Page 29 of The Alpha’s Chosen Mate

His heavy footsteps thunder through the forest behind me. I duck through a juniper bush and head uphill until I come to a forked path. I veer to the left, deeper into the trees, instead of to the right where the path ends on an outcrop overlooking the lake.

But Harrison is already there, blocking the path. I yelp and whirl around, heading back the way we came. Back to the clearing.

Harrison stays close behind me the whole way back, a protective sentinel of my wolf. His nearness calms me, like it always does. My wolf peeks at him several times, and every time she does, he picks up speed a smidgen, showing off for her. Perhaps unintentionally, but my wolf likes it, putting on her own burst of speed to match his.

When we near the clearing, I have a brief moment of panicked clarity. My clothes ripped during my shift, which means I have nothing to change into. I could stay in my wolf form, but if I do that, then I can’t properly thank Harrison for his help over the last two years.

Luckily, my concern is for nothing. There, atop my tattered pajamas, is Harrison’s shirt, left there by his lycan before he followed me on our run through the forest. I check to make sure he’s not looking—his back is turned to me—and then I shift and throw his shirt on over my bare skin.

The fabric is still warm somehow, and his scent is embedded into the fibers, making my wolf wag her tail in my head.

As soon as the garment hides my body, I sprint across the clearing. Harrison is yanking his sweats on, and I leap at him before he’s fully facing me. He catches me with a laugh, stumbling backwards a step as I throw my arms around his neck.

His body is even warmer than his shirt. His clean, masculine scent intoxicates me, filling my lungs with a power that’s as strong as his protective aura and rippling muscles.

We’re so close. Nose to nose. Breaths mixing. He doesn’t move away from me. He holds me against his chest, one arm around my shoulders and the other around my waist. My feet hover inches off the ground, and my heart thunders as, inch by inch, I bring my face closer to his.

And then my lips are on his. Harrison freezes at first, then growls, returning my kiss with an excitement I didn’t expect. My toes meet the forest floor as he lowers me, his palm pressing into the small of my back. I lean into Harrison, clinging to his neck for balance and giving him full control of the kiss.

His tongue swipes across my lips. Heat floods through me. I’m about to open my mouth for him when I realize—I’m kissing Harrison. The future alpha of Crescent Lake. The man who will take over this pack someday, with his luna at his side.

And the chances of that luna being me? Slim. Zero, even. I’m nothing. Nobody. I’m barely a proper werewolf. I’m someone who, until two years ago, believed I didn’t have a wolf and would never shift. I’ll never be his equal like a luna should be.

I tear myself away from him. “I am… I am so sorry.” And before he can say or do anything else, I run from the clearing and back to the packhouse.