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The Alpha Mate - Chapter 27
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Things had certainly started to slow down.
All the chaos was slowly subsiding. The Silver Bullet hasn’t bothered me in the past two weeks. Weston healed in a matter of days. His incident had actually brought the Crescent and Stone Pack closer and they felt obligated to find the intruder – the person who harmed a wolf in the territory both packs shared. I dismissed patrol duties. I was finally getting enough sleep, but of course, I woke up with a start some nights drenched in sweat and trying to regain my breathing. Weston slept over some nights due to his over-protectiveness of me. Some nights, Darren or Kelly would sleep over. Even my mom did.
I felt week, – like I was being babysat and eventually, I snapped at them. However, they quickly dismissed me with pained expressions. I give it about three months before things stopped completely and my life would go back to normal – sort of.
I was still trying to get used to the fact of werewolves – of Healers. It was hard to believe that something I thought of a myth not even less than four months ago. To conclude and summarize everything I have learned since then, Healers are the highest caste of werewolves. No one knew we were still an existence though. We had the ability to heal any werewolf of course. Every Healer has a specific way though. Some would heal with their eyes, their lips, their chanting, and their saliva even. Mine would be my hands.
Back to the pack, Eli and Abigail did not get together. Unfortunately. I thought since the incident and judging from their scene in the waiting room that they would. However, it seemed like a battle to Abigail. She didn’t know what was the best for her. I later learned she was insecure – she was afraid to give her heart away to Eli again. They found out they were mates when Eli was only fourteen and Abigail fifteen. He was young. He was scared. He rejected her because of it. The other reason was Charles. She loved Charles too. However, I wasn’t going to get in the middle of her problem. It was her heart and her own rightful choice and I respected that.
However, another pair had finally became a couple. Jade and Jarred were probably the most cutest, but the couple that showed the most public display of affection. Weston would cringe, flinch, and his eyes would dilate every time the two would start to make out. However, I would simply put a hand on his chest, using my ability and calming his racing and angry heart. Basically,the two finally became a couple after Weston’s incident; it brought them closer somehow. Jade gushed about how she found out Jarred was her mate since she was sixteen, but was too slow to actually give his heart to him. This was due to her mother’s death of course.
You’re probably confused on the mate thing. Well, I am too, sort of. A werewolf pair finds their mate unexpectedly – even if they knew that person for the longest time. Another curse was put on them for killing most of the Healers. A twist of fate would happen at any random time, leaving a stunned girl and a speechless boy. Oh, what a cruel world we live in.
Back to the present, I never liked to talk about Weston’s incident. It scarred me for life. However, I forbade it to enter my brain. Sometimes, Weston would joke around about it. Obviously, being alpha and all, he’s used to these kind of things.
And today, I was going on another date with him.
“I told you I have hands and could open the door myself,” I groaned, slapping him across the head right after I exited my house.
“Ouch,” Weston said, narrowing his eyes at me. He still held the door open to his car. “I just wanted to be nice. You’re so ungrateful.” He playfully pouted, turning his head away like he didn’t want me to talk to him.
This was our usual greeting.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, laughing and resting my chin on his chest. When he still refused to look at me, I kissed his neck once, hearing the low growl at the back of his throat. I smiled against his neck and started laughing my real laugh – yeah, the one with the snorting. Weston began laughing along with me. I kissed his nose and said, “You can’t stay mad at me.”
He took both of my hands in his and looked down at me. His blue eyes seemed to have more spark than the stars in the sky. He smiled genuinely, resting his forehead on mine. Inhaling my scent, he said, “You look beautiful, Ells.”
I snorted. I just slipped on light dark skinny jeans, a grey, knitted, oversized, long sleeved sweater, black boots from Steve Madden, and my hair was up in a nice bun, with a headband on my head. My make up was minimum, mascara and eyeliner only. To finish it off, my ears were studded with black pearls and I carried a black clutch. Weston did say to dress comfortably.
“You’re the one that looks good,” I admitted, biting my lip. I trailed my eyes down his body once and took him all in. He wore a dark gray button up rolled up to his elbows and straight fit jeans that hung low on his hips. His Nikes were well kept and his hair was short, but not overly so. He cut his hair and I found it attractive on him.
Eventually, I hopped into his car and he drove off to a cozy pancake house. I smiled. He knew me too well. I loved eating at comfortable places rather than high class restaurants where you had to sit so straight. It’s not that I don’t like eating at classy restaurants – I just preferred less crowds, small places, and a cozy feel. Another reason was the waffles. I loved the waffles here that I could eat it anytime of the day.
Our next stop was what surprised me. “The Pack House?” I said, looking at the two story building in front of us.” I unbuckled my seat belt and waited for the engine to die before getting out of the car.
“Yeah,” Weston said, coming around the car and slinging an arm around my shoulder. “I just wanted some alone time with my girl.”
I poked out my tongue. “I’m not your girl, but you’re my man.”
“Whatever you say boss,” He said, rolling his eyes. He took his keys and rummaged through them. When he finally found the right key, he pushed open the door. “I just wanted some peace and quiet. Take a break from all the work. Plus, I haven’t spent alone time with you. I just want peace and quiet with my mate.”
I simply nodded. We decided on popcorn, a warm blanket, cuddling, and a movie. After debate on what movie to watch and many insults back and forth, I had won. With a grin, I happily skipped to the DVD player under the flat screen television and pushed Captain America in.
Eventually, after the part of his transformation, I got bored. I had to admit that we watched this particular movie way too much. This was all due to my obsession with Chris Evans and his nicely sculpted chest. I started to trace circles on Weston’s stomach, my head leaning against his chest. I could feel his muscles underneath the fabric of his button down.
Looking up at Weston, I found him fast asleep. His mouth was slightly agape and his head dangled off the back of the couch. I chuckled at the scene.
I pushed myself off the couch a bit and pressed a lingering kiss on Weston’s soft and full ones. I giggled as his arms tightened around my waist. Pressing another kiss to his neck – his weakness, I smiled as I heard him groan. I stifled in my laughter.
Watching him sleep was actually peaceful. Weston was truly handsome. I trailed my finger down the side of his face softly, tracing the side of his closed eyes, high cheekbones, his strong jaw, and finally, the scar on his lips. His eyes fluttered open as I lingered my fingers there.
“What are you doing?” Weston eyed me suspiciously, but kissed my fingers.
“Nothing,” I said, looking at him straight in the eyes. “I just think you’re really handsome,” I said bluntly.
His arms pulled me closer to him. He smirked down at me and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “And,” He said, giving me a peck. “You’re,” Peck. “Beautiful.” Peck.
He rested his forehead against mine, gulping and still looking at my lips. “You’re really cheesy,” I smiled, brushing my lips against his.
I pressed my lips against his in a soft, tender kiss to show just how much I loved him. However, it quickly turned into the ones one of us had to end before we couldn’t stop. But this time, none of us stopped.
Weston pulled me on top of him, my legs going on each side of him on the couch. I pressed my chest close to his own, running my hands through his short black hair and locking them behind his neck. He groaned as I tugged at the bottom of his hair. He ran his own hands down the curves of my body painfully slowly. Somehow, my thick sweater ended on the ground and all that covered my body from his hands was the thin fabric of my inside shirt.
Weston trailed kisses down my neck and jaw, casually nipping and grazing his teeth here and there. Went he went as far as to kiss the top of my breasts that were exposed at the top of my shirt, I moaned loudly, clutching him closer to me. I felt him smile against me. While he ran his hands up and down my legs, my hands found its own way to the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, I unbuttoned them until the front was completely open. Weston returned to my lips, shivering and grunting under my touch as I roamed my hands down the tight skin of his chest and abs.
He shrugged off his t-shirt, standing up from the couch. I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt as if I was the only one supposed to be there – like a puzzle piece. When I realized we were in one of the rooms, I felt my heart skipping a beat and need in between my legs. I started whimpering, wanting him more than ever.
Weston laid me on the bed, kissing me painfully slow. He took off my inside shirt, massaging my breasts through my bra and moaning loudly against my mouth. He pressed his whole body against mine, keeping his weight off of me at the same time. He left my mouth again, leaving kisses all the way down to my hips which caused me to buck my hips forward and moan.
When he returned to my face, I trailed my hands really low, tracing the edge of his jeans. His hips bucked forward, grinding against my bottom half.
He grunted, keeping his firm strong hands on my hips. Every place he touched me was set on fire. His body was flushed on mine. I shivered with delight under his touch and kisses. He too, felt the same. I knew. And I was sure now that I wanted him.
I tugged on Weston’s belt buckle. He pulled back a pained expression on his face, his hands tracing my face softly. “Are you sure?” He whispered in a pained voice, his eyes a steady black.
I nodded and I was sure my eyes held the same darkness. It reflected the same want in his eyes. That was all it took before his lips crashed down on mine. Our clothes were shed and were now on the floor, our **** bodies flushed together.
“I love you so much, Ells,” Weston whispered in my ear, smiling against it. Before I could tell him I loved him too, a loud cry of pleasure took its place as Weston started mating with me.
**
My phone beeped, waking me up from the best sleep I have had in my entire life of sleeping. I smiled, stretching and feeling the pain in between my legs. However, it was all worth it. I felt tons more closer to Weston and making love to him was indescribable.
I loved him so much.
Weston groaned as I sat up, trying to reach my phone on the table lamp. I laughed as he tried to pull me back next to him. “Where are you going?” He said groggily, still not opening his eyes. “Two times in one night didn’t make you exhausted? Holy crap, I got myself a winner – “
“Shut up,” I squeaked, feeling the blood rush up my neck and into my cheeks. I pulled his arms around my waist off and stumbled out of bed. I pulled on my jeans and shirt, grabbing my phone on the way out. “I got to call my mom before she worries. No service in here. I’ll be back in a few.”
Weston groaned, flipping so his face was buried in the pillows. I rolled my eyes at him and slipped on my shoes before walking out in the cold night air. My face flushed again as I realized we stayed in the whole day.
Unlocking my iPhone, my phone froze.
‘Text message: Unknown Number’
My eyebrows knitted together and I couldn’t help the curiosity that grew. My thumb pressed ‘Open Message’. Once the message opened, my hand began to shake and my body grew cold.
There on the screen was a video. I haven’t played it yet, but the video clearly showed a lady, her dark hair drenched and a new scar cutting across her forehead. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were tied together while she sat on a single chair. Her white shirt was soaking into her shirt, dirt stains visible from the tiny player. Her brown eyes, filled with hatred, looked straight into the camera. Dim light spilled on her, splaying shadows of her and the items around her in what seemed like a warehouse.
“Mom,” my voice trembled into the night, barely above a whisper.
Hesitantly, I pressed the button that scared me the most that evening.
“Danny, whatever you do, don’t come looking for me.”