes sense, since Declan said Guy stole one of my former pack’s trucks to make his escape, but I see the truck.

I don’t see Guy.

For a second, I hesitate on the Hickory side of the border. Hoping that Bishop’s can’t sense me moving off of pack land, I take a deep breath and push past the invisible border, wincing at the way it shocks my skin. It takes a heartbeat to shake it off, and when it does, I dash toward the truck.

Lemon. I still only smell lemon.

Off the my side, a pile of dried leaves crunch under a heavy footfall. I whirl, expecting it to be Guy—but it isn’t.

It’s Declan.

I gesture at the truck. “I found this. But where is he? Where’s Guy?”

Declan’s standing in the shadow of the nearest hickory tree. “I don’t know. I lost him.”

Lost him? Oh, Declan. My poor friend. Even after I left River Run, he was trying to protect me from Guy’s attentions. Now he’s clearly blaming himself for Guy not only making it across the country, but for the other delta male getting so close as to park his truck and… what? Disappear?

None of this makes sense!

Frustrated and wishing that Bishop was here even though that would be a disaster in the making, I slap the roof of the truck. It’s still warm which tells me he hadn’t been gone long… but why don’t I smell anise?

Could it be quicksilver? Mercury in all of its forms is dangerous to a shifter; the only thing worse is pure silver. What about wolfsbane? If he rolled in the leaf, he could conceal his scent for a time. Is Guy smart enough to do that, though?

I don’t get it. This is all wrong.

Looking at Declan, hating that this is all my fault, I ask the one question that I didn’t get the chance to ask him while we were on the phone.

“He’s obviously here somewhere. This could ruin the relationships between both our packs. What is he thinking?”

Declan shrugs. “Maybe he doesn’t care about all the pack politics bullshit. Maybe he saw his chance at the female he’s always loved slipping through his claws and came up with a plan… a desperate plan… to make sure that didn’t happen.”

I scoff. “Guy doesn’t love me. He loves the idea of me.”

“Like your Alpha.” Declan sniffs. “You smell like cloves, Sofe.”

Of course I do. I smell like Bishop.

“I still don’t understand. Why didn’t Kendall tell Bishop that Guy’s lost his freaking mind. I’m not part of River Run anymore. I’m a member of the Sylvan Pack. Bishop’s responsible for me now.”

Declan steps out from the shadows. His pale gold eyes darken to a shade much closer to orange. “He’s not.”

What? “Of course he is. He’s my mate?—”

It all happens so suddenly. Elongated fangs jut from my friend’s mouth, digging into the flesh below his bottom lip. A splash of blood wells up from the sudden points and he snaps again, “He’s not. I am.”

His lemon scent grows bitter, like someone’s tossed it on the grill and left it on long enough for it to char.

One look. That’s all it takes. One look at the crazed look in Declan’s eyes and I know that—whatever happened to Guy Holsom—I was wrong.

Guy didn’t go feral.

Declan did.

His bones crunch. His back hunches. Patches of fur appear on his hands, his cheeks, part of his arm. And his claws… they’re longer than even my wolf’s, part of a mangled hand that is closer to a paw.

“I am your mate,” he repeats, an echo in his voice that has my stomach roiling with how wrong it is. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. And, damn it, Sofia, it’s time you stopped fucking pretending that you don’t know that.”

Maybe he saw his chance at the female he’s always loved slipping through his claws and came up with a plan… a desperate plan… to make sure that didn’t happen.

I— what ?

“But your human female,” I say, taking one careful step away from him.

“There was never a human female!” Declan roars. “Only you. Only me. And you never fucking saw me there!”

Screw this. I don’t know what happened to Guy. I don’t even know if he really came this way or if Declan lied. All those phone calls… maybe he knew. Knew that I would be happy with my fated mate, knew that Declan was deranged enough to drop his ‘friendly’ facade to do what nearly ever other male I’ve ever known has: try to claim me for his own even when I don’t want to.

No.

No .

I want Bishop.

But he’s not here, and my naive self is standing on neutral territory with a feral who is lowering himself into a crouching position.

Forget going slow. Spinning on my heel, I bolt for the safety of pack territory.

I’m too late. As Declan launches himself at me, using his misshapen body to knock me down, and his claws hooked in my ankle to drag me to him, I’m caught.

I struggle. Just because I’m a delta she-wolf, that doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and let this feral take me. I kick and I bite and I fight with everything I have… but when Declan smashes the back of my head against the hard earth, it wasn’t enough.