6. Graeme #4
“Wrong with you?” I questioned, noting again the scrape on the side of his throat where my mark should have been.
It was gnawing at me, looking at it, seeing the abraded skin, but instead of grabbing him and holding him down and claiming him right then and there, overpowering him as I knew I could, I turned from my raw animal instinct to my thoughtful humanity and reached a hand toward him.
Taking the last step into my personal space, he pressed his cheek into my palm, and when my thumb slid across his skin, his eyes fluttered closed.
“I can’t…focus,” he murmured, pushing forward, bumping his head on my chest, hands hanging limp at his sides. “And I lost it in the car on the way over here.”
“What do you want me to say?” I put both hands on the sides of his neck, holding him gently, savoring the feel of his skin, the brush of his hair, and his intoxicating scent, smoke and newly turned soil. “Shall I tell you I’m sorry, when I’m not?”
He gave a clipped whine, breathing slowly, working, I knew, to remain calm.
“Every alpha dreams of finding their mate, their true mate, and I’m certainly no exception,” I confessed, stroking both his cheeks, even that small amount of contact comforting me.
Touching him, feeling the rightness of the action, was grounding and illuminating.
Because yes, I wanted him, there was no question, but I knew, even in this short time, seeing and hearing and touching him, that he wanted me too.
Amazing how much tension and anxiety drained from me in a flood of relief, like a great knot had been untied deep in my heart.
I wasn’t alone; he felt the pull every bit as keenly as I did.
“You’re a gift,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. ”
“But I have things to do here, and…I was thinking about you in the car, and I don’t—what’s going on? Do you know?”
“You’re not listening,” I crooned, feeling a terribly uncharacteristic flutter in my gut over the news that he’d been thinking about me.
I would be laid low, reduced to a quivering simpleton who lived and died by how much or little their mate esteemed them, and somehow, I couldn’t be made to care. “Try to pay attention.”
His head lifted and his eyes snapped open, and I was hit with his silvery gaze, the indignation clear as day. “What’d you just say to––”
It was impossible not to smile. “You’re my mate,” I reminded him, and noted that even as affronted as his expression suggested he was, he didn’t move an inch away from me. He would argue, yes, but not break contact. “Or had you forgotten?”
“Yeah, but”––he shook his head as though whatever he was thinking couldn’t have possibly been real or right or true––“I’m an omega, and we don’t mate like everybody else.”
“You’re wrong,” I assured him, sliding my thumb across his cheek again before slipping it under his chin and lifting until those glorious eyes were gazing up at me in absolute wonder. “Some omegas, just like some betas and gammas, find the alpha that’s meant to belong only to them.”
He shook his head. “Alphas don’t mate with omegas; it can only be a––”
“Listen to me,” I urged, releasing my pheromones, soothing him, giving him comfort so he could shore up the cracks in the wall between the two parts of himself, man and wolf.
I never wanted to weaken him or cause him to doubt himself.
That wasn’t my place. Ever. I was there to lean on, to offer my strength when he came undone and lacked his own.
“You’re my mate, and I know that beyond all reason.
I know it down deep, in muscle and bone where my wolf lives. ”
His eyes filled then, and his jaw was clenched, his hands fisted, and he trembled violently.
“Please,” I murmured, bending close, speaking into his ear, “trust me, Avery Rhine. I belong to you. I’m yours. You called me your alpha, but what you didn’t realize at the time is that I truly am.”
He began panting softly as he stared up at me, and I watched his gaze transform from pain and uncertainty, widening and then slowly narrowing down to silvery slits of moonlight.
It was ravenous, that look, and I wanted, more than anything, for him to feast on me, and only me, for the rest of my life.
When he parted his lips, gazing at me like he was drunk, the longing there for anyone to see, I couldn’t resist. I bent and took his mouth, and was immediately rewarded with his whimpering moan of pleasure as he tangled his tongue with mine, staking his claim, kissing me boldly, hungrily, with blatant possessiveness.
He held nothing back, allowing me to feel his desire for all I had to offer, secrets he admitted to no one, even himself, that he craved a mate and a home.
And I knew, because I could taste the need in him, and the fear at the same time.
He’d been led to believe that having a mate equaled limits, and while it did, and the desire to cage him and keep him safe was overwhelming, I would never take his freedom from him, because it would change who he was now––the strong, virile man that drew me like a moth to a flame.
My hands were all over him, and the mauling kisses grew harder and deeper, verging on savage. When I tasted blood on my tongue, I broke the kiss, panting hard. “That’s enough,” I husked, seconds away from putting my mark on him, wrenching him away from me and holding him out at arm’s length.
His lips were swollen, as they’d been earlier in the night, his eyes glassy and heavy-lidded, and his hair was tousled, falling into them. “I thought you were mine,” he whispered.
“Make no mistake, I am, but I refuse to have you any place but my bed when I give you my mark.”
He stepped back, out of my hands, and walked to the glass doors that led out onto a small balcony, turning his back on me. I watched him stand there, shivering, and wanted to comfort him even though I knew better. This time, he had to find the strength within himself rather than drawing it from me.
In that moment, I understood that his mother was right.
He was not the kind of omega who lost all sense of self and would, while in heat, rut with anyone who came along.
He would not lie down in the middle of the floor, naked, head down, ass raised, presenting himself as a vessel for anyone to fill, as I’d seen others do, both men and women, at private invitation-only affairs I’d attended.
My mate, my omega , was having difficulty focusing his thoughts, and his control was shaky because he was unmarked.
That was all. That was the extent of the “heat” that I’d seen others completely abandon themselves to.
He wanted me, and only me, desperately, but could and would wait for the claiming, because his needs took a back seat at the moment to a murder investigation.
I was in awe of his control.
When he turned, his rough, erratic breathing was level, his eyes were clear, he was steady on his feet, and there was even a ghost of a smile for me.
My heart swelled with pride just looking at him.
“Tell me, do you know how your cousin and Mr. Highmore knew each other?”
I shook my head. “I don’t, no.”
“Had Remy made any offers for omegas?” he asked, pulling a notebook from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Not that I know of, and he would have had to notify me.”
“Okay—” He took a breath. “—so you’re going to go with him to the hospital. I’m going to be here for a bit longer, and then––”
“After I get him settled at the hospital, would you meet me at my home?”
He shook his head. “It’s not a good idea. While we’re in the middle of this investigation, we should probably keep our distance.”
“You don’t understand; that’s not possible.”
“Graeme, I––”
“Your signed contract is in my car.”
His brows furrowed as he stared at me. “I’m sorry?”
“Your contract has been signed, and it’s in my car.”
“But why…why would you do that?”
“What do you mean why ?”
“I mean , why would you without talking to me?”
“Avery––”
“And why in the world would my––” His eyes widened as he caught his breath. “What did you say to my father? Did you tell him we––”
“They didn’t want to listen, and your brother––”
“Did you hurt my brother?” he yelled, fear and anger mixing in his voice.
“No, I didn’t hurt your brother,” I rasped, furious that what I wanted and needed was veering further and further off course with every passing second. “I might have grabbed him, but I didn’t hurt––”
“You signed my contract ?” he shouted at me, unable, it seemed, to come to terms with that part.
I couldn’t decide whether he was horrified or indignant or gobsmacked.
He wasn’t making himself clear, and the yell was open to interpretation.
“How could you do that without discussing it with me first?”
“You left me!” I roared back. “How dare you leave me!”
“And that gives you the right to take my choices away and question my freedom and––”
“I didn’t take any of your precious freedoms away,” I retorted vehemently, the anger searing through my voice. “I signed that contract as-is, without a single modification.”
He jerked back in surprise, staring at me with wide eyes, utterly stunned.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” I reproached him, nearly snarling.
The smile I got almost put me on my knees.
I thought the argument, the back-and-forth, would escalate, grow until we were at each other’s throats, putting a chasm between us that, at least for the moment, would place him beyond my reach, but he surprised the hell out of me.
Instead of reacting to me like everyone else in my life, he listened.
He stopped, weighed everything, put himself—I could only imagine—in my shoes, and then…
smiled. And what a smile it was. I could see the gratitude in his hooded quicksilver gaze.
“No, my alpha,” he replied hoarsely, “I didn’t expect you not to try and change me. But I should have known better. You’re my mate after all, so of course you knew, didn’t you?”
I had needed to leave with the document. I didn’t want to take the contract to study, to prepare arguments, and to come to terms. I couldn’t have left his parents’ home without having that signed agreement in my possession. It was frankly impossible.
“Thank you,” he husked, his gaze brimming with gratitude.
I was going to command him to come to me, but he rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around me, his sigh of contentment so sweet that my mind went blank.
I might have recovered enough to speak to him, to say something, anything, but Detective Massey opened the door, and Avery stepped back as his partner led the EMTs into the room.
There was no time to say anything more, as I was left answering questions while my mate cast me a longing look before he was gone.
I didn’t see him again before I climbed into the back of the ambulance.
It was strange, leaving him, as I’d been frantic to find him, terrified over the heat that I was certain he was dealing with.
Now, after spending even a short time with him, I realized my fears had been alleviated, having seen his innate strength for myself.
I wanted him home with me, yes, but I wasn’t afraid of him losing control or having another incident like the one he told me about.
He knew he belonged to me and, more importantly, knew now that he was my true mate, and I was his.
I was shored up mentally, emotionally, and him physically, with a single quick meeting.
I could only imagine how much good we could do one another when we lived together.