Page 12 of Alpha Unchained (Wolves of Wild Hollow #2)

"I’m not yours," she spits, chin lifted. "And this isn’t your life to control, Luke."

"The hell it isn’t," I growl, every muscle tight. "You think I can just let you go? Let Waylon or the syndicate circle around you, waiting for a sign of weakness? You’re mine, Elena. Our baby is mine. And I’ll protect you both, even if it means you hate me for it."

For a moment, she looks like she might slap me. Instead, she grabs the heaviest book from the nearby shelf and hurls it at my head. I duck, barely missing a face-full of hardcover, and it hits the wall with a satisfying thud.

"Get out," she snarls, her voice shaking with fury and something hotter, wilder underneath. "I mean it, Luke. Just get the hell out. I don’t need you. I don’t want you here."

I take a step back, breathing hard, but I don’t leave.

I watch her, the color in her cheeks, the sharp rise and fall of her chest. My wolf wants to take, to claim, to prove she’s still mine.

But the look in her eyes says it all—hurt, longing, betrayal tangled together in a snarl it's going to take more than force to untangle.

"You want me to go? You’ll have to make me," I say, voice low, letting my need and my anger tangle in the space between us.

She doesn’t back down. "Don’t tempt me." She doesn’t flinch, and that alone makes my cock ache. Even furious, even ready to claw me bloody—she’s never looked more mine.

We stand there, caught in a battle neither of us wants to end. The fight turns heated—words traded like claws, accusations hurled, old wounds ripped open. But underneath it all, the air is thick with want. I see it in the way she looks at me, the way her hands tremble when I step close.

The need between us is feral, a raw thing clawing through the pretense.

I move before I think, pressing her back against the wall, mouth crashing down on hers in a kiss that’s pure demand.

She fights me at first, fists pushing at my chest, but I don’t yield.

I capture her wrists in one hand, holding her there with all the command my body can muster.

My grip on her wrists tightens, pinning them over her head as I press her into the wall.

Her glare dares me to try, dares me to take what’s always burned between us.

I claim her mouth, tongue and teeth, demanding, not giving her room to pretend she doesn’t want this too.

She fights me—hips jerking, thighs pressing against mine, her body arching as much in defiance as need.

My free hand trails down, shoving her shirt up, fingers rough and reverent at once as I drag it over her head and toss it aside.

The bra is gone with a single flick, her breasts bared to the shadowy light, nipples tight and flushed.

I lean in, taking her mouth again as my palm closes over one breast—squeezing, teasing, letting her feel exactly how badly I want her.

She gasps, her whole body taut, her she-wolf most likely straining for freedom.

I break the kiss and bite down at the base of her throat, right over the mark I left. Her back bows off the wall, a sound torn from her lips—equal parts pain and pleasure, the two inseparable now.

“Still think you don’t want me?” I growl against her skin, tracing my tongue along her collarbone, trailing lower.

Her hands twist, desperate to break free, but I hold her fast, dragging my mouth down to her breast, flicking my tongue over her nipple before sucking hard—claiming, hungry.

She bucks against me, a helpless moan breaking free, her hips rolling against my thigh.

I slip my hand beneath her waistband, pausing to feel her breath catch.

“Luke...” Her voice is a warning and a plea.

“Tell me to stop,” I rasp, but she only arches into my touch, fire in her eyes.

Her eyes burn into mine, daring me.

“Don’t stop,” she murmurs, breath catching.

"I want you to remember.”

That’s all the permission I need. Still holding her pinned against the wall, I haul her jeans open and shove them—along with her panties—down to her knees.

She tries to twist away, but I catch her hips, grip firm and commanding, and drop to my knees right there.

Her back pressed to the wall, legs spread by my hands, I look up at her—breathless, defiant, already trembling.

I press a kiss to her belly, just below her navel, lingering for a heartbeat, then lower, mouth hot on her, my breath teasing her slick heat.

She gasps, fists tangling in my hair, as I slide my tongue along her folds—slow at first, savoring the taste of her, the pulse that jumps under my mouth. I tease her, licking and sucking, letting her feel my control in every movement. Her hips buck, her voice raw and desperate.

“Luke...”

I answer by slipping two fingers inside her, curling them until she cries out, my tongue never relenting.

I work her ceaselessly, letting her ride the edge, her thighs tightening around my shoulders, her wolf howling in silence, raw and wild and desperate to protect what’s hers.

I feel her body tense, every muscle straining as she shatters against my mouth, her pleasure breaking loose in waves—loud, helpless, mine.

I rise, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, staring down at her—breathless, undone, wild and beautiful in her fury. “Mine,” I growl, catching her mouth again, letting her taste herself on my lips.

She’s trembling, legs barely holding her, eyes dazed and angry all at once.

But before I can take it further, she twists in my grip, shoves at my chest, shattering the spell with sheer will.

“You can’t fix this with sex, Luke. Not this time.

You don’t get to own me just because you can make me come. I can do that myself without you.”

I hold her gaze, refusing to back down. "I’m not trying to own you, Elena.

I want all of you—fighting, wild, stubborn as hell.

I want what we are when nothing’s in the way.

I want the life we could have started a long time ago.

The one I screwed up. I want the family we made—no matter how you fight me. "

Tears glitter in her eyes, but she stands her ground, shaking her head. “Get out,” she whispers, voice fierce and low.

My whole body aches to stay, to keep her pressed to the wall and erase all the space between us, to remind her she’s not alone and never will be.

But I see it—the line she draws, the boundary that no amount of desire can cross right now.

I force myself to step back, chest heaving, every muscle tensed to fight for her, to stay and break down every wall.

But I don’t. I give her what little space she asks for, even though it goes against every instinct I have.

“I’m staying at Kate's old place over the mercantile if you change your mind,” I say, voice rough, eyes lingering on her flushed skin, her chest rising and falling, the scent of her still thick between us.

One last look—her hair wild, her mouth swollen, her eyes haunted and hungry—and I leave, shutting the door behind me. The ache is brutal, but the war isn’t over.

I walk away because she asked—but every step feels like a betrayal of my wolf, of my instinct, of everything we were. I’ll give her space. But not distance. Not for long.