Crossed Fates by Lexi C. Foss

Makayla

Mmm. Damn, I feel awesome.

My body felt used and abused. Satisfied and content. The events of last night replayed in my mind, and a slow smile spread across my face. My wolf purred in agreement.

A warm, strong body was curled around me, and I sighed as I snuggled deeper into his embrace.

This feels so good. Oh, yes, I could absolutely get used to this.Something about that thought gave me pause, clearing the sleepy fog from my mind.

I froze.

No. It feelstoo good.

Shit.I tried to squirm away, but Alaric’s arms tightened around me. His hardness pressed against my ass, making me tingle with the memories of how he’d felt moving inside me.

On my back.

On my knees.

Against the headboard.

Oh God, even on the dresser.

We’d practically fucked across every inch of his bedroom.

My damn thighs were probably bruised. And yet my wolf radiated contentment, thoroughly pleased.

If I were being honest with myself, I’d agree to also being thoroughly pleased. He’d absolutely lived up to—and beautifully surpassed—all expectations.

“Good morning,” he rumbled softly.

“Mm-hmm,” I hummed.

“That’s my line, sweetheart.” His voice sent shivers down my spine. As did his impressive length searing my backside.

Fuck it, I thought. What could it hurt to indulge? Because, damn, last night had been dirty and decadent all rolled into a series of phenomenal sex.

I wiggled around to face him, and his mouth curled up into a sleepy smile in response.

I took in his beautiful face, strong neck, broad shoulders, and sculpted chest. “Do you think…?” My voice trailed off as a mark on Alaric’s pec captured my focus.

What in the…?

Oh! I jackknifed up in bed, unable to look away from the reddish-brown tattoo-like brand of a wolf marring his skin.

That had definitely not been there last night.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

“Give me a minute, sweetheart. I’m still waking—”

“That’s impossible,” I interrupted. “We haven’t—we didn’t—we’re not. This is wrong.” My voice rose higher and higher until I was all but squeaking. I scrambled to my feet, standing over Alaric like some kind of giant, glaring down at him.

He sat up, his expression suggesting he thought I’d lost my mind.

How I wished he were right.

I reached down to touch him, just in case.

And nope. Definitely real. Definitely branded. Definitely my wolf.

He didn’t seem to notice, his gaze turning concerned as I began to pace, all the while glaring at his tattoo and willing it to go away.

Could he not feel it?

Was I imagining it?

Maybe… Maybe…

Alaric grasped my hand to stop my movements. “Makayla, what the hell is wrong with you?”

I pointed a trembling finger at his pec. “That.”

His gaze dropped to the wolf tattoo. “What the hell?” He released me to poke at it, his expression more curious than anything. “Huh.” After poking it again, his eyes drifted to my hip. “You have—”

“Yes,” I groaned as I sank back down to the mattress.

He shrugged as if I’d just informed him that it was Tuesday when he thought it was Monday. “Never been into tats, but whatever.”

“You don’t understand. This is… this means… it doesn’t work… and it’s impossible. We can’t be—we can’t!”

Alaric simply stared at me. “That made no sense. But I’m going to take it as a compliment that you’ve forgotten how to properly speak English.” He caught my wrist and yanked me into his lap, his smile wicked. “Let’s see if I can make you lose your voice next.”

I shoved him away and rolled off the bed and onto my feet again. “No, no. No more touching. No more this. No more mating,” I declared, holding out my hand like a stop sign.

Alaric flopped back onto the pillows with his hands behind his head. “A bit late for that, sweetheart.”

I sputtered for a second, then glared at him and began to pace once more. He merely grinned, which, of course, made my wolf do cartwheels inside me. I tugged on my hair to keep myself from wrapping my hands around Alaric’s neck and throttling him. Or strangling myself. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do more.

This is bad. This is so bad.

“It’s fine,” Alaric said as he peeled back the covers and moved to the edge of the bed.

He had his talk with the alphas today. And—I glanced at a clock on his nightstand—since we’d slept all of the morning away, he was running out of time to prepare. His father wanted him to attend as the Silver Lake Alpha, a task Alaric had accepted without argument. He hadn’t yet commented on the future of that role, and I suspected he wouldn’t for some time. Still, the position looked good on him.

However, I wasn’t done flipping the fuck out!

I scrambled onto the mattress and up to his side, grasping his biceps to keep him from standing until we figured this shit out. “How are you not more freaked out, Alaric?”

He shrugged. “I grew up understanding the concept of fated mates. The moment we met, I knew you were my future. Doesn’t mean this has to be a thing, Mak. We like each other. Let’s just leave it at that for now.”

“For now? I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation, Alaric. We’re mates.”

He palmed my cheek and brought our faces close together. “I’m aware, sweetheart. But feel free to keep fighting it. It’s kind of hot.” His blue eyes were dark with desire, and he covered my mouth with his own.

I almost gave in, but I was terrified that if we continued, it might deepen the bond. Who the hell knew what would happen then? There was no rule book for crossed fates!

“You don’t understand,” I said, pulling away. “This isn’t how it works for my kind. That mark should only show up after completing the first and second stages. And… and… it’s darkening, too. Shit.” I pressed my palm to his chest again. “This wasn’t here last night. Right? Like, you’ve never had a birthmark here?”

He arched a brow. “The thing about birthmarks is that you’re born with them. They don’t come and go.”

“I know that, Alaric.”

He grinned. “Then the answer is no, sweetheart. I didn’t have a wolf on my chest until this morning.”

“Ugh, that’s not what I mean.” Seriously, how was he not upset about this? “Did you have a birthmark here at any point?”

He must have heard the seriousness in my tone because his expression turned pensive. “No, Makayla. It’s always been smooth skin. No mark.”

“Then maybe it’s temporary.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Fated mates are not temporary.”

“My kind doesn’t do fated mates!” I said for the thousandth time. “We have five stages. They are specific and have to be followed for that”—I pointed at the darkening brand on his pec—“to happen.”

His hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck. “Rules don’t seem to apply here, sweetheart.” He kissed me again, his calmness seeping in through our bond. Which meant he could feel my anxiety, too. Yet he countered it with a sweep of his tongue across my mouth, demanding I open for him.

I clamped down my jaw instead. No.

He growled and nipped my lower lip in response. “You run, I chase. And, baby, that just turns me on more.”

My wolf spun in a dizzying circle inside me, liking the sound of that.

No,I repeated.

I shoved him away again, and he allowed me to flee with a laugh, clearly unbothered. He stood from the bed, momentarily distracting me with his tight, sexy ass. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, and the fog of lust dissipated.

I dropped my face into my hands and groaned. It’s not supposed to happen like this.

“Like what?”

I froze for a second, then my head popped up and I stared at the bathroom door in disbelief. “I didn’t say that… no. No! No, no, no! You can’t be in my head!”

Totally in your head, sweetheart.

This wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have heard him in my head. “Impossible. Impossible. This is impossible!”

You know, Bitten mates don’t usually have telepathy.

A growl of frustration escaped me, and I mentally snapped, I’m not talking to you.

Hmm, well, if you’re not talking to me, could you speak to yourself a little more quietly? You’re giving me a headache.

I grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, only to hear him laughing in my head.

The next thing I knew, the pillow was torn from my hands and Alaric stood directly in front of me in all his naked glory. I tried really hard not to think about dirty things and how turned on I was at the sight of him, but his devilish grin told me I’d epically failed.

He captured my hand and tugged me off the bed and into the bathroom, filled with steam from the running shower. “If those are the kinds of thoughts you are having about me, this telepathy thing might not be so bad,” he said with a grin, and he pushed me into the hot spray.

Or I could stab you again,I thought darkly.

He tsked. “Hmm, now, I thought we covered proper knife play last night.” He grabbed a bar of soap from a nook on the wall and began lathering his hands. “Or do you need another lesson?”