When He's an Alpha (The Olympus Pride 2)

Tate did his best not to think about Havana, but many times he’d found himself wondering where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with. She cropped up in his thoughts far too often, especially at night. He couldn’t even jack off without her appearing in his mind’s eye, so then he’d end up coming to memories of the times he’d had her beneath him. He hadn’t taken another female to his bed as it wouldn’t have been fair to them when his mind was on Havana.

Okay, that was a barefaced fucking lie. He hadn’t taken another female to his bed because he didn’t want another female. He wanted Havana.

He still couldn’t quite believe he’d almost marked her. The urge had come out of nowhere and crawled all over him. More disturbing, it hadn’t left him. He felt it everywhere. It was like a hum in his blood. A pounding in his veins. A craving in his gut. An itch he couldn’t reach, because it seemed to be beneath his flesh.

The disconcerting urge hadn’t lessened with time. If anything, it seemed to have intensified. He would have questioned if she could be his true mate if the impulse to brand her had stemmed from possessiveness. But it was more of a need to dominate, to force her to submit to his wants and not leave his side until he was good and ready. Which meant he had no business leaving any such mark on her.

His cat, being a mostly selfish creature, didn’t agree. The feline wanted to find her. No, hunt her. Catch her. But Tate knew his cat wouldn’t wish to keep her, and therein lay the problem.

“Walking away is definitely the right thing to do if a relationship doesn’t have a future,” said Vinnie. “You’ll find your true mate eventually, or someone who you care for enough to take as a mate. Havana will do the same. I once read that loners tend to have more luck finding their true mates—probably because they often travel. A beautiful woman like her won’t struggle to find a man.”

Jealousy swirled in his belly, and Tate had to bite back a growl. He tossed his father an impatient look. “Stop trying to bait me. It pisses me off.”

“Most things do lately.” Vinnie sobered. “And, completely off the subject of Havana, my news is definitely not going to improve your mood any.”

Even as Tate’s shoulders bunched with tension, he said, “Go on.”

Vinnie leaned forward and rested his clasped hands on the table. “Priscilla called me earlier. Apparently, Ashlynn wishes to return to the pride.”

Shock slammed into Tate, making his thoughts go blank for just a moment. His cat peeled back his upper lip—the feline hadn’t yet forgiven their ex-partner. “Why is it that Priscilla never came to me with this?”

“It’s not because she struggles to accept that you’re now Alpha, if that’s your concern. She’s been a friend of mine for years. She’s worried you’ll turn down Ashlynn’s request, so she came to me for advice on how best to handle the situation. I offered to act as a medium purely because I would rather you heard this from me than from Priscilla. According to her, Ashlynn simply believes it’s time she came home but fears she won’t be welcome.”

She’d never be welcome to Tate—too much shit had happened between them. And who wanted to be around their ex when said ex had fucked them over? But he’d always known she’d return sooner or later. Whereas the news once would have riled him, it now did no more than irritate him. She no longer had any real power over his emotions. “I’ll call Priscilla and inform her that Ashlynn can return.”

Vinnie frowned. “You want her back here?”

“No. But nor do I feel any great need to keep her away. She’s no one to me.”

“You and Ashlynn were a couple for over twelve months. The stirrings of imprinting were there. You suffered greatly after those minor threads broke.”

He had, yeah. And it had killed what Tate felt for her. Back then, he’d been so sure he loved her that he’d also been open to imprinting on her, even though it meant forsaking his true mate. The decision had been simpler for Ashlynn. She’d known for a long time who her true mate was; she’d known she couldn’t have him.

She’d been just twelve-years-old when she felt that one of their pride mates, Koby—a man fifteen-years her senior—was her true-mate. She hadn’t wasted a moment in declaring it to him. Freaked out, Koby had insisted she was wrong. He’d later imprinted on the female he was dating, Gita.

It had devastated Ashlynn, but she’d ploughed through, determined to build a life without Koby. She’d claimed she wanted to build that life with Tate. But when Gita later died, Ashlynn had told Tate that she needed to be with Koby. Not just to rally around him and help him overcome his loss, but to eventually make him accept that Ashlynn was meant for him.