Chapter 3 Alexander's Struggle: The Wolf and Emma

Alexander's Struggle: The Wolf and Emma

She was Awakening.

Alexander had spent years training himself for control. Control of his emotions, control of misleading instinct, and above all, control over the wolf inside. But the minute Emma had taken hold of his life, all the discipline and self-restraint came crashing down.

It started-nasal around him, even before he saw her-of a sweet mix of lavender and honey. His wolf twisted, scraping at the walls of his mind, deep growls reverberating in his chest. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to breathe normally, but his body betrayed him. He tensed, his vision sharpened; adrenaline rushed through him so fast that his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

And then he saw her.

Emma stood poised in the doorway of an ancient little bookshop, her amber-and-brown eyes scanning the rows of Linenthal primly arranged bookshelves as if she were overawed. Strands of stubborn auburn hair framed her face; while some bushed away from her ponytail, the rays of light raked through their gossamer layers like luminous embers. She seemed too fragile, too delicate for the short storm into which she had unwittingly stepped.

Teeth clenched in frustration, Alexander spun away.

That was impossible. No, not possible. Not now. Not him.

But his wolf refused to leave. It crashed forward, radiating one, plain, undeniable truth: Mate.

Chapter Two: The Fight Within

Alexander heard about fated mates but never truly believed in them. His kind often found mates based on compatibility and instinct, but one soul that gripped unbreakably had always been a tale for him-until now.

He kept his heart near still as Emma came next to him and began browsing the shelf beside him. The sound of his heart beating away inside was steady, strong, and so clueless as to the internal war waging in him.

Stay cool. Conceal it.

But that was harder than he thought. Just the very soft brushing of her arm against his made the wolf flare up inside.

Mine.

Primal possession hit him. His claws were coming out; his fangs ached to grow. It took everything in him to restrain the shift, to keep his body from exposing what he was though.

"Sorry," Emma said, looking up at him and giving an apologetic smile.

Her voice was low and melodic; the sound of it sent a shudder right through him.

He had to get out of there. Now.

Silently, he turned on his heel and all but bolted for the door, the appearance of reluctance and stiff movement rendering him the picture of a most unnatural being. Before he even had a chance to shut the door, he solidified a deep breath away to scour all her scent from within his lungs.

But it was too late.

The wolf had already claimed her.

Chapter Three: Distance Is Not an Option

For the next few days, Alexander simply avoided the bookstore. He stayed away from anywhere she could possibly show up, lingering in the dark like a wounded thing. Alas, this helped little.

The wolf was just restless there inside him, pacing within its cage, angry at the mere distance. Every other night along, he pushed himself to stand outside her apartment building-though unseen and unnoticed, practically to ensure she was safe.

It wasn't a natural sort of infatuation-a lure that led to danger.

And yet the man couldn't help but succumb to it.

At some point during that night, she had walked alone to her home.

It was a late hour, and there stood empty streets. Alexander stood far away, convincing himself he was there only to make sure she got home safely. But at that instant, he got a whiff of another wolf-one that belonged nowhere on his territory-and ice rushed through his blood.

A rogue.

His body moved before his mind did: his wolf roared to the surface. He crossed the distance between them in mere seconds as the dark figure's form emerged from the shadows of the alley.

Emma gasped and stepped back, but the rogue was too close.

Alexander didn't waste time. He let forth a growl as guttural as a lion's. He crashed into the intruder with great momentum, and the two fell to the pavement. The claws went deep, in the fight that was quick, merciless, brutal-the moment, in panic, that the other wolf recognized whom he was dealing with, he fled rickety into the dark.

Alexander drew a deep breath, a rasping breath. His heart was still thumping furiously when he turned to find Emma staring at him, with wide eyes.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered.

He gulped.

You should not have let her see.

"Nothing. Just a thief," he said, forcing his voice under control.

Emma didn't look convinced, but before she could ask more, he turned and disappeared into the night.

Chapter Four: Losing the Battle

It had been hard to avoid Emma before. But now, it was impossible. She filled his mind, senses, and dreams. The wolf could be content no longer, but wanted her.

And the more he fought it, the harder it became to stay away.

He could not truly help himself but watch her at a distance, basking in her warmth, laughter, and presence. She had no idea what she was doing to him. She had no idea how much he was holding back.

Then came the breaking point.

It was a quiet evening. The café she adored was nearly empty, and she was sitting by the window, reading. Alexander had meant to walk by, to carry on.

But when their eyes met...

For just a moment, the world seemed to cease.

She smiled and, inside him, something broke.

He was walking toward her without knowing why, his body obeying instinct. She looked up, startled yet pleased, as he approached.

"Alexander," she said, closing her book. "I wondered when I'd see you again."

He hesitated, his body screaming at him to bolt. But no.

He sat.