Chapter 5 He is the Alpha King

(Hilda)

As if he can sense the turmoil inside me, my rescuer opens his arms and I collapse into them, resting my head against his wide, strong chest. 

The moment he wraps me in a tight embrace, I shatter. 

Sobbing into his chest, my body is shaking with the force of my anguish.

He holds me close, gently stroking my hair and whispering soothing words that I can’t hear over the deafening roar of my emotions.

Tilting my head up, my eyes meet his and madness overtakes me.

Without hesitation, I press my lips to his, more than half expecting him to push me away. Instead he hugs me closer. 

The kiss is tentative at first, as though we’re testing the waters, but need soon eclipses everything else and I kiss him harder, my hands clutching his shirt so I can pull him closer.

His lips move against mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless. 

Hands roam my back, tracing the curve of my spine, igniting a fire within me. 

The sound I made was swallowed by his kiss. 

Every caress feels like a promise. 

Reassurance that I’m not alone, that I’m wanted. 

He presses against me, his body warm and solid, and I can feel the steady thrum of energy pulsing between us. 

I wrap my legs around his waist, needing to be closer, needing to feel anchored to something, in this case, someone, real. 

His hands slide along my thighs, lifting me higher, aligning our bodies so perfectly it steals the breath from my lungs.

When I bite his lip, more out of panic than passion, he groans, and the sound travels through me like a shockwave, fanning flames I thought were long dead. 

His hands trail beneath my shirt, brushing my skin, each touch igniting sparks that make me tremble.

Clothes are shed in a blur of tangled limbs and short, desperate breaths. 

We crash together like a storm breaking loose, uncoordinated, wild, and inexplicably right. 

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not cold. I’m not alone.

He holds me like I’m something precious. 

Touches me like he knows every piece of me that’s broken. 

And somehow, in the middle of all the heat and confusion, I laugh, just a little.

Because of course, only I would fall into bed with some stranger in the woods right after escaping a psychotic Alpha and a notorious Alpha King.

When it’s over, we’re both breathless and quiet. 

He cradles me against his chest, his fingers stroking gently through my hair. 

There’s a peace in his touch I haven’t felt in ages, a sense of safety I almost forgot how to want.

I drift into sleep before I can think too much about any of it.

***

Dawn breaks far too soon.

I wake with a start, heart pounding, certainty from the night before already dissolving in the morning light. 

What have I done?

I shift out of his embrace carefully and slide out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. 

I take a step back, then another. 

Maybe I can just disappear. Again.

But just as I turn to run, a warm hand wraps around my wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is low, still rough with sleep. 

Those amber eyes are wide awake though, locked on me.

“I need to leave,” I say, trying to sound braver than I feel.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he replies, letting go of my wrist, but stepping directly into my path.

My mouth goes dry.

And then, without warning, he drops the bomb.

“I’m Arlo,” he says, calm and casual. “Alpha King Arlo.”

My entire body goes cold.

I blink at him, waiting for the punchline.

“You’re what?”

He crosses his arms, watching my reaction with something dangerously close to amusement. 

“Your mate. The Alpha King. That guy you were muttering about in your sleep, calling a warmongering beast and, if I remember correctly, a ‘walking red flag with a crown.’”

Heat floods my cheeks. “I…what…I didn’t know it was you!”

He grins. 

Grins. 

The smug, beautiful menace.

“Well, now you do,” he says, completely unbothered. “And I’m afraid that means you’re mine, Hilda.”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” I backpedal like the floor is lava. 

This can’t be happening.

I’ve already made a mess of everything with Soren, I can’t just… leap into something new with the terrifying Alpha King.

“This was a rebound! You’re the rebound!”

He chokes on a laugh.

“Did you just call me, the Alpha King, your rebound?”

Well… 

“I panicked, okay?”

He steps closer, and now the humor fades into something darker. 

Intense. Dangerous.

“You don’t get to choose when the bond happens,” he says, his voice low. “You feel it. I feel it. You can try to run from it, but it will always bring you back to me.”

I hate that he’s right.

I hate even more that his nearness is doing weird things to my brain.

“I’m not ready,” I whisper, looking up at him. “And I don’t belong to anyone.”

“You’re not a possession,” he says gently. “But you are mine. Just like I’m yours.”

I stare at him, lost in those infuriating golden eyes.

This is bad.

This is very, very bad.

Because somehow, against all odds… it doesn’t feel wrong.

It feels like fate.

And fate has a wicked sense of humor.