I grunted as he treated me like a sack of potatoes. “I’m fine,” I declared for the fiftieth time, ignoring the quiver that went through me when I thought about how close I’d actually been to death.
I shuddered, or worse.
My reassurance fell on deaf ears since he didn’t slow or put me down. “What happened at the meeting?” I asked, trying to distract him.
It didn’t work as he remained silent, his long legs making short work of the path. When we reached his cabin, he finally set me down with a thump in the middle of his Spartan living room.
“Stay,” he rumbled, the word barely intelligible as he turned to go back outside.
“I’m not a dog,” I shouted at his back, the helpless terror I’d felt suddenly morphing into rage at his indifference.
He spun around at my shout, his eyes glittering as he roared, “No, you’re my mate.” Power radiated from him, almost overwhelming me as I fought the instinctive desire to cower in the face of it.
I straightened my back, “I am Jess Carter. Daughter, sister, motel owner…well part motel owner, high school senior,” I paused as his expression darkened when I refused to say mate. “I’m smart, resourceful, clever, strong, and I won’t allow anyone to limit me,” my voice rose, “To define me to one thing.”
He stalked towards me and even though my legs felt about as strong as Jello I held my ground, at least until he fell to his knees in front of me. Shock held me immobile as his head bumped my stomach. “Mine. My mate, my Jess, my everything.” His head tilted back enough that he could stare up at me. “Seeing that dead Hanley, knowing how close, do you have any idea what that felt like?”
“Yeah, actually,” I answered faintly, my hands going to the sides of his head, gripping a little tighter than necessary as I muttered, “I was there. I watched him die. Pretty sure I fucking know what it felt like.”
He winced, whether from my words or the fact that I was sandwiching his face between my hands I couldn’t be sure. I finally released him with a frustrated sigh. “You are so –” I cut myself off, unable to find a word that correctly expressed how frustrating his overbearingly protective instincts were to me.
His eyebrow cocked up as he waited and I finally burst out with, “Alpha.” I gave a sharp nod, crossing my arms.
“Beta, actually,” he responded, his tone oh so helpful and my eyes narrowed to slits.
“Not a single ounce of self-preservation either,” I managed, my intention of spinning away in a huff disappearing as he held onto my hips. “You can let go now.”
“No, I can’t,” he answered, his voice contrite. “I’m sorry.”
“Because you can’t let go?” I asked, puzzled, and he shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
“No, I’m not sorry at all for holding you hostage.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sorry for reacting like I did. For not talking to you. Not listening to you. For being…”
“Yourself?” I said bluntly, uncrossing my arms and letting them settle on his shoulders as he continued to kneel in front of me. “Newsflash, I know this is who you are. It’s a just a little much sometimes.” I skimmed my fingers over his shoulders, his head almost level with mine even on his knees. “I have to say though,” he glanced at me curiously, something in my tone giving me away. “On your knees is a good look for you.”
He stood then, faster than I could register as he lifted me up and my legs went around his waist instinctively. “I’ll remember that,” he rumbled, his eyes holding the promise of retribution right before he leaned in to kiss me. “I never want you to feel that way again.”
“What way?” I cupped his cheek, his tight jaw ticking under my fingertips. “I’m not mad at you, Dom. I just don’t want to get lost in you.”
“You won’t,” he promised fiercely, his gaze burning into me. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I smiled softly. “It’s not really something you can do. It’s something I have to do,” I told him quietly. I felt his jaw rock under my palm. “What were you talking about?” His gaze shifted from mine as he fought for control. “Dom, what feelings?”
“Helpless,” he bit out. “Terrified and helpless. You thought Monster would be killed, and you were desperate.”
“You felt that?” I asked hesitantly, his earlier reaction making a little more sense. Those were not feelings Dom would be used to. “I didn’t know you could feel that.”
“When you called my name….I heard you, but more than that I felt you. Standing in that crowded Pack House, shouts and confusion all around me and all I could feel was this sudden overwhelming terror.” His voice broke and he had to clear his throat, a hint of shame creeping into his voice. “I hadn’t even realized you weren’t there.”