Stone-Hearted Alpha by Eve Bale
Chapter Seven
I’m sitting on the bench at the back of the house, sipping from a mug of herbal tea on a warm summer night.
It’s so peaceful that I’m about to put my mug on the floor and lay on my side to see if I can’t sleep out here. But just before I do, I have a sudden awareness that I’m no longer alone.
Someone is watching me.
I scan the dense dark forest in front of me, my heart pounding with rising fear.
I tell myself not to be silly since it can’t be Abel because Dayne killed him. I’m on my own, and at worst, it’s nothing more than a wild animal.
Even knowing this, it doesn’t stop me from rising and abandoning my mug to head back inside.
At no point do I take my eyes from the forest because I know—I’m absolutely certain—that the second I do, someone is going to rush at me.
I fumble for the door handle and jerk it open before backing inside. Only to stop when I bump into something.
I let the back door slam shut as I turn to see what it is, thinking I dropped something on the floor before I came out.
Bodies covered in blood, eyes staring at me from where they lie, leave me frozen in horror.
And in the corner of the room, I spot a hunched-over figure covered in blood. It’s a man, and I don’t have to see his face to know who he is. Owen. The alpha before Dayne.
As if he feels my gaze on him, he slowly rises.
I back up because the outside has to be better than in here. I have to get out. Now.
I manage two steps before an icy hand, wet with blood, seizes my ankle and yanks. Hard. Making me scream.
I fall.
My back slaps against the floor, winding me. Then the hand starts dragging me, and I open my mouth.
Another scream comes pouring out as I struggle and fight, even though I know there’s no escape. There’s only one person who can save me, and he’s not here. I’m all alone.
I scream louder, fighting with everything I am.
“Savannah!”
I struggle to free myself, but I can’t. I’m pinned down and he’s so strong.
“Savannah!”
Why can’t I get loose? How can he be this strong?
“Savannah, stop it. It’s me, It’s Jeremy.”
The name penetrates my mind, but I shake my head as I fight to get free.
“Open your eyes. It’s just a nightmare. You’ve had a nightmare.”
What he’s saying doesn’t make sense. I was only unpacking a few minutes ago. It was daylight—afternoon—far too early for me to be asleep.
No. That isn’t right.
I finished unpacking. I’m sure of it. I remember dragging the suitcase in the closet when I was done.
I remember Jeremy taking me out for lunch, then we stopped at a grocery store to grab some food for dinner, where we argued non-stop all the way around. About everything.
I lost count of how many times I planned on running Jeremy over with the shopping cart, but somehow, I managed to restrain myself. Only because I realized it wouldn’t do near enough damage.
And I remember people asking how long we’d been married, which made me flush with embarrassment and Jeremy grin down at me.
All of that was hours ago.
I know this because I made up a quick spinach salad with steaks for dinner. I read while Jeremy made more calls, and then I went to bed.
Which means he’s right. I never went out to the back. Not once.
I was having a nightmare. A bad one.
I open my eyes and realize why I found it impossible to get free. Jeremy is half lying over me, with the bedside lamp on illuminating the otherwise darkened bedroom.
While Jeremy is naked, the only thing I’m wearing is my panties, and I’m covered in a cold sweat that smells of terror.
“Are you with me now?” he asks, releasing his hold on one wrist he’s pinned to the pillow.
That’s when I notice the deep scratch on his cheek.
My eyes widen. “Oh, God. I scratched you.”
Since I have no memory of unsheathing my claws, it must’ve been while I was fighting to get free of him—or Owen in my nightmare.
For me to lose control like that is beyond dangerous, and the thought of what else could’ve happened hits me.
I could have cut his throat and not even known it. I could have killed Jeremy.
“Small price to pay,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes.
I stare up at him, my breathing unsteady, filled with horror at the thought of waking up beside Jeremy’s dead body.
My nightmares have sometimes been so bad that Dayne heard me screaming from the main house and came running to the cabin.
They’ve been so bad there were times no one could reach me. It was as if my nightmares had me trapped and I had to find my own way out.
But Jeremy got me out.
“Savannah, what—”
I use his shoulders to pull myself up before fusing my lips against his and slamming my eyes shut.
For one second, Jeremy stills against me, and then, with a low groan, he dips his head and kisses me back.
I sink into it, not letting myself think of anything but the solid weight of Jeremy’s body pressing mine into the bed as I wind my arms and legs around him.
Jeremy deepens the kiss, and I moan into his mouth at how good it feels as I run my hands over his back, delving into his muscles and exploring every inch of skin I can get my hands on.
When he grabs at my panties and starts tugging them down, my body goes taut with anticipation because I know soon he’ll be inside me again.
Jeremy’s next groan is full of frustration, and despite my desperate attempt at stopping him, he breaks our kiss and raises his head.
His eyes burn with need, and he’s fighting to catch his breath as much as I am. “Savannah…” His voice is a low growl, and I can’t help but want him even more.
“Why did you stop? I want you.” I rub myself against him and feel him hardening against my belly.
He closes his eyes and forces a deep breath out before opening his eyes to pin me with a dark stare. “No. You don’t want to tell me what this was about.”
I shake my head. “No, you just don’t want me.”
Jeremy presses his cock into the vee of my thighs, making me moan. “Since we both know that isn’t true, what terrified you?”
I tear my gaze from his. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jeremy bends closer, making it impossible for me to avoid his eyes. “And why do I get the feeling it’s what had you running before?”
Once again, I curse his ability to read me.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, trying to steady my breathing.
“It’s the look in your eyes. I’ve seen it before.”
“Well, that didn’t stop you from fucking me before,” I snap. “So, I don’t see why you’re suddenly concerned now.”
The heavy silence that follows my words is almost painful, and the fury lighting his eyes makes me wonder if I’ve gone too far.
For a second, regret wavers in my mind because he didn’t deserve that. Not after he pulled me from a nightmare.
“I see,” he says, in a deceptively mild voice.
Deceptive because his eyes warn me that he’s anything but calm right now.
“You see what exactly?” I ask because I’m scared that I’ve said too much, that I’ve shown him too much.
“You think I took advantage of you.”
Is that what I’m saying?
When I don’t respond, the fury builds in Jeremy’s eyes.
“You think my desire to fuck you was more important than anything you might need. So, you think I took advantage of you.”
I realize that’s pretty much what I’m accusing him of, and he’s right to be pissed because I’m making it his fault, as if I didn’t go looking for some way to hide from my nightmares.
“That isn’t what I’m—”
When Jeremy suddenly pulls away from me, a feeling close to panic rises.
“You know what, I think I need a drink.” He moves to the edge of the bed and prepares to stand.
“You’re the only one that’s ever made me forget,” I blurt.
Jeremy stops moving, just sits with his back to me, on the edge of the bed. “Forget what?”
I pull the sheets up over my chest and stare up at the ceiling, willing my tears away. “The pain. The guilt. All of it. So, if anything, I think I took advantage of you.” My words end in a whisper as I continue to stare at the ceiling.
“What would you need to feel guilty about?”
I shake my head.
“And this pain?”
Although I feel him shifting to look at me, I don’t turn to meet his gaze. “I can’t…” I shake my head again because even if I wanted to, there’s no pulling the words free from where they’ve lain buried deep inside me for years. “I can’t.”
I’m expecting him to push me for answers, but when he slips back into bed and moves me so my head is resting on his chest, I blink in surprise.
“Sleep now,” he says. “We’ll talk in the morning.” He reaches out and flicks the lamp off.
I lie there in the dark, swimming in confusion. “What if I don’t want to talk in the morning?”
Jeremy wraps his arms tighter around me. “Then we won’t.”
I curl an arm around his waist as I fight back a yawn. “You know, you’re a lot nicer at night than during the day,” I tell him.
With my face against his chest, I feel his silent laughter. “So are you, sweet. Go to sleep.”
I grumble since I know that isn’t true, but I slowly let sleep overcome me.
Just before I drift off, I have a sudden realization I might fall right back into the same nightmare.
I jerk awake and struggle to get up. “No. No, I don’t want to.”
I sound like a petulant child. I know it the instant the words leave my mouth, but Jeremy doesn’t laugh or make fun of me.
He presses a hard kiss on my brow and holds me even tighter. “I have you, Savannah. I won’t let go. Sleep.”
And even knowing that’s the very opposite of what I want, that his words shouldn’t fill me with this much relief, somehow they just… do.
My eyes drift closed, and I sink against Jeremy, comforted beyond measure at the feel of him holding me close.