My Fated Alpha's Cruel Game (Elena and Marcus) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 Bedside Vigil

Marcus’s POV

The door clicked shut behind her, and the office went wrong.

Wrong smell. Wrong air. Wrong everything.

Her scent still hung in the room, wet rain and something warmer underneath, something that made my teeth ache. I sat back down at the desk. Picked up the pen. Set it down again.

You’re a fool.

Ronan’s voice surfaced low and ugly in my skull.

Not now.

You put that woman on your lap. With our mate in the doorway. Our mate, Marcus. You let Viviana paw at you while our mate bled on the floor.

It was necessary.

Necessary. He laughed. A wolf’s laugh is not a pleasant sound. You tell yourself pretty words. I watched you. You could barely keep your hands off Elena and you know it.

I pressed my palms flat to the desk. Wood. Solid. Real.

When I first discovered she was my mate at twelve years old, she had been just a child. The mate bond had been a whisper then, barely a hum. Easy to walk away from. But now that she is eighteen, the intense attraction she displayed completely shocked me. Today she had walked into my office with a split cheekbone and a mouth full of fire, and the hum had become a roar.

Tall. Almost my height. Hair like pale silk. Eyes that did not lower when I looked at her.

I’d wanted to put my hand on her throat and feel her pulse. I’d wanted to put my mouth on the blood at her cheekbone. I’d wanted a great many things that an Alpha in a three-piece suit cannot want in front of his political girlfriend.

Political. Ronan spat the word. You keep saying it like it’s a shield.

It is a necessary political alliance. Her uncle is an incredibly busy Alpha, and we need this connection. You want war? Because I don’t.

I want our mate.

You cannot have her. Not openly.

Ronan went quiet. That was worse.

I stood. Straightened my cuffs. Smoothed my waistcoat. Viviana was waiting in the car.

Lunch. Smile. Squeeze her hand across white linen. Order the wine she liked. Do the job.

The restaurant was the best in town, which wasn’t saying much, but the owner knew me and the corner booth was kept empty. Viviana slid in beside me instead of across. Pressed her thigh to mine under the table.

“You’ve been quiet, Marcus.”

“Meetings.”

“Mm.” Her red nails walked up my sleeve. “That little stray in your office. She’s been handled?”

I didn’t answer. I picked up the menu.

Ronan growled under my ribs.

“Marcus.”

“Drop it, sweetheart.”

She pouted. Reached for my water glass like she owned it. I let her.

The waiter came. I ordered for both of us without looking at him. Viviana talked. Something about a boutique. Something about a necklace. Her voice slid over me like oil over glass, not sinking in.

I was thinking about a bloody cheekbone and a mouth that said you’re a coward without saying it.

Then, behind my eyes, Beta Hugo slammed in.

Alpha.

Mind-link. Tight. Panicked. Hugo was never panicked.

Speak.

It’s the girl. Elena Fairfax. She was attacked in the alley behind Cramer’s. Five males. I got there too late. She’s en route to County. It’s bad, Alpha. Skull, ribs, internal—it’s bad.

The room went white around the edges.

Ronan exploded.

MOVE.

I was already on my feet. Chair scraping. Viviana’s hand falling off my arm.

“Marcus, what—”

“Stay here.”

“Where are you going? Marcus—”

I threw bills on the table without counting. I heard her call my name again, sharp now, wounded. I did not turn around. I walked out of the restaurant and broke into a run the second the door shut behind me.

The hospital corridor reeked of bleach and cheap coffee. I smelled her before I saw the room. Blood. Her blood. A great deal of it.

And underneath, another male’s scent, all over her.

Ronan lost his mind.

I shoved the door and a man spun away from the bed with his hands raised. Dark hair. Apron under his jacket. He had the hem of her shirt lifted, her ribs bared to the fluorescent light.

I hit him.

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