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Chapter 4: Mine
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2024-11-01 16:00:33*** Alpha King Draven’s POV
Rogues.
Kronos let out a low growl of disgust in my mind, his irritation clear.
I parked my car in the garage, stepping out into the chaos. Bodies were everywhere. The caravan had fought hard, taking down most of the rogues, but the losses were heavy.
The sight of it all stirred something deep within me. It wasn’t just anger—it was failure. A failure to protect what was mine.
She wasn’t even marked, Kronos snarled, his frustration matching my own.
Everywhere I looked, wolves lowered their eyes, unwilling to meet my gaze. No one had to say it—I already knew. I’d been too late. Again.
“Alpha, over here!” Simon’s voice called out sharply from the side of the building.
I rushed over, still caught in the chaos of the scene—the blood, the bodies, the overwhelming stench of death. But then it hit me.
Her scent.
It cut through everything, sharp and intoxicating. Sweet, yet with a bite that sent a jolt straight through me. My entire body tensed as it filled my lungs, and Kronos let out a howl that echoed through my mind.
Mate.
The word shook me to my core, and the world narrowed. Everything faded except that scent. It pulled at me, magnetic and undeniable, every fiber of my being drawn toward her.
Simon was already at the door, fiddling with the lock. The look in his eyes confirmed what I already knew. She’s in there.
Mine, Kronos growled, the possessiveness so intense it was almost painful.
The door creaked open, and her scent hit me like a tidal wave. It drowned out the metallic tang of blood, the carnage around us—everything. My chest tightened, a deep growl rumbling from within. I had to hold myself back, fighting the urge to storm in and claim her.
And then she appeared.
She stepped through the doorway, her head bowed, her neck bared in submission. Her amber eyes met mine, framed by ebony hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders.
I froze. My gaze locked onto the spot where my mark should go, the place that was meant to bind her to me forever. Kronos surged forward, the need to claim her roaring through me like a wildfire.
Her scent was everywhere, filling my senses, making it impossible to think. My hands clenched into fists, my muscles taut as I fought against the primal instinct to touch her, to make her mine.
Kronos growled, pushing at the edges of my control.
She’s in danger, I reminded myself, forcing the beast back down. Every bride I had ever marked had died. I couldn’t risk her—not her.
The thought was enough to snap me out of it. I exhaled shakily, forcing Kronos into the back of my mind, though he raged against the restraint.
Simon was speaking, but his words were distant, muffled, like I was hearing them through a thick fog. All I could focus on was her—the pull between us, the ache that grew stronger the longer I stood there.
“We have what we came for,” I said finally, my voice rough with effort.
“Simon,” I sent through the mind-link, the command sharp. “Escort her back.”
It took everything I had to watch her walk away. Each step she took felt like a knife twisting in my chest, the hollow ache growing worse with every inch of distance between us.
I couldn’t trust myself around her.
Not yet.
The ride back was torture. I rode in a separate car, needing the space to think—to stop myself from losing control. But every mile, every second that passed, the mate bond twisted tighter, pulling me toward her.
In the driver’s seat, my Gamma, Bryson, glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Objects in mirrors may be closer than they appear,” he teased, his grin sly.
I huffed, glaring at him. “Whatever.”
But he wasn’t about to let me off that easy.
“You’re staring holes into her car, Alpha,” he said, his tone light but pointed. “Didn’t take you for the brooding type.”
I scowled. “I should have picked her up myself,” I admitted quietly, my eyes fixed on the SUV carrying her.
Bryson chuckled, clearly amused. “That’s what’s got your hackles up? I thought you’d be relieved she’s safe, not simmering in guilt.”
“Keep your eyes on the road, Bryson,” I snapped, sidestepping the question.
But the guilt gnawed at me, relentless. I should have been there. I should have kept her safe from the start.
And the mate bond wasn’t helping. Every glance at her car made the pull stronger, the ache sharper.
“F*ing mate bond,” I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my seat.**
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