Page 225 of Alpha Mates

“Stop crying,” he whispers as he forces me back so he can wipe my tears away.

His touch is amazing, and I never want him to stop, but I can feel the difference already. He’s holding me, but not tightly; touching me, but not vehemently; and his eyes never seem to hold mine for too long.

Alex whines, low and uncertain, and the sound echoes the hollowness I’m feeling.

“Are you going to break our bond?”

I don’t know how I find the courage to ask it, especially when the answer is the thing I fear the most now, but I’m glad I do. The question lands like a blade between us, and for a heartbeat, Aiden’s face contorts with horror. It’s gone too fast, but I hold onto that flicker of fear like proof he still cares.

“No,” he answers, and the weight that took residence on my shoulders crumbles instantly. Setting me back down gently, Aiden rises despite my protests.

“You need to eat,” he states as he makes his way to the kitchenette. “When was the last time you ate?”

“The day you left,” I mumble.

“What?!” He spins around, eyes wide. There’s no anger anymore, only worry.

“I couldn’t,” I defend as I shrink beneath his gaze. “I couldn’t keep anything down.”

It’s the truth. It isn’t as if I’d stopped eating on purpose. I just wasn’t hungry, and when I tried to make myself eat anyway, it all came back up.

“Julian,” Aiden breathes, sounding lost and looking it too as his gaze passes over me.

I pull the blanket higher, hiding what I can. I hadn’t paid any attention to myself, so I hadn’t noticed how deeply my abdomen had sunken or how thin my wrists had become, but now, with Aiden looking at me with such misery, I feel decrepit.

I look down at the knitted fabric, toying with its ends and hiding from Aiden’s knowing stare until I hear the rustle of plastic. When I look up, Aiden’s back is to me, but he’s making a sandwich by the look of things. He brings it over as quickly as he can, offering it in supplication.

“Eat,” he demands, setting the plate in my hands.

For the first time in weeks, my stomach growls. I don’t bother being clean about it as I scarf it down. The bread sticks to the roof of my mouth, but it tastes like heaven. Aiden waits for me to finish it before he speaks again.

“How did you find me?”

I freeze, gauging the look in his eyes before I answer.

“Your parents,” I admit. “But really it was your dad.”

Aiden’s eyes widen a fraction. “I thought they’d die before telling you anything.”

“I sort of … threatened them,” I admit, which widens his eyes even more before his lips quirk into a small smile. It’s like a shot of dopamine, the first thing to warm my soul since he left.

“They told me there would be an old mill here.”

“There was,” he admits plainly. “I broke it down and built this place over the years.”

“Really?” I ask, looking around with a new appreciation. It’s well constructed, rustic but loved; that’s clear by every well-placed beam and perfectly applied coat of paint.

“It took a few tries, but it came out alright in the end,” he replies, his smile returning as he looks around for himself. He looks light—happy.

It is more than alright. The place is beautiful, quiet, serene, and a whole list of other things I’d never expect Aiden to like.

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Why the hell would I tell you?” he snaps, making me freeze.

All that softness drains from his face. His eyes are dark, cold, and I feel Alex sink deeper as I shift under it.

“I—I just meant—”