The Wilder Alpha (7 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Soreness throbbed down Kristi’s arms, up her back, and sunk into her gut. Fresh pain didn’t lace over her body, though. Perhaps, it was a sign that the fighting ceased.

Or, maybe, Jay was dead.

The thought slammed into Kristi’s head just as she pushed through her doorway. She stilled her nausea as her body worked on autopilot. Her room was a small cavern with a thick hide acting as a curtain between her space and the rest of the world. The thick panel of wood, which acted as a door, wedged tightly into the entryway and weighed on the bottom of the curtain, making it virtually impossible to get in without Kristi’s knowledge. She shifted the makeshift wooden door into place. She didn’t want anyone walking in on her while her inner turmoil took over. Looking weak, while in position of beta, wasn’t advisable.

With the corridor torchlight sufficiently blotted out with the door, darkness filled her room. A small hole near the ceiling filtered in gentle starlight, but it wasn’t nearly enough for the human eye. Good thing Kristi’s eyes weren’t human. She blinked as she adjusted to the darkness, but she trudged to the large pile of pelts on the far side of the room. She didn’t need sight in her own domain.

She sagged to the pelts and her yellow eyes dully flicked around the room. The pain throbbed up and down her body, mostly in her shoulders. Since she had stormed out of the underground holding cell, she hadn’t had any contact from Jay. – not even a dream walk. Kristi hadn’t expected anything, but her draw to him ached for
something
.

Despite their time away from each other, the connection strengthened. Kristi began to recall things Jay never told her. She could picture his home, his room, back in that metal can he called a cavern. A stark contrast splayed in her mind. Her minimalist room, with one trunk for clothing she deemed wearable, seemed bare compared to Jay’s possessions. In her mind’s eye, she saw a bed strewn with blankets, a wooden trunk built into a wall that overflowed with clothes, and rooms lit with warm, electrical light. Jay’s musk filled her thoughts and she could just smell it covering his whole room.

Just imagining his scent somehow eased the chaotic agitation and pain inside Kristi. Her eyes closed, the sense of relaxation melting into her body.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A sudden light flashed in front of Kristi’s closed eyes. Her brows furrowed as she cracked her eyes open. Had someone bashed her door down? Was firelight flooding into her cavern? Shock rattled through her thoughts as her gaze focused on the scene. She bolted upright in the bed, springs squeaked under her. Her yellow eyes snapped to her reflection on the opposite wall. Her gaze flicked around the room with an appraising expression.

It was smaller than her cavern and bathed in warm electrical light. The heavy scent of sweat and Jay’s musk filled the air. From the one open window, the scent of a cool night sifted in. Warmth puddled in Kristi’s core, but she ignored it as she swung her legs off the bed. This all seemed so surreal.

Was this actually a memory of Jay’s home? Was this the true extent of dream walking? Kristi silently marveled as she paced around the room. Through the blinds, Goldbridge lay sprawled out beneath her, streetlights blazing. Overhead, a full moon lulled in the inky-blue sky surrounded by pinpricks of light.

A creaking made Kristi spin on her heel. A door she hadn’t noticed beside the mirror-wall opened. The clothes draped on the door swung out, a jacket falling off the knob. A voice croaked from the threshold, “Kristi?”

Jay stepped into his bedroom, squinting through a fresh, swollen shiner. Kristi stared at him, wide-eyed and lips parted slightly. He cringed and averted his gaze. He didn’t want to see his reflection in her iridescent eyes or see the disgust mixed with pity her face would surely display. Pain throbbed up all sides of his body as bruises crept fully into his flesh. He couldn’t even breathe too deep, or pain would shoot up his ribs. Jay licked his lips, a sting reminding him of the split in his bottom lip. His arms hung uselessly by his sides. Even in a dream, he was absolutely pathetic.

Kristi swept passed him. His head snapped up, his eyes following her. She ducked down the hallway, into a room to the left. Confusion bristled in his thoughts as he followed. From his medicine cabinet, she withdrew a white box with a red cross on it. Kristi didn’t say anything as she turned on her heel. She shot from the bathroom and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Jay trailed after her, curiosity screaming in his head. She placed the kit down on a counter and turned to his refrigerator. All her movements seemed mechanical and sharp. She refused to look at him as she moved. Jay stood by, uselessly, as Kristi busied herself.

She worked on complete autopilot. If it weren’t for her connection to Jay, she would have never known the big white, whining machine was called a fridge nor that it dispensed ice from its “freezer.” She grabbed two bags of “frozen vegetables” that had been there for a good year and a half. When she shut the freezer door and turned, she caught Jay leering at her.

She could sense his subtle curiosity. Her gaze flickered to his right shoulder, the bone jutted against the skin in an almost grotesque way. Then her eyes drew to his other side. It was the exact same. Tears pricked at her eyes, knowing her alpha had put her Mate in this situation. She ignored the emotional chaos in her head as she strode over to Jay.

“This’ll hurt a bit,” she muttered as she grabbed his right arm. Jay braced himself as she swung it out from his body. The pain coursed through him and he grunted, swallowing down painful groans. A loud pop echoed from his shoulder and the agony abated a fraction. Kristi didn’t wait to do the same to his other shoulder. Another pop and a hiss of pain later, Jay found himself with two frozen veggie ice packs resting on his swollen, aching shoulders.

Without a word, Kristi turned away from him and went to the first aid kit she had procured from the bathroom. Despite her refusal to look at him, Jay stepped closer to her. He could feel faint fondness and concern wrap around him the closer she was. Then again, maybe he sought something that wasn’t there.

As she popped the tabs open on the first aid kit, Jay’s mind circled in confusion. “How did you know where the kit and ice would be?”

“We’re Mates. I know what you know.” Kristi couldn’t bear to look at him, from mingled concern and irritation. If he just listened, if he just cared enough, he wouldn’t be in such agony. She concentrated on retrieving a small bottle of rubbing alcohol from the kit.

“What?” Jay’s brows furrowed deeper. Sadness and annoyance puckered at his thoughts, both foreign and familiar. He shoved Kristi’s emotions away. He scrabbled to make sense of her explanation. Or was this just a regular dream, playing off his desire to see her?

“Maybe it develops over time,” Kristi sighed with frustration as she soaked up some alcohol with gauze, “But I can remember stuff you experienced.”

“Oh…” Jay grunted. His eyes opened a little wider, “Then that means you know information about Goldbridge.”

Kristi’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed. She hadn’t thought about that. Everything in her head still felt like it was clashing. As if all the extras from Jay’s consciousness were attempting to fit themselves snugly in her synapses. It didn’t help that she still felt his pain, either. A sudden sense of dread curdled her stomach. Her gaze flickered to Jay’s worried expression, posing a question that had bothered her all night, “Does Goldbridge mean that much to you?” Jay’s expression hardened. How hard with this for her to understand? Just as he opened his mouth, Kristi cut him off. “Never mind.”

She didn’t give Jay a chance to brace himself as she grabbed his arm. Her hand moved of its own accord over his arms and chest and face, sterilizing his cuts with the unforgiving alcohol. Jay hissed in pain, but said nothing. Kristi wasn’t even sure why she was tending to his wounds. It probably wouldn’t carry over into the real world. She received a small amount of relief, nursing her Mate, though.

Jay couldn’t deny the fact he enjoyed her touch and her attention. Kristi’s gentle fingers juxtaposed the chilly sting of the rubbing alcohol. It was a rare occurrence to have someone take care of his cuts and bruises. Hundreds of memories flitted through his head – long, lonely nights spent bandaging himself up and dulling the pain with alcohol., yet, something still bothered him. He broke the content silence with an inquiry, “
Do
you know anything about Goldbridge, now?”

Kristi’s gaze flickered to his face. For a breath, she debated on lying. If he thought she knew something, he might be prompted to talk. A part of her couldn’t form the affirmative. She looked away, reaching for the bandages in the first aid kit. “No.”

That single word hung heavy in the air. Jay almost breathed a sigh of relief, but inexplicable sadness swelled through him. He swallowed it down, pushing it into his stomach acid. Silence upended over them, yet again. Jay watched as Kristi concentrated on his wounds. The touch of her fingertips on his skin brought brief delight to his thoughts.

Something nudged at Kristi’s thoughts. An insistent curiosity demanded her immediate attention. If she recognized his home, more complex familiarities and memories might be in the future. Kristi didn’t remove her gaze from the bandage she smoothed over a slice on Jay’s jaw. “What would you do if I knew something about Goldbridge?”

Jay’s gaze drew away from her. “I don’t know.”

“Would you talk to Alpha Gavin?” Kristi breathed. Her hand paused on Jay’s forearm, her yellow eyes turning to his face. A sharp desperation tinged her tone as she continued, “If I knew, what would the point be of being a martyr?”

“I’m not going to deliver Goldbridge to slaughter,” Jay growled through clenched teeth. Muscles tensed along his sore arms, his hands curling into a fist. Why did she have to press this matter? Why didn’t she understand? His dedication to Goldbridge wasn’t going to falter just as her loyalty to her pack wouldn’t disappear.

“So you’d die for those packs.” Kristi’s eyebrows dipped into a ‘v’ as her gaze sought something in Jay – a little hesitation, a grain of uncertainty, anything that betrayed his adamant vow to the town. She found nothing, not even a smidgeon of regret, though a tangle of feelings knotted inside her head.

Jay snarled, still not turning to face Kristi’s penetrating yellow eyes, “We already established this.”

“Despite everything you have,” she pressed, her voice threatening to crack. She couldn’t force herself to outright ask Jay about her. Why would he want to die when she was right there? Why would he give up a fabled Mate, simply for a town that despised him? It made her stomach somersault with sharp disappointment.

“Yes!” Jay’s glare lit across Kristi’s face. Anger, frustration, hurt, pain,
everything
roiled in his hazel-grey eyes. He yanked away from Kristi and turned from her widened eyes. “Why is this so hard to understand?”

Kristi slammed the first aid kit shut. Her shoulders hunched to her ears as she took slow, deep breaths. Tears burned at her eyes. Never in her life had she imagined this would be a situation with her Mate. Then again she never imagined falling for a Sentinel.

Jay bowed his head. He could hear Kristi sniffling and guilt swelled up in his gut. The creak of the floor made Jay’s muscles tense.

She resisted the urge to press her palm to Jay’s shoulder. As much as she wanted the physical connection, she wasn’t sure he desired the same. Mingling frustration wafted from him, stirring up her thoughts. Slight irritation coiled in her, but she needed his comprehension more. “I don’t think you understand, Jay.”

“What? What don’t I understand?” He whirled around, his pupils narrowed to slits. The bruise around his eye throbbed and bulged. Despite his violent body language, Kristi didn’t wince. “You’d be doing the exact same thing if our positions were reversed.”

Kristi’s gaze hardened on him. She couldn’t deny his accusation, but she couldn’t even picture herself in his position. “I’ve waited for this all my life, Jay. I’m not sure I’d throw it away so flippantly.”

“I’m not throwing anything away.” Even as Jay said it, he knew it was a lie.

Tears brimmed in Kristi’s eyes, but she stubbornly refused to allow their departure. She broke down, her sincere anger blasting through her words. “You’re throwing
me
away!”

“What? You and your made up Mates thing?” Jay’s mind scrabbled for something, anything, to hinge his sudden rage on.

“It’s not made up!” A single tear fought its way over her lashes and down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away. She inhaled sharply, fighting off the flood of tears threatening to fill her eyes.

That tear streaked down Kristi’s face and, somehow, Jay could feel the sensation on his own face. Grappling with shock, he tore his gaze away from her. Denial solidly slammed down around Jay and the mounting acceptance. “Yeah, well, I don’t see you fighting your alpha to save me.”

“It’s complica –”

“Face it. We’re not Mates and you know it.” Jay turned his bright, rage-filled eyes toward her. He forced himself to glare into her yellow eyes and ignore the waves of pain that lapped at his chest. Clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palm, Jay growled out, “Don’t hide behind that bullshit.”

His words felt like a slap across her face. She pulled back, the tears burning at the back of her eyes. She distanced herself as far as the small kitchen would allow her. Pacing to the opposite side of the room, she kept her back to Jay. If he were so desperate to deny their connection, was it really worth fighting over? She could sense his loyalty to Goldbridge mingling with steely determination, refusing her subtle entry to all his feelings and thoughts. Perhaps that was for the best. “You’re right,”

“What?” All the anger raced from Jay’s body. His tense muscles relaxed and his bubble of chaotic emotions drained. He was right? Never had he expected Kristi to agree with him, not after all her emotions he tasted.

“You’re right. We’re not Mates.” Kristi turned around slowly with her eyes and bare feet on the linoleum floor. There was no use fighting it. Jay would pigheadedly trudge forward and willingly place his head in the proverbial guillotine for Goldbridge, regardless of her existence as his Mate. Bitterness bit into her thoughts, her yellow eyes flashed to Jay’s face, “Go get yourself killed for all I care.”

Her unexpected words cleaved through his chest. His eyes widened, and the wolf inside of him backed down with a whimper. He didn’t feel a wave of impending sadness from Kristi, though her tears welled up in her eyes. The pain was only his.