Alpha Betrayed: A Dark Shifter Romance

juliet

The bed-and-breakfast isa little shabby on the inside, with worn antiques in the small lobby and faded flower wallpaper that's peeling in one corner. But the front desk is clean and the manager friendly as she shows us up to a tiny room on the fourth floor. She pushes the door open, gesturing toward the sloped ceilings on either side. "Your boyfriend will have to watch his head up there. I would have given you two a room on the ground floor with a higher ceiling, but a man rented the last one just thirty minutes before you came in. Sorry about that." "No worries," Ford says. "I can duck down at the edges and we're just looking to get some rest, anyway."

"And it's so pretty up here." I wander into the room, drawn by the amazing garret window on the other side. I glance back to where Ford and the older woman with the lightly graying brown hair still stand in the door. "Get a load of that view."

The woman beams. "I love it. This is my favorite room in the whole house. I stay up here when I want to feel like a starving artist in a fantastic Paris studio for a night."

Ford nods and murmurs, "It's beautiful," but he isn't looking at the view.

His eyes are all for me and I suddenly can't wait to be alone with him.

This is what we need, just a few hours alone together to prove to him that our connection is as strong as ever. I might not have the same memories as I did before, but I'm still the same person, and I adore him.

I more than adore him. I'm head over heels for this man. I feel so connected to him that it's like his every thought and feeling echoes through my skin. And I know that isn't just because he's gorgeous and sexy and has the kind of smartass sense of humor I'm pretty sure I've always preferred. This is something bigger than a crush or puppy love.

I'd bet my right hand that Ford is my fated mate, the one man in the whole world who's better suited to me than any other. We were meant to have an epic love story, and I'm not going to let either one of us miss out on that because a monster tried to murder him, and I lost my memory saving his life.

"All right, then," the woman says with a knowing smile. "I'll leave you two alone to rest and enjoy the room. If you're hungry later, we serve tea and cookies in the lobby at three and my husband does a wine tasting at six on the back patio."

"Thank you," Ford says as she shuts the door. He locks it behind her before turning back to me, heat and anxiety mixing on his handsome face.

I pull the condom box from my jeans and drop it casually on the bedside table before crossing back to lean against the wall by the window, giving him some space. "Putting those there just in case. But we don't have to rush into anything if you're not ready. We could just lie down on the bed and...talk." "We should talk," Ford says. "But not on the bed."

I glance around the room before turning back to Ford with an arched brow. "Well, considering you're going to hit your head on the ceiling if we sit on the sofa or at the little table in the corner, I guess we should sit here? On the window seat?" "You can sit," he says, staying where he is. "I'll stand."

"Okay." I perch on the window seat with a sigh, wondering if he's always been this dramatic or if this is a new development in the wake of our near-death experiences. "What's on your mind?"

"I told you before. We've never slept together."

I nod. "I know. And I can understand why we wanted to wait, but the situation has changed. I trust you, Ford. I know you want more from me than proximity to my throne." I shrug. "And if I ever change my mind about that, I can always kick you out of my bed. It's not a big deal."

He exhales. "But it is. You told me it was. Before."

"Okay. Can you explain why? Help me understand?" I force a serious expression onto my face, though I honestly can't imagine why I would have cared so much.

S*x isn't a big deal for shifters. We aren't as uptight about those kinds of things as humans and our immune systems destroy STDs on contact. There's literally no reason to hold back unless you're worried about getting emotionally attached to someone who doesn't feel the same way about you.

And I have zero concerns about that with Ford.

I can feel how much he cares about me. He's proving it right now, resisting something I have no doubt he wants as much as I do out of concern for the way I used to feel.

"It's not just that you and I haven't been together," he says. "It's that you've never been with...anyone."

My brows shoot up so fast my hairline twitches. "What?"

"You're a virgin. You told me you couldn't have casual s*x with me because a person's first time is never casual."

"Woah." I slump on the seat, cold despite the sunlight warming my back. "That's...weird."

"It's not weird. You just had firm boundaries about things like that."

"No, it's weird. I'm twenty-three, right? That's what you said?" He nods and I shake my head harder. "Yeah, that's weird. I'm a shifter, I don't have chronic halitosis, and I find s*x very interesting. There's no way my virginity should have survived past sixteen or seventeen, let alone twenty-three." I narrow my eyes on his. "Did something bad happen at Zion? When I was younger? Something to make me scared of letting my guard down with men?"

He stretches his neck to one side, avoiding eye contact. "No, not that I know of. But your dad was protective. And terrifying. And Alpha of the pack. I'm sure all of that discouraged guys who might have wanted to sleep with you."

"Okay, but I went to college for a while. Right?" I lean to one side, trying to catch his eye, but he only glances my way for a second before averting his gaze again. "Why didn't I make up for lost time while I was there?"

"You had a boyfriend," he says. "But you said you knew it wasn't going to last long term. And like I said, you had control issues, and they only got more intense after you left college."

"Why did I leave?" I ask. "My instinct is that I like learning new things. Did I pick the wrong major or something? I would assume that I decided to transfer to Lost Moon, but the timeline doesn't match up. What happened for the two or three years in between leaving human school and transferring to Lost Moon this summer?"

He tips his head back, his throat working as he stares at the ceiling. "I don't want to tell you."

"Because it was bad," I whisper.

"Really bad," he confirms, finally shifting his focus back to my face. "It f****d you up. A lot. And rightfully so."

"But it won't f**k me up now, Ford," I say. "Hearing that something bad happened to you is different than remembering it. Like when you told me that Hammer wants to kill me. Intellectually, I realize that I got dealt a shitty hand if that's the kind of father I have, but it didn't affect me emotionally. I don't remember being raised by him or spending time with him or craving his approval. When I saw his face, all I felt was pretty certain that we shared DNA. That's it. That old past can't hurt me."

"But you're angry with him. You'll help kill him if you get the chance," he counters. "So, you do feel some kind of way about it."

"I'm angry because of the injustice of it all. Fathers shouldn't try to murder their daughters, right? I mean, people shouldn't murder other people, period, but especially not people they chose to bring into the world. But I'm angry about it in the same way I'd be angry if I read an article about abused kids. It's infuriating, but...distant."

He chews on the inside of his lip. "I can see your point, I just..." He sighs. "I guess I don't want to be the one to tell you. I don't want that story linked with me in your mind for the rest of your life."

I roll that over in my head, seeing his point. "Well, is there any reason I have to know what happened? Am I in any danger from that part of my past?"

He seems to consider that, then shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. I think everyone from that situation has...moved on."

"Moved on, huh?" I huff. "Did you personally move them on?"

"No comment," he says. "But they all deserved to be moved on. Don't doubt that for a second."

"Okay." I nod for another beat, then lift my hands at my sides, palms facing the slanted ceiling. "Then I vote that we let it go and revisit the missing years at a later date if necessary." I stand, swaying toward him. "I also vote that we relax and start making up for lost time."

He watches me cross the room, hunger in his eyes, but when I stop in front of him, he doesn't reach for me. "Promise me you won't hate me later. If you regain your memories and you start to feel differently about s*x and control and...me. Promise me you'll remember that I was as honest as I could be without bringing up every ugly thing from your past."

I reach up, cupping his face gently in my hand. "I don't think I'm going to regain my memories, Ford. I'm sorry about that. I know there's a part of you that really wants me to, but they feel like they're locked away somewhere I can't reach. Somewhere I might never be able to reach."This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

"But a part of me doesn't want you to remember, too," he says, his voice rough. "I wouldn't wish some of those memories on my worst enemy. I just... The person you were before. God knows, you weren't perfect." He laughs. "And sometimes you drove me f*****g crazy, but I just..."

I brush my thumb over his cheek, where his whiskers have grown prickly after a day in his human body without a razor. "You just loved her," I finish for him. "I know. I can feel it when you touch me. How much you loved me before and how confused you are about what we are to each other now." I step closer, tilting my head back and lifting my lips to his. "But you don't have to decide how to feel forever right now. We can just be together and comfort each other and make a beautiful new memory. I think you deserve one of those. I think we both do."

His eyes shine as he says, "But I have baggage, Juliet, and you don't. I remember it all. Every word, every touch, everything you made me feel."

"I know," I whisper. "And that's not fair. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "I don't care about fair. I just don't want you to think I'm crazy if this gets a little more...emotional for me than it might be for you."

"Oh, it's going to be emotional for me," I say, my breath coming faster as he moves close enough for his strong chest to brush against my already tight nipples through my t-shirt. "I loved you the second I saw you running toward me on the beach, before I even knew you were a shifter. Your soul, your being, is so important to me, Ford. I get it, and I'm never going to think you're crazy."

He arches what I can tell he intends to be a teasing brow, but his still-shining eyes steal the levity from the moment. "Never?"

I smile. "I guess you should never say never. If you don't pick me up and throw me on that bed pretty soon, I might start to question your mental health. Just a little bit."

He bends low enough to hook his hands behind my knees, lifting me into the air with a confidence that makes my heart swoop. I wrap my legs around his waist, a moan of relief vibrating my throat as I feel him long and hot beneath his jeans. "Then, to the bed it is," he says.

He kisses me, deep and hard, unleashing all the need he's been holding back and instantly, I'm on fire... Almost literally.

"Sorry," I say, giggling as he curses and tosses me onto the bed with a bit more speed than I think he intended. "I forgot that happens. I can tone it down, I promise," I say, taking a deep breath and rein in my fire until it glows a soft, respectable, frisky phoenix pink. I brush my hair over my shoulder and shoot him a playful grin. "See? Now I'm not too hot to handle."

"You're always too hot to handle," he says as he tackles me on the mattress, his lips tangling with mine as his weight settles on top of me. I wrap myself around him like an octopus about to rip a clam from its shell, fierce and determined and starved for the treasure inside.

But I don't want to rip Ford apart.

I want to put him back together again.

I want to heal the places that hurt, soothe his tortured soul, and calm his fears. I want to show him that there's nothing to be afraid of when we're together. Whether I remember what came before or not, I'm still someone he can count on. I'm a person who loves him and values him and will never let him down, no matter what.

I funnel all those feelings, every sacred promise in my heart, into my kiss, into my hands as I help him dispose of his clothes and pull him back against me, relishing the feel of his bare skin against mine.

I cradle his head and arch into his mouth as he teases my nipples with his teeth and tongue, wishing we could swap bodies, just for a few minutes, so he could feel what he does to me. The way he makes me burn and ache, but also the joy he sends bubbling from the deepest places inside.

Ford calls to my soul, to the eternal part of me that isn't male or female or shifter or human, to the part that's everything, all at once. The part that knows that separation is an illusion and unity is truth.

In the mystical realm, all is one.

Making love to Ford affirms that in a way that's humbling and beautiful and ultimately...destructive.

Ancient myths are full of gods and goddesses that both create and destroy. I should have realized that love could do the same.

I destroyed myself for love.

And now Ford is bringing me back.

I arch beneath him, my eyes squeezing shut as the walls and floors and elevator shafts inside me crumble in the face of the earthquake that is our connection, destroying the barriers between past and future.