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

He was so careful with her. Tender, even. Each touch was so soothing and reverent it made her throat burn.

Once they were out of the shower, he looped a towel around his waist and then wrapped another around Havana. He gently patted her dry with the soft, plush towel. There was nothing sensual or provocative about it, but her hormones were still a hot mess. Knowing, feeling, he was hard only made her so much more aware of his every touch, his every breath, his every move.

When he ushered her into the bedroom, she expected him to try his luck getting her into bed—which would have gotten him booted out of the room. He didn’t try anything, though. He pulled on his clothes while she dragged on underwear, a racerback tank, and yoga pants. He then sat her between his thighs on the end of the bed and carefully brushed the tangles out of her wet hair. It was … nice. Relaxing. Intimate. And utterly out of character for him.

They’d showered together before, but he’d never … ministered to her like that. Never made her the center of his entire focus as he washed and dried her. Her devil kind of liked it, but the ever-moody animal still gave him the stink eye just because.

Placing her brush on the bed, he snaked his arms around her waist and tucked his chin in the crook of her neck. “You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Hungry?”

A little, but … “You said there are things you need to explain to me.”

“Right.” He lifted her, spun her to face him, and set her on his lap to straddle him—all of which he did with a casual strength that made her toes curl. He smoothed his hand up her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, and up to her neck. “Could have lost you today. You’re thinking you’re not mine to lose.” Still cupping her neck, he tugged her face closer to his. “You’re wrong.”

Tensing, Havana frowned. “What?”

“When I heard you’d been shot, it rocked me. Sent my inner world fucking spiraling. My emotions were all over the place, and my mind was a mess. Then my mental shields came crashing down, and I had to admit to myself what I’d been consciously unable to face until now. You’re my mate, Havana.”

She did a slow blink, unsure she’d heard him right. “You’re … I don’t … Wait, what?”

He stroked his hand over her hair. “You’re my mate. My true mate. My everything.”

She tilted her head, studying him closely. “You don’t look high.”

His mouth twitched. “That would be because I’m not.”

“Tate, you aren’t thinking clearly. Maybe this whole drive-by thing sent your overprotective nature into overdrive—”

“Yeah, it did. I haven’t felt rage like that in a long time. I forgot how much it chokes you. How it squeezes your chest and rips at your insides. It fucked with my head for a while. I might have found some calm, but I’m feeling pretty hyper-protective right now.”

“And when that wears off—”

“I’ll still be telling you that I know we’re mates,” he finished.

Her heart beating like crazy, Havana shook her head. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re … I don’t know, I don’t get why you’d think we’re mates.” And yet, the words felt … right, somehow.

“I don’t think it, I know it.” Tate smoothed a hand up her back. He could understand why she was confused and conflicted, but for him, it was the opposite. He’d been restless for days, but he felt calmer now that he’d faced the truth. Everything seemed a lot clearer when she was there. Like she eased the chaos in his mind. “I told you my mother was killed by a rogue shifter, right?”

She double-blinked. “Yes.”

“He went rogue because he lost his true mate. And when I watched my dad almost waste away right in front of me because he lost his own, I couldn’t help but ask myself if true-mate bonds were worth the pain and destruction they cause when they snap. Then, after the clusterfuck with Ashlynn, I was in no rush to try imprinting again.”

“You loved her,” said Havana, her voice quiet.

“I thought I did back then. I thought we had a future. I was wrong on both counts. Just as I was wrong to believe she loved me. She couldn’t have, considering all the promises she made meant nothing. Feeling the imprint threads snap … It was a nightmare. Waves of pain or strong emotions would strike me at random times. There were headaches and short periods of depression. It was like being on an emotional seesaw.

“In sum, all my issues about mating blocked the frequency of our bond.”

“And now, just like that, you’re no longer so averse to finding your mate?” she asked, clearly skeptical.

“It was the bond I was reluctant to accept, not you. Never you. Once I realized that you’re mine, my hang ups just lost their power. Because I would rather have you and take the chance that it could all go wrong than give you up again—I don’t have it in me to do it a second time.”