Page 21 of The Alpha Wolf’s Secret Baby Boy

All I know is that I must make her mine in the most primal way known to a wolf. It’s the only way my inner wolf will be calmed, so that this madness doesn’t consume me and turn me against all the peace we’ve found lately.

I will only know true peace when Poppy Barnes is my mate and luna of this pack.

***

“You should get dressed,” I say, voice tight as I point to the dress I just laid out on the bed.

Poppy stands at the window, her arms folded across her chest as if she’s trying to hold herself together. Or maybe she’s holding her guard up. I’m not sure which is true.

After our argument this morning, I don’t blame her. But I can hardly feel remorseful about the way I behaved, when being back in the room with her makes me feel that same possessive insanity again.

I can’t help it.

Her scent swirls in the air, speaking to my senses like a provocative whisper meant to entice me, meant to tease me, while her body language belies what I’m gathering from the air. I have either lost my mind already, or Poppy is buried deep in denial. Either way, my inner wolf won’t let me know peace while she exists as an unclaimed wolf.

Poppy turns to face me, her eyes puffy as if she’s been crying all day, her lips pressed into a firm line. She doesn’t respond and just picks up the white dress from the bed and advances to the bathroom like she’s too defeated to put up a fight.

Another wave of regret washes over me, but my inner wolf reminds me that I am only doing what is right for both of us. We’re fated mates, and it’s in our best interest to fulfill the mate bond that we’ve been honored with.

Poppy returns from the bathroom, wearing the white dress and stealing my breath at the same time. She looks ethereal, elegant, wearing only the necklace she never takes off.

My eyes flit to her left wrist where she used to wear the bracelet I gifted her for her nineteenth birthday. It’s not there anymore, and my heart cracks a little more than it has ever since I found her again.

How much does she hate the memory of me…?

She hesitates to place her hand in mine, but my inner wolf’s impatience knows no bounds as I grab her empty wrist and tug her forward. She wasn’t expecting the jolt, and her surprised knees buckle as she crashes into me.

Without hesitation, I hold her steady with one arm curled around her waist. She doesn’t look up immediately, gasping and flustered, and she pushes at my chest.

I take a deep breath as I close my eyes for a moment to bask in her touch, even if it’s hostile. My body tingles where she touched me, and it’s just more confirmation of what my inner wolf knows already.

The scent of sweet flowers fills my airways, and I open my eyes to find her staring at me.

I blink a few times, gathering my composure, which is so hard to find when we’re so close. All I want to do is lean in and crush my lips to hers with the pent-up passion of a decade, but I hold myself back and lead her to the door.

We don’t speak as I take her to the chapel, where the pack priest waits for us at the altar. The vast sacred space is eerily quiet as we walk down the aisle together, candle flames flickering and casting wrestling shadows on the walls on both sides. It’s like the shadows reflect the fight between us, which still exists even without Poppy saying a word to me.

“Good evening, Alpha Damian.” The priest, Jaimie, nods as he steps to the side and gestures to the sacred skull resting on the podium.

I’d instructed Jaimie to prepare for tonight’s ritual, purposely leaving out an audience so we wouldn’t be interrupted or distracted.

What I’m doing tonight is a selfish act that should have happened ten years ago. This is not for the pack or theatrics. This is for my inner wolf, and hers, when she finally acknowledges that I am her fated mate. This is for us.

Except, it’s not. This is for me. For the desperate, broken part of me that can’t survive losing her twice.

I know that.

I’m simply not strong enough to stop myself anymore.

The priest wears a bewildered look, seeming to recognize Poppy as a former member of the Valley Walker Pack, but knows his place and questions nothing as he takes his position behind the skull. He reaches out both hands—one toward me, the other toward Poppy—and when we take his hands, he closes his eyes and begins to pray.

I glance over at Poppy, and she still has her lips pursed, eyes blank as she stares at the priest as he places our hands on the skull. My hand covers hers, and the force of awareness surging through my fingers compels me to turn and face her.

“You may now claim your mate,” the priest prompts, and I nod and stand tall and stare at her.

“I, Alpha Damian Walker, claim Poppy Barnes as my mate and luna of the Valley Walker Pack.”

Poppy’s breath catches, and her free hand flies to her chest, where she clutches the pendant dangling from her gold chain. She gulps, eyes hard when they meet mine, and then she nods tersely.