Mate (Bride, #2)

by Ali Hazelwood

He easily resigned himself to a lifetime without her, but… Simply put, he is unwilling to contemplate a universe in which she no longer exists.

“Still, I don’t know that our lives necessarily needed a cult plotline.”

“But you should know that because you’re his mate, at the base of—” “Stop.” At the what of what? “I liked you better when you were a virgin.” “Yeah, well, Lowe didn’t. So.”

the platonic ideal of the concept of a scowl.

Koen presses his lips together, clearly worried, and my entire body hurts with how much I care for him. I would give a year of my life, a year I don’t even have, to press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

“You’re not going to—fuck it.”

“I think I’d have you bite me right under my jaw. People would glance at it and think that it’s obscene. But they’d immediately know who I belong to.”

And I think he likes it, too. He encourages me with low, filthy praises, telling me how beautiful I am, how perfect, what an honor it is for him to be here, with me, how he wouldn’t want it any other way, how he would do unspeakable things to have it again.

“Shit, you smell so good.” He sounds as shaken as I feel. “Fuck the covenant. I want to be so deep in your cunt, you’d be squirming to breathe—”

“I…Brenna, could we stop by the store?” “Sure. Why?” “I…” A tear slides down my cheek. I cover my smile with the palm of my hand. “I just realized that I’m going to need some sunscreen.”

“The truth is, if you decide to spend your Heat with someone else, they’ll have to chain me at the bottom of a well and seal its mouth with concrete.”

“I can—” “No, Serena. You can’t. But I can. I want you to tell me what you need, and I want the privilege of giving it to you. I want you to use me.”

“I can’t, Serena. If I touch you there, it’s over.” His kiss on my cheek is light. “There’s this voice in my head, screaming at me that I should hold you down and knot you and shred your gland until it’ll scar in the shape of my teeth, and I’m trying very hard to muffle it.”

“Serena.” I hear the blurry edge of his smile. A quiet sigh. “I would throw away my pack, my life, and my entire world for you. Which is the exact reason I cannot have you.”

This ain’t my first rodeo—and by rodeo, of course, I mean kidnapping.

“You already drugged me once. I’m just going to assume that everything you offer me is roofied, if that’s okay with you.”

Then I remember that I’ve been abducted and swear that if I make it out of this alive, I’ll go back to therapy and divest myself from my people-pleasing tendencies.

“Your father would have enjoyed you. This humor of yours, you get it from our side of the family.” “Actually, I get it from the need to proactively cope with a staggering amount of unprocessed trauma.

He is afraid—not only of what might happen to her, but also of what he might do to the world in retaliation.

“Out of curiosity, Alpha. How long have you known that you killed her mother?”

“If someone had given me a piece of paper and asked me to list everything I liked, everything I dreamed of, everything that I was sure would make me happy, you would have been the final product of it.”

“You…We talked about this.” I sound shrill. “The pack is too important to you. And you are necessary to the pack.” “Things have changed.” “Things—nothing has changed. You love the Northwest more than anything.” “Not more than anything, Serena.”

My eyes lock with his, willing him to understand. “You are the heart of this pack, Koen.” He nods. Even as he says, “And you are mine, Serena.”

“Just a few days ago you listed several reasons why you had to choose the pack over me. What changed?” He roams the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Waits out the end of a particularly strong gust of breeze. “You told me that you loved me, Serena,” he says simply. His eyes are earnest, liquid. So profoundly good. “And while I’m willing to resign myself to an existence without the person I love, I refuse to condemn you to it.”

“I don’t know,” he says, soft, barely audible. He stops. Restarts. A lock of hair falls on his forehead, dark against tanned skin. “I don’t think I can go on without you. Above all, I don’t think I can go on knowing that you need me, and I’m not by your side.”

“You are under my command. If I say that I want you here, you’ll fucking stay here. Your plan would put you in danger and out of my protection, and that’s unacceptable.” “Koen.” I smile. He leans forward. I should be scared. I’m just not. “I love you,” I say simply. His eyes close. “You are mine. My mate. My—” “More importantly, you love me. And that’s why you have no authority over me.”

“Shut it, Saul,” Koen grumbles. “She’s an adult Were and doesn’t need you fussing over her.” Saul’s eyebrow perks up. “Excuse me, Alpha. I must have misheard when you threatened to chain her to the radiator to prevent her from stubbing her toe.”

“She is my mate,” Koen snarls. “I get to treat her like she’s made of mother-of-pearl. You do not.”

feeling at the back of my throat. Watch Koen spin around and put some distance between us. But he stops. Takes a deep, shoulder-heaving breath. Turns again and marches back to me, taking my face in his palms and pressing our lips together.

“You pathetic asshole.” The Vampyre voice jostles him awake. He’s asleep beside Serena’s bed—has been for…He doesn’t care. “It’s kinda gross, how madly in love with her you are. But please, continue. Pitiful, twitterpated men are very entertaining.”

“Did she shoot me?” “Irene? Yup, but only in the arm. Leg? I don’t know. You were in wolf form.” “Where is she?” “Um, so. Koen was, um, mad.” “Ah.” “You have been de-aunted, I fear.”

“I think it’s a platonic crush. But also, when you were sixteen, you wanted to pork Mr. Lumiere in the mudroom.” “Did I?” I groan. Yeah, I did.

“I know!” She shoots up, too. “Can you believe that Juno won’t let me go suck their fucking pets dry in front of their fucking useless eyes?”

She sighs. “Serena?” “Mmm?” “Should we cut each other’s toenails and talk about the knot thing?” I think about how little I want to do it. How overdue we are. “Are there clippers in the bathroom?” She stands and goes to look for some.

“Serena, our first meeting sent you into Heat.”

“That your presence doesn’t influence my ability to do my job. But I think they’re wrong.” “Wrong?” He nods. “I think it does affect me. I think you make me a better leader.” His smile widens. “You make my world better, for sure. And mate or not, I wouldn’t love you half as much if you weren’t the kind of person who deserves it.”

She cooks, and that’s—he’s so fucking lucky. Especially because when she doesn’t feel like it, when he hunts small game for her and drops it by her feet, tail wagging and tongue lolling out expectantly, she also acts happy and satisfied and pleased with him. Alpha instinct doesn’t normally concern itself with external approval, but Serena…she feels like another part of him.

It’s just, you’re an Alpha. Maybe you like adventure?” To him, it feels like an adventure. This. Them. Waking up every morning wondering if he’ll survive the intensity of his feelings for her. Seems unlikely, and yet. He always makes it to the night. “I’m good,” he simply says.

It doesn’t help, that he doesn’t hear from her more often while he’s gone. He refuses to become the kind of person who sends little heart emoji texts every ten minutes, but by God, can’t Serena shoulder the burden of being the needy one? Can’t she blow up his fucking phone?

Once again, Lowe dares. “There are things he could do that would make it more bearable.” “And he isn’t doing them because…?” “Your guess is as good as mi—” Koen chucks his phone at Lowe and is proud of how squarely he hits his mouth.

He will bite her—the alternative is inconceivable—but first he’ll give her time. Space. A chance to settle.

But it feels like torture when he returns to her after three days (and three hours and twenty minutes) away.

“I missed you,” she says instead of yes, licking the gland under his jaw, and he doesn’t bother telling her that he missed her back, because it feels so fucking redundant when he’s trying to inhale her.

Because one moment she’s kissing and sucking his gland, and the next her teeth sink into the skin of his neck. The pleasure is as stupefying as it is annihilating. He doesn’t come in his pants, but it’s a close thing.

And then… Then she pulls away. She licks her lips, and he discovers that they are dark. With his goddamn blood. This time he does come a little bit.

She owns him. It’s official.

He hopes it’ll be a mess of thick, ropy lines that no one can pretend not to see. He’s hers. He always was, but now she has claimed him, and he’s going to rub it in everyone’s fucking face until they plead with him to stop, and even then, he will not. Instead, he’ll beg her for another one. On the wrist, maybe, so that he can look at it every second of every day. On both wrists. Why not? How many mating scars is too many? Frankly, whoever said that less is more was—

“Koen? Are you okay with me having done that?” He’s dazed. Overwhelmed in the best possible away. He truly is not sure how to communicate to her that he’s never been harder, happier, and more certain of the existence of a benevolent God than he is right now. “Yeah,” he grunts.

“Um, do you maybe want to bite me, too?” That’s when Koen passes out for a minute. At least, he thinks so. His vision blacks out, and sound recedes. He’s suspended in nothing. Then, when he comes to, she’s still soft underneath him, and clearly in the middle of a little speech.

“Koen, you are the most intrusive mate ever. You never stop staring at me when we’re in the same room, you wake me up to have sex in the middle of the night, you keep tearing my clothes, and you want to be with me every second you’re not gone on pack business. You’re not really the space-giving kind of partner, and—” “I’m trying. I could be way fucking worse.”