Fated To The Alpha, Stolen By His Brother

Alpha Thunderfang didn’t say anything, as warm as expected.

She understood he had every reason to not want her here. He was Celeste’s mate. Celeste did not want her here. She didn’t know how to say thank you without irritating him but she was still going to attempt it because it felt like the right thing to do.

”I also wanted to extend my gratitude to you for the blood donation,” she managed. ”The kindness you have extended to me is not something I take lightly. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you, please let me know.”

It probably sounded stupid. But it was real. She meant every word of it and all she could do was hope her sincerity showed through.

She also wasn’t expecting an answer.

Then his eyes changed into molten gold, which meant his wolf was rising and he was upset. Derek’s eyes did the same thing. Except in the Alpha’s case, he probably was irritated by her presence. Fixable.

”Please excuse me, Alpha.”

She moved from that spot down the stairs, beelining back to Derek’s room.

That’s when the thought hit her: Alpha Thunderfang was the masked bomber.

”Holy...”

It was all making sense now.

That’s why he had bid on her. He needed to finish the job so she would never tell on him or figure it out. Him giving blood was a bit unexpected, but maybe he did that for Derek, and maybe Derek taking her as his mate was a complication to his plan, which is why he had been so cold.

But the bombs didn’t go off, so technically, outside of abducting a slave, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe that was a one-time thing. She wouldn’t tell on him. If he didn’t try to kill her, she was fine calling it even. Perfectly healthy response. The Goddess could judge her. That was fine.

She had made it down the stairs, the theory still assembling itself, when arms came out of nowhere, snatching her mid-step. She let out a high-pitched scream like it was the masked bomber all over again.

”Hey, baby, just me,” Derek said. His thumb caught a tear halfway down her cheek that she hadn’t felt fall. ”What happened? You’re burning up. Why are you—”

He didn’t finish. His hand was already on her forehead, then her neck, then her cheek again, and whatever his fingers told him rewrote the rest of the sentence into action.

He picked her up. No warning. No negotiation. Just arms and momentum and the corridor blurring past her in amber streaks.

His chambers. Through the door. Past the bed. Straight into the bathing chamber without breaking stride.

He set her on the counter. The marble was cold against the backs of her thighs and she flinched, but his hands steadied her before the flinch finished. He turned to the bath and twisted the faucet. Water hit the basin, steam climbing immediately, and the sound of it filled the room like white noise that had been prescribed.

He was back before the basin was a quarter full. Standing between her legs, pulling her against his chest, one hand on the back of her head, the other pressed flat against her spine. He held her like the counter wasn’t enough. Like if he let go, the fever would take her somewhere he couldn’t follow.

”If Astra finds out you were out of bed, she’ll take you back to the infirmary. Where were you?” He pressed his forehead to hers. His skin was warm but hers was warmer, and she could feel the difference the way you feel a sunburn against cool sheets.

Nova swallowed. She wanted to tell him but the bomber was Alpha Thunderfang and she didn’t know how to tell him that.

His face fell. Something shifted behind his eyes, a calculation completing, and whatever answer he arrived at softened his entire expression.

”Were you looking for me, baby?”

She opened her mouth. No words came. Apparently that was close enough to yes that his mouth found hers. The kiss was soft.

”And you heard that conversation.” He pulled back just enough to see her face. His thumb traced her jaw once. ”That’s it. I promise, I’m not letting them take you from me. You’re mine.”

He said it like a fact. Like gravity. Like the kind of thing that doesn’t need defending because it was never up for debate.

He unclasped the cloak first, pulling it off her shoulders and dropping it behind him without looking where it landed. Her face heated immediately. He had her out of her camisole and shorts before she could blush any more.

Without a word, he carried her to the steaming tub and lowered her in. The heat found every ache and sore muscle and bruise that was still healing and made a convincing argument for living.

Derek pulled his shirt over his head, stepped out of his sweats, and got in behind her. No announcement. No hesitation. Just the shift of water rising and his chest against her back and his legs settling on either side of hers like this was where he’d been headed all night and the tub was just the first place that made sense.

”No falling asleep this time,” he said as his arms found her under the water. She leaned back against him and looked up at him.

For a moment, he just looked down at her.

”I missed you,” she said softly. It was the truth.

That’s what did it.

His lips found hers and the kiss was deeper than the other times he had kissed her, turning more urgent by the second. His tongue traced the seam of her lips. She parted for him, her body answering his touch with a heat that was both exhilarating and unsettling.

One hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing over her hardened nipple, while his other ventured down in front, finding the sensitive bud between her legs.

Then he started kissing down her neck as he rubbed her in time with his lips. Her head fell back automatically as her hips shifted back against him and he groaned against her skin.

”Derek... I...” she started, her voice breathy, overwhelmed by the rush of sensations. A heat was rising in her that was arousal and something else and it was rising fast. The realization hit her at the worst possible time. She couldn’t process it. Her body wouldn’t let her.