Born For The Alpha

Fated Mates Cross Paths - 2

Arda’s mind raced as the stranger’s voice resonated in her ears. Where had she heard that deep, cultured yet rough voice before? She wondered, her pulse quickening.

“I almost had it before you… you stole it.” Her words were sharp, but her voice faltered slightly.

Gillow barely registered her accusation. He was too preoccupied with how her beauty unsettled him. The fact that she had no idea who he truly was—who they were to each other—made it even more frustrating. Their meeting tonight was a twist of fate, but it left him marveling at how their lives were entwined.

And yet, she didn’t even realize she stood before her mate. Her Alpha.

A small, knowing smile crept onto his lips as his gaze traveled slowly over her form. The day he claimed her, her cries of pleasure would echo in his ears. He had no doubt.

Arda shivered under his intense gaze, feeling as though he had stripped her bare without even touching her. Her cheeks burned, and she struggled to maintain her composure.

Damn, he was handsome—rugged and raw. Thank God it was dark, so her blush wouldn’t betray her.

Desperate to cling to her anger, she squared her shoulders and refocused.

Without another word, he turned and walked toward the downed pig.

“What are you doing?” Arda demanded, spinning around to face him.

“Picking up my kill,” he said casually, not even breaking stride.

Arda’s temper flared. She bolted past him and planted herself protectively in front of the pig, her feet firmly rooted to the ground.

Gillow paused, amusement flickering in his eyes as he took in her defensive stance. He approached slowly, keeping his expression unreadable.

“I cannot let you have it,” she declared, her voice trembling just slightly.

He stopped across from her, the pig lying motionless between them.

“And you think I would let you take my kill?” His voice was calm, almost playful.

“It is mine.” She held her ground.

“No, it’s mine.” His tone remained cool, but his eyes darkened. Then his voice dropped lower, steady and firm. “For a young woman out here alone with a strange man in the woods, you do have some guts.”

Arda’s confidence wavered as fear crept into her expression for the first time. His words carried a subtle menace that made her stomach tighten.

She swallowed. “I’m not alone,” she said, but her voice betrayed her.

Suddenly, the pig’s importance faded. Her instincts screamed caution.

Gillow silently approved of her fear. It was a reminder of the danger lurking in the world. She had been too bold, too trusting. She needed to learn to protect herself—for him and for her loved ones.

“I have to go now,” Arda said, her voice unsteady. She watched his eyes flick briefly to the pig before locking back onto hers.

“You don’t want the game anymore, I see.” His tone was calm, almost teasing.

“Please, let me go.” Arda’s fear spiked. Her breathing quickened, but he didn’t move aside. Instead, a small grin spread across his lips, dark and knowing.

Despite her ear defenders, the distant howling of wolves reached her. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Arda turned and bolted in the direction she had come from. She barely reached the edge of the clearing when strong arms yanked her backward, slamming her against a firm, muscled chest.

Her scream died in her throat as a large hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled, but he moved with swift precision, dragging her effortlessly before pinning her against a tree.

Her back pressed against the rough bark, and he loomed in front of her, caging her in with nothing but his sinewy body. Her terrified eyes met his, pleading silently as tears pooled in her lashes.

Gillow felt his control waver as mercy battled with his darker instincts. Her fear stirred something protective within him, but her scent…

His nostrils flared. Her blood—rich and tantalizing—filled the air, calling to him.

Damn it.

B positive. The most irresistible blood type for his kind. Of course, his mate had to carry it.

His jaw tightened as he wrestled down the hunger. All these years, he hadn’t bothered to know that part of her. Now he knew it was a problem.

He hadn’t prepared for this part.

Gillow leaned in, inhaling the scent of her neck deeply, and fought to suppress the hunger clawing at him. His mouth hovered near her ear, his warm breath brushing her skin.

“I will take my hand off your mouth,” he whispered roughly, “and you will be as quiet as a mouse. If you make a noise, you will regret it immediately. Is that clear?”

Arda’s head bobbed in a series of frantic nods, and Gillow slowly removed his hand.

“Please, I want to go,” she pleaded. Her voice trembled, but her fear only softened Gillow’s resolve. He had already scared her enough to make his point, and too much fear could be damaging. She would soon be his mate, and he wanted her trust—not terror.

“Your actions just now were without wisdom. Do you know that?” he said, his tone gentler but still commanding.

Arda blinked in surprise. Instead of harming her, he seemed intent on correcting her behavior. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as she’d thought—or maybe it was too soon to judge. She was still entirely at his mercy.

The reality of her poor judgment hit her hard. She knew better than to approach a stranger alone, especially one armed, in the middle of a forest at night. Shame welled up inside her as she nodded in acknowledgment.

“I want to hear words,” Gillow demanded, his voice firm, making her heart pound even harder.

“I shouldn’t have approached a stranger alone because they might be dangerous,” she said shakily.

“Good,” he said. “But I prefer this version: ‘I will observe my safety and never run blindly into a dangerous situation again.’ Repeat it.”

Arda swallowed and obeyed. “I will observe my safety and never run blindly into a dangerous situation again.”

“You’re a fast learner,” Gillow said with approval. “Now, what should I do to you if we have another episode?”

Arda wanted to tell him to go to hell, but her trembling voice failed her. Right now, she was entirely at his mercy.

“I don’t think we’ll cross paths again,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady.

“Is that so?” he scoffed, his sharp gaze holding hers. “We’ll see about that.”

He studied her closely, admiration mingling with frustration. The gods had chosen well, but their choice came with complications. Her blood type—B positive—was his greatest weakness. Its allure tested his control, yet somehow, he resisted. For now.

He stepped back, giving her just enough space to slip away. “Run,” he ordered.

She stood frozen, fear locking her limbs in place. Her gaze flicked toward the fallen pig. Hunger and desperation flared briefly in her eyes before she looked back at him.

“Really?” His voice dripped with disbelief.

“I… I did see it first,” she stammered, barely above a whisper.

His expression darkened, a silent warning that sent her scrambling backward. Her feet moved before her mind caught up, and she bolted into the woods, disappearing from sight.

Gillow watched her go, fighting the urge to chase. She was reckless, stubborn, and entirely too tempting.

She thought their paths were truly done crossing, but he knew this was only the beginning.