The Alpha's Greatest Revenge

Leah POV His eyes found mine across the rain-soaked porch and every wall I had built inside myself cracked at once. "You smell like five years of regret, Benedict," I said. I kept my hand on the cold handle of the clinic door. Rain beat a steady rhythm against the glass canopy above us. It filled the silence of the mountain evening. "Leah," he whispered. His voice was lower than I remembered. It was rough around the edges, carrying a deep rasp that vibrated right through the soles of my shoes. "I thought you were dead," he said. "Disappointed?" I turned my head just enough to catch his silhouette in the dim light of the lantern. He moved closer. The heat radiating off his body was obscene. He was bigger now, broader through the chest, carrying the heavy air of an Alpha King. But I did not care about his crown. I cared about the small boy sleeping inside the clinic, pale and burning with a fever no human doctor could fix. "Don't ever say that," Benedict said. He stopped two paces away. His golden eyes turned dark in the shadows. "I looked for you," he said. "Every single day." "You did not look hard enough." I turned to face him completely and crossed my arms over my chest. "Or maybe you just did not want to find the orphan with no wolf," I added. His jaw tightened. A muscle jumped near his ear. "I was an i***t," he said. "A stupid, proud boy listening to old men." "You were twenty-five, Benedict. Not a child." I stepped closer, looking straight up into his face. "You said you would rather die than be bound to me," I told him. "I just took you at your word and spared us both the funeral." He flinched as if I had struck him. For a second, his Alpha dominance flickered. A heavy wave of pressure pushed into the air, demanding submission. My body did not shake. I did not bow. He finally dropped his head and let out a long breath. "You have no right to come back into my territory and speak to me like this," he growled softly. "I am not here for you," I said coldly. "I am here for the rare blue-root herbs in your vault. My company paid your pack council a fortune for access to them." "Your company?" He frowned, sweeping his gaze down my tailored dark coat and polished leather boots. "You run the medical research empire from the coast?" he asked. "Surprise," I said with a flat smile. "The useless girl turned out to have a bite after all." The door behind me creaked open. Olivar stepped out into the damp air. His tall frame blocked the yellow light from the hallway. He did not pull a weapon, but his hands rested easily at his sides. "Everything alright out here, Leah?" Olivar asked. His voice was calm. It was a deep river compared to Benedict's fire. Benedict’s head snapped toward Olivar. The golden light in his eyes flared red. "Who the hell are you?" Benedict demanded. "I am the man who makes sure she gets back home safely," Olivar replied. He walked down the steps and stood beside me. He put a quiet, warm hand on the small of my back. Benedict stared at that hand. The air grew suffocatingly hot. The wild wolf inside him was screaming, furious that another man touched what the bond claimed was his. "Take your hand off her," Benedict snarled, his voice dropping into a full Alpha command. Olivar did not move. He looked at Benedict with steady eyes. "I take orders from Leah," Olivar said. "Not from you." "Stop it," I snapped, stepping between them. "Benedict, control yourself. You do not own this road, and you certainly do not own me." "He touches you like he has the right," Benedict growled. His golden eyes locked on mine now. "He has every right," I lied, keeping my expression like stone. "He was there when I had nothing. Where were you?" The question hit him hard. He took a step back, his shoulders tense. "Leah, please," he said. "Come inside. We need to talk about what happened that night." "We talked five years ago," I said, turning back toward the clinic door. "You spoke. I listened. Case closed." "Who is the boy inside?" Benedict asked suddenly. My heart stopped. The cool composure I had built over five years nearly cracked. I kept my back to him, praying the tremor in my breath did not show. "He is my patient," I said smoothly. "He has my eyes, Leah." Benedict's voice was right behind my ear now. He had moved without a sound. His warm breath touched the sensitive skin of my neck. The hidden mate bond inside my blood sang out like a struck bell. "I saw him through the window," Benedict whispered. "He has the exact shade of gold my father had." "Lots of wolves have gold eyes," I lied. I turned around to face him, forcing myself not to lean into his heat. "He is my son. That is all you need to know." "Is he mine?" Benedict asked. His hands came up, hovering just inches from my waist. They trembled with the urge to grab me. "Tell me the truth, Leah," he begged. "Look at me and tell me he is not mine." "He is mine," I said fiercely. I leaned into his space until our noses almost touched. "I raised him. I fed him. I bled for him while you were playing politics in your quiet little castle. He is not yours." Benedict closed the distance between us. He pinned me lightly against the wooden wall of the clinic door. Olivar stepped forward, but I held up a hand to stop him. This was between the past and me. "You smell different," Benedict whispered. His voice was dark and thick with sudden desire. He leaned down, pressing his nose right against the warm spot below my jawline. He inhaled deeply, a soft groan sliding from his throat. "You smell like crushed pine and ocean storms," he murmured. "You smell like my mate." "I am nobody's mate," I breathed out. My body betrayed me. A hot shudder ran down my spine as his lips brushed my neck. The old bond flared to life, burning through my veins like liquid fire. It melted the ice I had built around my heart for five long years. "Liar," he whispered against my skin. His hand came up, wrapping around my hip. He pulled my body tight against his hard frame. I could feel the ridge of his heavy arousal pressing against my thigh through our clothes. He was burning up, driven wild by the scent of the female he thought he had lost forever. "You feel it too," he said. "Your heart is hammering like a trapped bird." "Let go of me, Benedict," I gasped. My fingers twitched against his chest, wanting to grip his shirt instead of pushing him away. "Make me," he whispered. He slid his hand up under my coat, resting his warm palm over the curve of my waist. He tilted my head back with his other hand. His thumb traced my lower lip. "Tell me you don't want me to kiss you right here in the rain," he said. "I hate you," I whispered, looking straight into his burning golden eyes. "Good," he said. His lips hovered an inch from mine, his breath hot and heavy. "Hate me all you want, Leah. But don't lie about what we are. Don't lie about our boy." "He needs the blue-root medicine," I said. My voice cracked under the weight of his body pressed so tightly against mine. "If you have any soul left inside you, open your vaults. Save him. Then let us leave." Benedict pressed his hips closer, grinding his hard length against me just enough to make me catch my breath. He was reminding me of the sheer power he held over my body. He pulled back an inch, his golden eyes wide with wild hunger and deep pain. "He can have whatever he needs," Benedict said softly, his chest heaving. "The whole pack can burn if it saves him. But you are not leaving me again, Leah. Not this time." He released me slowly, taking a step back into the dark rain. His eyes never left my face. Olivar immediately moved to my side, placing a protective arm around my shoulders. Benedict glared at Olivar's arm. His fangs lengthened slightly over his lower lip, but he did not attack. "Bring the boy to the main house," Benedict commanded. His voice echoed in the quiet night air. "The clinic is too cold. He will stay under my roof, where the heat is kept high." "We stay here," I said, straightening my coat. "It was not a request, Leah," Benedict said. He turned his back to walk toward his heavy black truck. He paused at the driver's door and looked back over his shoulder. "If my son dies because you were too proud to sleep under my roof, that death is on your hands," he said. He got into the truck and slammed the door. The heavy engine roared to life before tearing down the mud road toward the center of the territory. I stood on the wet porch, my body still shaking from his touch. The taste of his breath still hung on my lips. "Are you okay?" Olivar asked softly. His hand was gentle on my shoulder. "I am fine," I said. I took a deep breath of the damp mountain air to clear the heavy scent of Benedict from my lungs. "Get Ethan packed up," I told him. "We are moving to the main house." "Leah, you don't have to walk into his trap," Olivar warned. "We can find the herbs somewhere else." "There is no somewhere else," I said. I looked back at the darkened clinic window where my son lay waiting. "He has the cure, Olivar," I whispered. "And I will burn his whole world down before I let him take my son."