All Chapters of The Alpha's Pen Pal: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

WESLEY POV As my eyes opened back in the temple on Earth, I felt the shaking body of my mate next to me and smelled the salt of her tears as they fell from her eyes. She curled into me; her face burrowing into my chest and her arms clinging to my neck and shoulders. Her conflicted emotions flooded to me through the mate bond, and I wrapped myself around her more, pulling her naked body as close to mine as I could, protecting her from the rising sun and the cool early morning air. My hand reached for a fur blanket and pulled it over us to hide our nakedness, even though I could sense we were alone in the temple. My hand rubbed the back of her head in long, soothing strokes, down through the ends of her curls. I could feel every bittersweet emotion from her, embedding into me like shards of a broken mirror, reminding me that this was a pain I could not fix. This was a pain she would carry our whole lives together. The pain of knowing her mother loved her and watched her for her whole

HAVEN POV “I never said John was Lennox’s father,” Melissa said, her harsh laugh still ringing in my ears. It took a few seconds for my mind to catch up with my ears and for her words to make sense in my brain. I was still reeling from the revelation that she was actually Lennox’s mom. That the whole time I knew her and knew him, he was her son. I thought back over the years, over all our interactions and her interactions with him, and it all made sense. The way she treated him, the way they were always so close. And of course, how they always wanted us together, always emphasized how we’d make such a cute couple. But that didn’t answer the question of who his father was. “So then, who is his father?” King Malachi said, his voice deep and authoritative, the way it had been when he’d questioned Sarina earlier and asked Melissa about why Lennox’s father wanted us to be mates so badly. The power behind it made my bones vibrate, and every wolf in the room with us tensed every time he

WESLEY POV There were varying reactions to Pierce’s preposterous challenge, but most of them included some degree of a snarl or a growl. The loudest was mine, of course, but Nolan’s, Sebastian’s, and Reid’s were all a near match of hostility and volume. How dare he. How dare he challenge me for the woman who was rightfully mine. For the mate Selene had honored me with. She had chosen me for Haven, for her daughter, and I would not let anyone take her away from me. Not again. Not in this lifetime or the next. I moved Haven behind my body, my hands still on her hips, her hands resting on the small of my back and her head peeking over my shoulder. There was a flurry of noise and movement around us, but my cold focus was only on the bag of scum in front of me. “What the hell does that mean?” Haven asked me. “He wants me to fight him for you,” I explained to her, my voice low and tight. She tensed, her hands clutching at my shirt. “Can he do that? Try to claim me that way?” she whispe

HAVEN POV I sat stiff and rigid in the chair next to Wesley’s hospital bed, his hand held in mine and my thumb stroking his skin in slow, smooth strokes. The bond would help him heal, but it was also helping me not have another massive freak out while I sat with him in the pack’s hospital. Dr. Russo had patched him up in almost no time, but he had to re-break Wesley’s foot because the bones had already started to heal in the wrong position. He’d tried to refuse any sedation, but with the damage to his ribs and lungs, they had to give him general anesthesia in order to repair all of it. Now he was in the bed, still asleep, but healing. Hopefully, he would wake up soon. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. His scent was still mixed with the antiseptic and medicinal smells of the hospital, the ones that always sent me into a spiral of depressive thoughts. But his scent was still there, still stronger than those other smells, keeping me in the present and not letting me return to

HAVEN POV The ghost of Wesley’s touch lingered on my skin, warm and soothing, and the whisper of his breath tickled the hair on my neck. My heart fluttered and raced in my chest, still pounding from the rush of our intimacy and the overwhelming pleasure from him marking me. I stretched, inhaling the hint of jasmine and vanilla and luxuriating in the feel of the soft blankets around my body. But where I thought I would meet Wesley’s chest with my back, there was only emptiness, vast and cold. My eyes blinked open, and I sat up, my heart now racing for a completely different reason. My clammy hands wiped against the blankets — no — the dress somehow on my body. The same dress I had worn at the temple in Greece, and during our visit with Selene. I stood to my feet, gathering the fabric in my hands as I did, scanning my surroundings. I pivoted in place, looking around me until my eyes landed on the temple. Selene’s temple. My mother’s temple. Everything was identical to how it was the