Craved by an Alpha

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Craved by an Alpha Page 8

by Felicity Heaton


  “Sorry,” he muttered and carefully laid her down.

  He took his pack off, unrolled his sleeping bag, and pulled her onto it to get her off the cold hard ground. He used his heightened vision to find the small solar-powered light he had in the backpack and turned it on. Blue-white light chased the shadows back. He couldn’t light a fire. The smoke would accumulate in the cave. He needed to get her warm though, and there was only one way it was going to happen.

  His body got the wrong idea, his cock stiffening in his trousers.

  He resisted palming it and set about his work, hoping his erection would go away if he focused on looking after Eloise. He took the pack off her shoulders, stripped off her harness and her cold damp clothes and her boots, leaving her in only her underwear, and then grabbed her orange sleeping bag and unzipped it. He laid it over her while he stripped off, kicking his boots across the cave and tossing his harness. He spread his thermal top and trousers over his pack so they would dry. His underwear joined them.

  Cavanaugh looked down at her. If she woke to find him naked, she wasn’t going to be very happy with him, but he didn’t have a choice. She needed warmth and he could give that to her. The quicker he could get her warm, the sooner she would recover.

  He rolled her over, so she was on her own sleeping bag, and unzipped his blue one. He settled her on top of it, laid down beside her and zipped the two sleeping bags together, making one big one. Once he had finished his task, he closed his eyes and focused.

  He ground his teeth and growled through his fangs as he began the transformation, his bones snapping out of place and reshaping, forming a new skeleton beneath his burning flesh. He snarled as quietly as he could to avoid disturbing her as a thick long tail sprouted from the base of his spine, and his feet and hands widened, his fingers and toes changing into soft claw-tipped pads. His face shifted, his jaw snapping out of place and growing wider as his cheeks puffed up and his nose flattened. His ears rang as they increased in sensitivity and moved upwards, becoming rounded as they settled on top of his head. Silver fur spotted with darker rosettes rippled over his body, thick and lush, designed to trap heat and keep him warm.

  Cavanaugh huffed as his transformation finished and shuffled closer to Eloise beneath the thick layer of the sleeping bags. He wrapped his body around her as much as he could, ensuring his fur would warm her, and curled his tail around her right leg.

  He licked the wound on her head, cleaning the blood away, and then the one on her arm. His saliva would help the cuts heal too, quickening the whole process. When he had finished, he looked down at her, every male instinct he possessed telling him that she was his mate, even though she didn’t know it.

  He fought the urge that welled up inside him but it was too strong and he gave in to it, rubbing his cheek against hers and then against her breasts, marking her with his scent. He wanted her to smell like him.

  He needed it.

  More than anything.

  He closed his eyes and savoured being so close to her, tucked against her side, feeling her breathing and her heart beating. She would be upset with him if she woke to find him holding her, and possibly embarrassed too, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t let her go. She felt too good pressed against him like this.

  It felt right.

  It felt as if he had found a vital piece of himself that had been lost for ten years, a piece that completed the shattered part of him and made it whole again. That part was his heart. Eloise had put it back together for him and it felt stronger than before.

  It rested in her hands and it always had. His mate had held it for decades without ever knowing it. His Eloise. He couldn’t hold back the truth any longer.

  When she woke, he would find a way to tell her.

  It was time she knew why he had gone away.

  It was time she knew that she was his fated mate.

  Chapter 9

  Eloise moaned and frowned. Her head throbbed, feeling as if someone had grabbed hold of it and shaken it so hard that her brain was still rattling around and banging against her skull. She winced and tried to open her eyes. Bright blue-white light assaulted them and she flinched away from it, jerking backwards.

  Into something solid and warm, and very male.

  Her eyes shot open and she went rigid as she realised that she was on Cavanaugh’s lap, in the cradle between his thighs as he sat cross-legged, his arms wrapped around her, holding her to his chest.

  Cavanaugh’s naked chest.

  Cavanaugh’s very naked lap.

  Her head shot up, an ache ricocheting across the back of her eyes in response, and she stilled. He wasn’t smirking at her as she had expected. He was sound asleep, his head resting against the dark rock wall behind him and his sensual lips parted as he breathed slowly. She looked down at herself, mortified to discover that he wasn’t the only one who was naked. She was only wearing her bra and knickers.

  Eloise grabbed the sleeping bag that was wrapped around them both, trying to cover herself. The frantic action jerked Cavanaugh forwards. His chin dipped towards his chest, and he grunted as he frowned and slowly opened his eyes. Hers shot wide.

  He smiled in exactly the mischievous way she had anticipated and did something that threatened to shatter her self-control.

  He tightened his grip on her, hauling her closer to him, the muscles of his arms bulging as he wrapped them around her.

  Heat scalded her cheeks.

  His smile widened. “No need to be embarrassed. We’ve shared body heat before… and in far more interesting ways.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Eloise pressed her hands to his chest and shoved, trying to break free of his grip.

  He didn’t let her go. He stared at her face and tipped his chin up in a short jerky motion. “Turn towards your right. I want to check your temple. You took a nasty knock. You had me worried.”

  Her heart warmed in her chest at the truth in those words as concern filled his grey eyes. She did as he wanted, turning her left cheek to him.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice failing her as his breath fanned across her cheek.

  He was leaning closer.

  She struggled to breathe normally as he brushed his lips across her temple, sending a hot shiver dancing through her, igniting the need she kept denying and elevating it to such a level that she wavered, on the brink of turning her face towards him. If she did, their lips would touch.

  Would he kiss her?

  Was that what she wanted?

  Yes, and no. She wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. She wanted the old Cavanaugh back, she wanted the future she had foolishly dreamed they would have, but she couldn’t have either of those things. She could never have them. He was her pride’s alpha now.

  “Eloise,” he husked, his voice deeper than she had ever heard it, filled with the desire that she could scent on him and could feel pressed against her right hip.

  “I was distracted,” she said, trying to distract herself again and pretend that he wasn’t aroused, and she wasn’t either, because this wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him, but not like this. Not when it would mean nothing. “It was my fault.”

  “Distracted?” His voice hadn’t risen above a wicked murmur that did funny things to her insides, heating them and making them flip and quiver. “I’m feeling distracted… gods, you feel good… better than I remembered.”

  She nodded and he groaned, and she cursed herself when she realised he thought she was nodding about feeling good in his arms. She had to get him thinking about something other than how close they were, and had to get herself to stop thinking about it at the same time. He felt too good against her, his hard body warming hers, his skin silken and tempting her into stroking her fingers over it.

  She swallowed hard, got a grip on herself and forced the words out. “I was distracted.”

  He rubbed his nose across her temple, nudging her, his breath hot and moist, tempting her into kissing him. “Distracted by what?”

&nb
sp; Her eyes slipped shut and she almost rubbed against him in return.

  Eloise found the strength to pull back from him, stopping him from rubbing and kissing her, teasing her into surrendering to him. It seemed that he was the only, constant source of distraction in her life.

  “You.” She looked away from him.

  “Then it was my fault.” He sounded normal again and she risked a glance at him, finding that he looked it too. He frowned at her and then sighed. “I should have known better than to talk while we were climbing… but I was enjoying it.”

  He had been enjoying it?

  She had been enjoying it too. For a moment, she’d had the old Cavanaugh back, and it had been wonderful.

  She stared into his eyes, wishing she were strong enough to ask him outright about what had happened between them and whether it had meant anything to him. She wasn’t though, not right now. He still had her muddled, unsure whether she was coming or going, but fighting her feelings every step of the way. She couldn’t give in to them, no matter how much she wanted to let everything go and have a moment of madness with him.

  Her feelings for him had never died, but they had never been this strong either. He had awakened them in her again and somehow he had made them grow, pulling her deeper under his spell and forging a stronger connection between them.

  He studied her face, his grey eyes sharp and focused.

  She wasn’t sure what to say to him. She wanted to say that she had been enjoying their easy banter too, but she couldn’t get the words out. She couldn’t lay her heart on the line again, not after what had happened and not when nothing could come of it.

  She could only be a temporary thing to him, not his sole female. He could never reciprocate the feelings she harboured for him.

  “How is your mother?”

  Those four words leaving his lips chilled her to her marrow and instantly extinguished all of the heat he had built inside her.

  She looked away from him, at her knees and his right arm. “She died six months after you left.”

  “Shit.” He drew her closer to him and her resistance crumbled as his heat encased her, his scent filling her nostrils and comforting her. She leaned her head on his left shoulder and pressed her forehead against his neck, and stared beyond his arm, at the corner of the cave. He sighed and stroked her left arm, the soft motion giving her something to focus on other than the pain that had bubbled up inside her heart on having to tell him what had happened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I hate that I wasn’t there for you, Eloise.”

  She did too.

  She turned her face towards him and fought the memories of that day and the ones that had followed it, and how much she had longed for Cavanaugh to be there, holding her as he was now, giving her the comfort and strength she had needed.

  He dropped his head and pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “Gods, I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin and clutched her closer. “I bet she was mad at me for leaving.”

  Eloise smiled at the harsh self-reproach in his voice and nodded. “She was angry with you.”

  He sighed. “Something in your tone says she was more than angry with me, and about more than me leaving. She made it pretty clear whenever she looked at me that she hated me after I had to take the position of alpha.”

  She tried to shake her head but barely shifted it. It felt too heavy, as weighed down as her heart was right now.

  He already knew the truth. There was little point in lying to him, even if saying it straight was disrespectful to him.

  “She didn’t hate you for taking the position… she hated you for leaving me.”

  He stilled right down to his breathing.

  Eloise wasn’t sure what to do. Part of her wanted to push out of his arms while he was distracted by what she had said, and the rest wanted to wrap her own arms around him and tell him she was sorry for dealing such a low blow. She didn’t know what she was doing anymore. She didn’t want to hurt him, but sometimes she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out one way or another. Ten years of pent up hurt wanted to burst out of her and she couldn’t hold it back.

  “Eloise…” His voice dropped an octave and he tried to pull her closer but she resisted, finally finding the strength to push him away and gain some space between them. His silver eyebrows dipped low above his grey eyes as they searched hers, darting from one to the other. “You really think I wanted to take that position… that I wanted to leave you?”

  Gods, she didn’t know what to think when he said things like that. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he had been as in love with her as she had been with him, and that it had hurt him too, but she couldn’t get past her own hurt.

  She couldn’t get past the pain of spending five years watching him with other women, and the next five alone and afraid, sure she would never see him again and would be the next to die at Stellan’s hands.

  She couldn’t get past how he had never tried to talk with her or let her know the things he was telling her now.

  “You do,” he whispered, resignation and pain surfacing in his eyes. “You really do.”

  “There’s nothing else for me to think.” She shoved out of his arms, fell onto her knees and wrestled free of the blankets.

  She shot to her feet, almost cracking her head on the low ceiling of the cave, and began to pace, hunched over and breathing hard, needing the space or she was going to explode. She wanted to turn on him and give him hell, just as she had wanted a million times before, but just like all those times, she reined in her anger and crushed it out of existence.

  Because he was her pride’s alpha.

  She could hate him all she wanted for what had happened, but she still had to respect him.

  “Eloise.” He reached for her.

  “Don’t Eloise me,” she snapped and paced away from him, towards the entrance of the cave where the air was chilly and fresh. She took deep breaths of it, using it to cool her head before she did something she would regret or said something she couldn’t take back.

  He lowered his hand onto the sleeping bag, over his knee, and heaved another sigh. “I left because of you.”

  Her lips parted. He had done what?

  She scowled at him. “No… you left because Stellan defeated you and you wanted to get away from being the alpha of the pride… you left because you hated it at the village… you…”

  “Left because I couldn’t bear seeing you drifting away from me.”

  She shook her head, a chill skating down her spine, and folded her arms across her chest. She rubbed them, trying to stop herself from feeling cold to the bone. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have left because of her. He just couldn’t. It was too much. How did he expect her to react to it? Why hadn’t he sought her out and told her why he was leaving? She might have stopped him.

  She might have gone with him.

  She shook her head again, tears burning her eyes. It was too cruel to say these things to her now, after everything she had been through because of him.

  “No… please, Cavanaugh… don’t lie to me.”

  Because she couldn’t bear it. It was tearing down her defences, even when it changed nothing. He utterly laid waste to what was left of her barriers when he rose onto his feet, the sleeping bags falling away to reveal his naked body.

  Her mouth went dry. She tried to look away but her eyes were too occupied with drifting over every inch of him, reacquainting herself with just how lean and powerful he was, honed and god-like, the epitome of a strong male.

  “Eloise,” he husked, burning her resolve to ashes, “I left because I wanted you and I couldn’t have you.”

  She barked out a short laugh at that, a bitter taste on her tongue as she glared at him. “You could have had me. You could have just ordered me into your bed.”

  His eyes darkened and she took a step back, a ripple of awareness travelling through her. She had pushed too far and too hard, and she had hurt him with her callous words
. Her Cavanaugh would never do such a thing. She knew it in her heart. He would never use the rules of their pride to force her to sleep with him.

  She had just put him on the same despicable level as Stellan.

  “I’m sorry.” She covered her mouth and shook her head, hating how feeble her apology sounded.

  His jaw tensed and he looked away from her, his gaze downcast. “I see. So… you’re bringing me back to the pride to trade one monster for another.”

  “No, Cavanaugh, that isn’t what I—”

  He silenced her with a glare, his eyes glowing silver around his wide pupils.

  “Shouldn’t you speak to me with a little more damned respect?” he barked and she took another step back. Her gaze darted to her feet, but not before she caught the regret that shone in his eyes. “I need some fucking air.”

  He swiped his trousers from the pile of clothing near their packs, pulled them on and strode towards her. She ducked to one side and pressed herself against the wall as he passed, and closed her eyes as he crawled through the entrance of the cave and disappeared from view.

  Eloise slid down the wall and onto her backside. She drew her knees up to her chest and stared at the wall opposite, listening to Cavanaugh as he paced the ledge outside the shelter. She wanted to apologise and explain, but he radiated fury at a level she could sense and her instincts were screaming a warning at her. She heeded them, willing to give him a moment to cool off because she knew he wouldn’t go anywhere without her.

  He was angry with her, but he wouldn’t leave her.

  Her mind drifted over everything he had said. He hadn’t wanted to be the pride alpha. He hadn’t wanted to leave her.

  But he had left her.

  He had left her without a word. Without a goodbye. It had cemented her feeling that he hadn’t cared about her, not in the way she cared about him. What if she had been wrong all these years?

  She had thought about going after him when he had left, but it had been dark, a moonless night, and Stellan had been swift to warn everyone that he would kill anyone he caught attempting to leave. She had never been as afraid as she had been that night—both for her own life and for Cavanaugh’s. Her mother had convinced her to wait until daybreak, and somehow she had managed it, only to find it snowing heavily. Even if she had managed to slip unnoticed from the village, she wouldn’t have been able to track him with the fresh powder covering his trail.

 

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