Mated To The Scarred Alpha

LEAH

Hefty, uneven breaths echoing through the early morning silence stir me from sleep. It takes me a moment to realize they're not mine. They're his. The sound draws me in, urging me to turn over, and when I do, the sight that greets me steals whatever remnants of sleep I have left.

He lies beside me, bare-chested and beautiful in the kind of way that makes my breath hitch. The duvet has slipped down below his waist, revealing the sculpted lines of his abdomen, the dips and ridges of muscle carved like art into bronze. His arms are folded loosely beneath his head, biceps taut even in rest, veins visible beneath the skin.

The moonlight filtering through the curtains casts a soft glow across his skin, making him look almost unreal. His face is softer now in sleep. The sharp edge to his jaw is relaxed, and his black hair is a tousled mess of silky strands falling across his forehead.

A lump forms in my throat as my gaze drops to his lips. My lips part slightly, as last night’s moments replay in my head. The warmth of his touch, and even the way he looked at me settled in my belly like honey, sweet and slow.

I stretch my hand, reaching out to brush a few messy strands of hair from his face. But I freeze midway, my fingers trembling.

Dark scars run from the base of his neck and disappear beneath the duvet trailing down the expanse of his back.

"Damn, now I know how he got his name, the Scarred Alpha" I thought.

Goosebumps rise along my arms, as I stare at the scars, a sharp sting coiling in my chest.

“Are you scared?” His voice cuts through my thoughts, raspy from sleep.

I jerk my hand back and clear my throat awkwardly as his cold, grey eyes meet mine. I drop my gaze, the sudden heat on my cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. Damn he's sexy, even when he looks sleepy.

“I... no...I'm...” I fumble, throat tightening as I clear it quickly, trying to recover.

He doesn’t wait for my excuse. He sits up in one swift movement, almost making me squeal in shock. His biceps seem to flex themselves as they bulge more, making my heart beat faster than usual.

He presses a hand to his temple, and closes his eyes. He's mindlinking someone, I figured. I've seen some of the warrior wolves do it in the pack, even Layla, as spoiled as she is. Mindlinking is a gift all werewolves should have naturally, but with my wolf almost non-existent, I don't have it.

He looks back to me, his jaw getting tense.

“I've asked Theron to bring you a dress, we're leaving now.”

I blink. "Leaving?"

He nods once, already moving to the closet to pull on a shirt. "Now."

My heart stutters.

His pack, I'm going to his pack as his mate.

A panic forms in my chest as I try imagining what life in the Blueridge pack would be like, my thoughts begin spiraling. What if they hate me? What if I’m nothing but a girl without a wolf to them just like I am here. What if they never accept me?

I feel a warm touch lift my chin up and I look up to meet Lucian's eyes.

"What are you thinking about, my little flower?" He asks softly. "Is it about my pack?”

I nod blankly, wondering how he knows exactly what I was thinking about.

"Don't worry", he smiles. "You’re not going to relive what you had here. You're mine now, and..."

I swallow hard as I stare directly into his eyes, they are softer and soothing now.

“...my people will accept you. And I’ll make sure you’re safe, and loved.” His thumb grazes my cheekbone. “You’re not going to live in fear anymore, my flower. Not with me.”

My breath catches.

Loved?

His words melt something deep in me. I feel my thoughts slowing down just long enough to imagine what life could be like, being his Luna, waking up beside him every day, being accepted. Being his.

My pulse quickens as he leans slightly closer. His scent surrounds me, warm and intoxicating, and my head tilts without permission, ready to meet whatever comes next.

For a second, I let myself want it. All of it.

But just as quickly as my heart starts to bloom, it shatters. He steps away abruptly, running a hand through his hair. "Get ready," he says over his shoulder, all business again.

His warmth recedes as he stands and my skin suddenly grows cold. I blink, trying to act unaffected, but the heat of humiliation crawls all over me. Of course, it's him, the cold, scarred Alpha. I must be delusional to think that he actually meant what he said.

A loud knock on the door snatches me back to reality. Lucian answers, and it's Beta Theron, carrying a box. The two exchange a few quiet words I can’t catch, and then Lucian turns back to me.

"It’s time."

Beta Theron hands the box to Lucian, and gives me a subtle nod,

as he quietly leaves.

Lucian turns to me and hands me the box. “Wear this”

I take it with unsure hands, and carefully place it on the bed. I open it to see a dress so beautiful

It's deep emerald green, so rich it almost looks black in certain light. It flows like water between my hands, elegant but strong, with silver embroidery along the bodice in the shape of delicate vines. There’s even a faint shimmer to it. Not too revealing, but not overly modest either.

I rise slowly, gathering my thoughts along with the sheet still clutched around me. "Aren’t we... going to inform Alpha Terran?"

His mouth curls, almost into a smirk. “I’m the Lycan Alpha,” he says smoothly. “I don’t need his permission. I go wherever I want, whenever I want. Your Alpha won't dare protest.”

I stare at him, unsure whether I’m shocked... or impressed.

Maybe both.