The Alpha (The Lycans 4)

Their heads were low as they spoke softly, their language not something I understood but was starting to assume was Gaelic, given their Scottish heritage.

As if Cian sensed my presence, even though his back was to me, he turned around, his face softening, the hard lines of concentration that had just been in his expression fading away. He was in front of me in a few steps, a massive body looming over mine yet not intimidating.

“Ye shouldn’t be out of bed.” The rough timbre of his voice shouldn’t have done the things they did to my body, causing places to tingle that should have been dormant right now, given the stress. But I let it seep into me. I took comfort in it.

“I feel better,” I said honestly.

The silence stretched out before Cian finally said, “Tog na siùil.” Cian never took his gaze off mine, but it was clear he spoke to the other man, as he left right away after the words were out.

When we were alone, just inches separating us, I had the uncontrollable urge to lean into him, but I needed answers before I gave in to this intense attraction. “Who was that?”

Cian stepped aside and gestured for me to take a seat on the couch.

Once I sank down, I felt a little of the pressure leave my head. He stood there for a moment as if he was contemplating sitting beside me, and I moved over an inch, a nonverbal cue that he was welcome to sit down. I kept it to myself that I wanted him by me.

He dropped his big body gracefully down to the cushion, and I was once again very aware of his sheer size. Even sitting, my head barely reached his shoulders.

“You’ll answer all my questions?” I finally prompted, breaking the silence. He shifted that big, powerful body around so he was partially facing me and inclined his head in agreement.

God, where to start?

“Who was that other man?”

“Odhran,” he said instantly. “He’s a Lycan in the Guard.” At my confused look, he went on to explain. “Soldiers of my kind who I train.”

“So, you’re like the leader?”

His lips quirked. “In human terms, I’m like the general of the Guard. We have a leader of our kind, the king of the Scottish Lycan clan. Banner.”

I nodded mutely. “Oh boy. So much—”

“Insanity,” he said with amusement in his voice. I laughed softly and nodded again. “I can imagine how hard it is tae come tae terms with all of this, tae be thrust intae a world ye only thought was make-believe.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah.” I smoothed my hands down my thighs and pressed on. “It's a little hard to take in, that’s for sure.” I smiled at him. “So everything Darragh told me was the truth? Like all of it?” I could’ve emphasized everything. Lycans, fated mates, vampires and werewolves and who knew what else there was out there. But I didn’t need to go into detail. He exhaled and inclined his head again, not speaking, just listening, letting me set the pace for this conversation.

I swallowed and looked around the room, mainly just to get my bearings, let his nonverbal affirmation settle into me. The living room followed the same monotone color scheme and bland decor the bedroom sported. Gray and cream shades, tan tweed couch and love seat, coffee table between the two pieces of furniture, home living style magazines on top of that. The few pictures on the wall were of landscape scenes, and there was a potted plant in the corner I was pretty sure was fake.

“Will you leave me alone if I told you I didn’t want any of this?” I whispered and wasn’t looking at him as I asked the question, but I could feel his gaze on me, his eyes hard and penetrating. I finally glanced at him when the silence stretched on, his expression having me suck in a sharp breath at the sheer intensity of it.

He slowly shook his head. “I canna. Ye’re my mate, and I’ll be by yer side until the day I die.”

I worried at my bottom lip, because although his words should scare the hell out of me, the truth was there was this spark of life in me at hearing them. Never alone. Someone always at my side.

“Ye’re my Linked Mate, the one person born tae be completely mine, the same as I am yers.” There was pride in his voice, his chest puffed out, his chin tipped up. “For two hundred and fifty years, I’ve lived a life of solitude—”

“Two hundred and fifty years?” I choked out, my eyes feeling huge. Holy shit. “I’m only twenty-three.” I didn’t know why that mattered mentioning, but to know this man beside me was centuries old on top of being some mystical beast made my head spin even more. Good God, what in the hell kind of world have I been living in?