"He's called the Alpha of Death because death always follows him around." One male begins.
"Some say he came back from the dead."
"Others say that he's the King of the Dead."
"You know Hades, the Greek God of the Underworld?" The other man questions...
Lucas raises his eyebrows but doesn't comment. That's probably the first real sound I've made since we left the hospital. He leans down, wrapping his arms around me. I lean forward and our lips meet, sparks igniting at the contact. My hands naturally fly up to his soft hair, tugging at the ends but my mind flies back to our first kiss.
He groans, trying to deepen the kiss. I moan when he bites my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I deny him access and he tugs at my hair, causing me to gasp and him to have enough time to slip his tongue in. We fight for dominance and of course, Mr. Alpha here wins. Finally, running out of breath, we both pull away, foreheads touching as we pant heavily. Our eyes meet, both darkened with lust desire for their mate. I offer him a small smile and he breaks out into a full blown grin. He intertwines our hands and pecks my lips.
My mate had accepted me. The rumours weren't true.
The great Alpha Lucas was somehow falling for his damaged little mate with his own damaged mind and soul. But neither of them would realize that. Not until it was too late.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
...Melanie
I wake up, abruptly, to the sound of birds chirping outside and the sunlight streaming onto my face. A cold sweat had broken out along my spine due to the nightmare. I inhale a sharp breath as I recall the contents of the terrifying dream and I cuddle further into the warmth surrounding me and almost jump in shock when it moves.
Since when did my blanket move? I glance over my shoulder and immediately move back, falling off the bed and hitting my head, hard. Groaning, I make a move to get up when the blanket moves again, growling softly this time, causing me to fall right back onto my ass. It wasn't a blanket... it was just my mate.
Memories from yesterday flood my mind, causing me to sigh in relief when I noticed there was no mark on my neck and I wasn't naked. Werewolves consisted of two interchangeable counterparts as everyone knows- a human and an inner wolf. The wolves usually tend to get out of hand when it comes to their mates, and their human equivalent would occasionally be forced to let go of their senses to their wolfy half and their demands. Demands such as marking their mates to be known as only theirs. Forced markings happened too often in our supernatural world, only because the male wolf wouldn't be able to help making it known when a female was solely theirs.
Lucas groans so I hesitantly get up from my spots, moving closer. His hands reach out on the spot I had just rolled away from, searching. He props open one eye when he can't find me, meeting my sleepy gaze. "Tiger? Come back..."
I almost smile when I see him reaching out for me again, eyes closed. I move to the edge of the bed and he immediately wraps his arms around me, as if sensing my proximity. My mate pulls me back into the bed, highly aware of my position on top of him and facing him, our lips millimetres apart. I squirm, slightly uncomfortable with the closeness.
