Mate (Bride, #2)

by Ali Hazelwood

She tore him apart and remade him. It took her less than a second.

“You wouldn’t want me anyway, if it weren’t for the whole biology thing. I’m a mess,” I say, subdued, barely audible. He hears me, though. “Oh, yeah. You are.”

“And I’m not going to say that I can fend off whoever comes for me. However, if I know about a threat, I can prepare and take care of myself—” “I will take care of you,” he says roughly. Oh. “Oh.”

“I can walk.” “Me too. Wanna start a club?” “Can I be president?” “Treasurer at most.”

I narrow my eyes. “You know what else can be therapeutic?” “Punching me in the nuts?” That’s exactly what I was going to say. “How did you know I—” “You’re pretty fucking predictable.”

“I had a mandatory biology class in college.” “And you retained knowledge from that low C?” “Stay out of my transcripts.” “But they’re such a riveting bedtime read.” “And it was a C-plus.” “You woman in STEM.”

He may have just threatened to macerate me, but at least he’s funny about it.

“Poor baby Were.” He turns to me. Suddenly, I see compassion in his eyes. “In that case, we’ll find a place where you can be alone in the middle of nowhere.” My heart soars. “Really?” “No,” he says mildly. “Fuck that. You’ll stay where I put you.”

Look at her. Just—look at her.

Because every single thing I glanced at, grazed, examined, eyed, or even considered when we were at the grocery store, every single thing I decided to walk past, every single thing I told myself I didn’t need—every single thing has somehow made it here, inside Koen’s house.

Her laughter adjusts the spin of his atoms.

“Mouthy, isn’t she, Boden?” He sighs. “Never thought I’d be into that, and yet. Bane of my fucking existence.” His eyes flit to mine. “Don’t stop on my account,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I love watching asses being ridden. It’s my favorite kind of porn.”

“Since you’re so sure that everyone here despises her, including me, let this be known: fuck with my mate, and I’m going to kill you so slowly, draw it out so long, tectonic plates will move and create whole new mountain ranges. And when the rest of your family comes to avenge you, I’ll do the same to them. And if your friends come, I’m not going to fucking stop.

He told her that he would never touch her because he didn’t want her enough; in truth, he will never touch her because he wants her too much. The make-believe, he thinks, was kinder to both of them.

“I guess my point is”—I clear my throat—“that your nose would tell you if something was happening between us.” “Maybe they have a cold,” Koen drawls. “Maybe that cold made their brains leak out of their ears.”

down my arm, up my spine, pools in my belly. “She’s high maintenance. Talks too much. Can’t mind her business. The very opposite of how I like my pack members—seen but not heard.” I snort. “He doesn’t like to see them, either.” “Yeah. True enough.”

He wants to show her every corner of his territory. The deep blue lakes and the snow-capped peaks. Moss-draped trees and rock spires. He wants to be with her for each marveled intake of breath.

“You want her, but you are not worthy of her.” “Man, you don’t know me. I think I bring a lot to the table.” “Like several moldy unicorn waffles,” I mutter.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning. If anything happens to me, what do you do?” “Buy a black veil, pretend I’m a widow, cash in on your life insurance.” “You call Lowe. Ask him to come get you.”

“No one ‘lets’ me do stuff or go places,” I point out tiredly. “That’s not how it works, Koen.” “If you were mine, it would. And clearly, you fucking should be.”

“Anything that’s going to happen to you,” he promises, voice honest and pitched low in the swish of the breeze, “is going to be over my dead body.”

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.

There has never been anyone like him. I could live a thousand more years, and there will never be.

“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.”

“Oh, come on.” I elbow his biceps. “You know what I mean. What’s your corporate mission? What’s an Alpha’s routine? You wake up and the first thing you do is…?” “Chase that squirrel we discussed.”

I think about having this, but times twenty. Times one hundred. Times tens of thousands. When two people fall in love, how many nights do they spend together, doing absolutely nothing, before they’ve had their fill? How many silences and crosswords and mugs of tea do they share?

“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.”

His nuisance. That’s what she is.

It was hard to imagine that you could find a person, and they’d instantly become everything. That they’d take up all the space inside you and leave no room for doubt.

And the last thing I want is to ask him to make an impossible choice. So I reach out. Run my hand through his hair, trying not to sigh at the way he leans into it, like my skin is his North Star.

There is no pleading, nor an attempt to convince me that I’m overreacting. He sits quietly, looking up at me like I’m a queen. His life and death are but my decision. He wouldn’t dream of objecting. If I want to carve his heart out of his chest, he’ll crack his rib cage open and lie prone for me.

“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.”

“There could never be disappointment, because there were never any comparisons, or expectations, or hopes, or standards to meet. There’s only…” He casts a glance around the room, searching. Then his eyes settle on me. “There is only you, Serena.”

“I’m the Alpha of this pack. I know everything.” I squint. “What’s the square root of pi?” “Zero point nine.”

I could spend the next hundred years cataloging new things about him, and never be done. He could be the project of my lifetime. Just like I’m his.

“You are the heart of this pack, Koen.” He nods. Even as he says, “And you are mine, Serena.”

You acted selfishly again. And you know what? I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you shouldering everything like you’re the fucking guy with the stone.” “Sisyphus?” “No—the other guy.” “King Arthur?” “No, the asshole who carries the planet.” “Atlas!”

“But, Serena, the thing about Ana and Lowe and Juno and every other person I’ll meet for the rest of my life is…they’re not you. They don’t get it. They’re never going to get it.”

“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.”

Alpha instinct doesn’t normally concern itself with external approval, but Serena…she feels like another part of him. His heart, in another body.

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.

He would die for her, and he would kill for her. More importantly, he will live for her. She’ll be the purpose driving every second of his every day.