The Alpha's and Their Assassin Mate

Chapter 3

Jason’s POV

Arms loaded with warm blankets, I made my way down the hallway toward Max’s room. The hospital lights buzzed overhead, too bright and too sharp after two days spent in the dim, quiet cocoon of her space. Out here, everything felt exposed — like the world hadn’t gotten the memo that she’d almost died.

Inside her room, the air softened. The lighting dipped into something gentler, and the antiseptic bite faded beneath the lavender pouch Sherry insisted Max keep under her pillow. It wasn’t much, but it made Max feel better, so it stays.

Zane had tried to throw the pouch away earlier. The man had a personal vendetta against clutter — or maybe it was Beast who did, hard to tell with them. But Max had given him her “don’t you dare” look, the one that could stop a rogue mid‑lunge, and he’d tucked the pouch right back into place without another word.

Ajax stirred in the back of my mind. “He hates clutter. But Max… she makes even clutter feel important.”

“She scares him more than clutter does,” I replied.

Ajax chuckled. “True.”

I set the blankets on a chair just as Luke stepped forward, Asher in his arms. The kid looked impossibly small against Luke’s broad chest.

“Here,” Luke said quietly. “Take little man. I need to step out.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” I said with a smile as I reached out for my son.

Asher blinked up at me with those big gray eyes — curious, soft, trusting — and something inside me cracked open all over again. His tiny fingers curled into my shirt like he already knew I was his.

Ajax’s voice softened. “Our son.”

Across the room, Zane had Kelly stretched across his legs, and the big, terrifying Alpha was cooing at her. Actually cooing. She smiled up at him like he’d hung the moon.

I couldn’t wait to give him hell for it.

Steam drifted from the open bathroom in slow, rolling waves. Luke had just stepped back inside when Max appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a towel that clung to her curves, damp strands of fiery red hair sticking to her neck and shoulders.

She knocked the air out of my lungs. Her skin still held the warmth of the bath, a soft glow rising along her collarbones.

Ajax stirred, his presence warming the back of my mind. “Mate looks well.”

“Agreed,” I answered.

Max’s blue eyes swept the room with that instinctive awareness she never lost, even exhausted. She searched for her pups first — always the pups — and when her gaze found them, her shoulders eased. She stepped farther into the room, the towel shifting against her skin, and when her eyes finally lifted to mine, she gave me a small, tired smile meant only for me.

I couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped me.

Dean and Luke were already there, hovering like she was made of glass. They moved carefully, too carefully, helping her into a soft T‑shirt and sweats. She tolerated it for a few seconds — jaw tight, patience thinning — before she slapped their hands away and finished dressing herself with a muttered curse.

I laughed under my breath. She shot me a look most would cower from.

She tugged the shirt down, fingers trembling just slightly — not enough for anyone else to notice, but I saw it. The exhaustion clung to her like a second shadow, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

A memory flickered — the first time we saw her. Blood‑soaked, barely conscious, surrounded by the bodies of more than a dozen rogues she’d taken down alone. Luke had carried her home that night. We didn’t know she was a dormant dual shifter then — white tiger and dragon, both are as rare as a solar eclipse. We just knew she was ours. A storm we never saw coming.

Now she was here — our Luna, the mother of our twins — and the sight of her still humbled me.

She reached me and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, lingering just long enough to make my heart stutter. Then she pulled back and winked, like she knew exactly what was running through my head. She always did.

Max lowered herself onto the bed with a quiet wince. Dean reached to help her again, and she slapped his hand away without looking.

Classic Max.

She adjusted the blanket around her waist, fingers brushing the fabric like she needed the grounding. Her breathing steadied, but her eyes flicked toward the twins again — a quick, instinctive check, like she needed to confirm they were still there, still safe.

Ajax murmured, “She watches them like she fears they will vanish.”

“She’s lost her pups before,” I reminded him. “She needs reassurance.”

He hummed, quiet and protective.

Max’s gaze drifted back to me, softer now, and something in my chest tightened all over again.

She was here. She was alive. And she was ours.

Max adjusted the blanket around her waist, settling back against the pillows with a slow exhale. “I’m starving,” she said, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Can you get me something to eat?”

She could’ve asked for the moon. We would’ve tried to fetch it.

Dean didn’t even hesitate. “Of course. Rest while we get you something, Little Star.” He was already halfway to the door, shoulders squared like he’d just been given a sacred mission.

I grinned. We’d all ended up with nicknames for her — Dean’s Little Star, Zane’s mi alma, Luke’s secret one he refused to reveal. Mine was still in progress. Something that captured her fire and her bite and the way she stole my breath without trying.

“You deserved the bite. Teaches you not to steal food from our mate,” Ajax grumbled.

I never knew a wolf to have a pet peeve. Ajax, his is when I take food from Max’s plate, even if she’s done eating. To a wolf, you feed your mate and, if they’re done, you shove the rest down their throat until the plate is empty.

“That’s not true. You may hurt her doing that,” Ajax teased. “Although, mate does need to eat more.”

I chuckled. Told you.

Max’s stomach growled again, a soft, stubborn little protest, and she lifted her chin like she could intimidate her own body into behaving. Zane stepped forward, brushing a kiss against her lips before smoothing a hand over her damp hair. She leaned into the touch, exhaustion softening her edges.

Before he could step away, she caught his wrist.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft, but the weight behind it settled the room. Her gaze swept over each of us — slow, deliberate, full of something that made my chest tighten. “Thank you. For not giving up. For fighting when I couldn’t. For making sure I’m still here to see our children.” Her voice wavered, just barely. “I never thought I’d have this again… and I know it’s because of all of you. I love you.”

The words hit like a warm punch to the chest while Zane’s expression softened in a way he’d deny until the end of time. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest — right over his heart, right where Beast paced beneath the surface. He always did that with her. Like he needed the contact to stay steady, we all did.

“Mi alma,” he murmured. “You don’t owe us anything. You’re the one who fought through hell.”

Luke’s smile was the brightest I’d seen in months. “You don’t have to thank us,” he said gently. “We’d fight for you a thousand times over.”

Zane stepped aside to make room for Dean and Luke, muttering something halfway between a scoff and a growl — his wolf torn between pride and irritation at being thanked. But even he couldn’t hide the way his gaze lingered on her, softer than he’d ever admit.

The tension in the room thickened — emotional, heavy, too much for Max in her current state — so I cut through it the only way I knew how.

“Yeah,” I said, lifting a brow. “We’re just the glorified food‑fetchers trying not to get stabbed.”

Max rolled her eyes. “If you bring me hospital Jell‑O, I will stab you.”

Ajax snorted. “She should anyways, you’d probably deserve it.”

I ignored Ajax and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Max let out a soft laugh. It is worth every threat.

I never joked this much before she came into my life. Humor had always been my armor, my way of smoothing edges and hiding cracks. But the first time I heard her laugh, something in me shifted. Now I’d say the dumbest s**t just to hear it again.

Ajax murmured, “She gives us a reason to laugh. She is the light in our darkness.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Max’s gaze drifted to Luke. “Can you stay with me?”

Ajax muttered, “Lucky bastard.”

“Always,” he said, grinning, hearing Ajax’s comment. He reached for Kelly, but Zane’s growl cut him off, sharp and territorial, a clear no.

Luke froze mid‑reach, hands up like he’d just been caught stealing from a dragon’s hoard. “Alright, alright,” he muttered then grinned. “You know you can’t take her out of the room.”

I rolled my eyes, “he sure knows how to poke the bear.”

Instead, Luke leaned in to kiss Kelly’s forehead earning another growl from Zane.

Kelly let out a tiny cry, a soft, wounded little sound that made all of us tense. Before anyone could react, something soft and round flew across the room.

The tummy pillow smacked Luke square in the face.

He blinked, stunned. “What the hell was that for?”

Max crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. “Zane just got her to sleep, and you almost woke her up.”

Her voice had that edge — the one that said she was two seconds from shifting into her dragon form and burning someone’s eyebrows off. Momma dragon was awake, and she was not playing.

Ajax hummed in the back of my mind. “As long as we’re not next.”

“For once,” I agreed. “It isn’t directed at us.”

“At you,” he corrected. “I don’t partake in your mischief.”

I snorted.

Luke opened his mouth to defend himself — mistake number one — and a hairbrush sailed through the air like it had been fired from a crossbow.

Zane caught it one‑handed without jostling Kelly, setting it calmly back on the table like this was normal behavior.

Dean leaned toward me, whispering, “She’s still got her aim.”

“Good,” Zane said, mouth curving. “I’d worry if she didn’t.”

Max smirked, eyes glinting. “Keep underestimating me, and I’ll show you how much aim I’ve got left.”

Dean softened instantly. “No one here doubts you, Little Star.”

“Which is why we’d better bring back the right food,” I said, lifting a brow. “Otherwise, it’s been nice knowing you all.”

Zane clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing once. “Then move your ass, brother, before she eats one of us instead.”