Page 9 of Broken Wolf Heart (Mafia Pack #3)

LEXI

I ’m trembling in Grey’s arms, curled against his bare chest like his body is a lifeline to my sanity, but the chaos inside me is finally starting to still. The rhythm of his heart against my ear is the only thing keeping me from unraveling.

He hasn’t let go of me once.

Almost as if he’s the one who needs this moment instead of me. Realizing I’m not the only one who fell apart today is weirdly comforting. His heartbeat is a steady rhythm against my skin. I focus on that. On the way his presence seems to pulse all the way through me.

When my heart rate finally calms, I let myself notice my surroundings for the first time. And I’m struck by the otherworldly feeling of this place.

It’s as if the forest breathes around us.

Not in the obvious way, with wind and leaves and branches swaying overhead, but something deeper.

Older. Like the trees themselves remember what came before us—and maybe what’s still to come.

I never spent much time in nature before coming to Indigo Hills.

And even once I arrived, my days here have been spent mostly inside high rises, mansions, and pool houses.

But this place makes me want to claim a spot and never leave it…

it’s captivating and the perfect distraction to bring me back to myself.

“Talk to me,” Grey finally says. “Tell me what else I can do.”

The pleading in his voice alerts me that, despite his calm and steady heartbeat, he’s still freaking out.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, my voice rough and barely believable, even to me.

“You sure?” His voice rumbles through his chest, low and protective.

“No,” I admit, because he deserves honesty. “But I will be.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just holds me a little tighter. Lets me feel the truth in his silence: that I don’t have to be okay right now. Not as long as he’s here to carry the weight for both of us.

Eventually, my skin starts to itch. I rake my nails over what I realize with disgust is dried blood coating my face and throat. Grey watches my reaction with darkening eyes.

“Come on,” he says gently.

Before I can ask what he means to do, he moves, lifting me effortlessly, like I’m light as air. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on in a way that, if I let go, my wolf might take me over again, and I’ll lose myself forever.

He wades into the stream with me still cradled to his chest. The water is deeper than it looks, and I gasp as it hits my legs, the cool temperature jolting to my senses.

But Grey doesn’t stop, and I press myself against his warmth as the water laps against our hips, the current rushing gently around us.

I expected to be chilled, but after a moment, my body adjusts, and it feels warm.

Comforting. Like the earth itself is trying to soothe us.

Or maybe my flushed skin is still overheated from my run.

Then again, maybe wolves just run hotter than humans.

I can still feel her inside me like a foreign presence beneath my skin.

She’s not nearly as controlling as before, but I am hyper-aware that she could take me over again in a second if she wanted to.

She seems happy enough now that Grey is touching me, though.

She likes him.

In fact, her emotions concerning him are clearer the longer I tune into her.

Mate.

The word jolts me back to reality. To standing in the stream naked with the man I just married.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Grey says, yanking my focus back to the way he’s sinking a little and submerging my body.

“What?” I look down at myself—at the dried blood streaking my chest and arms—and flinch. I don’t know whose it is, but I can still feel the way my claws sank into their flesh. The way my wolf reveled in the taste of violence. A predator. Never prey.

My stomach clenches, and I nearly pull away, but his hands tighten around me underwater.

“Let me,” he murmurs.

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles before dipping it beneath the surface. Then, with slow reverence, he begins to wash the blood away with his calloused hands.

I watch him in silence, my throat tight.

The way he touches me—careful, patient, thorough—undoes me more than any words of reassurance ever could. He’s not afraid of what I did. He’s not disgusted. He’s still here, treating me like I’m some fragile goddess to be worshipped.

He rubs his hands over my arms, trailing his fingers over my skin as he brushes away all the imperfections. When he reaches my chest, he pauses, his hands hovering mid-air .

“Is this okay?” he asks, eyes locking on mine.

I nod.

His hand slides over the swell of my breasts. Down my sternum. Across my abdomen. The way he looks at my body is almost reverent, like he’s not cleaning blood off me as much as honoring something holy. Something broken but beautiful.

“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

His eyes snap to mine. Fire burns in his dark gaze. “Yes, I do. This is what it’s like to be touched by someone who sees you, Lexi.”

At his words, I get a lump in my throat, and it takes everything in me not to shed another tear. Not trusting my voice, I nod and lower my eyes.

When the last of the blood is gone, he shifts his grip and walks us out of the stream. I’m not cold, but I shiver anyway. Naked and raw in every way a person can be.

He carries me to a mossy patch on the bank and sits down with me in his lap, tucking me into his chest like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.

I sit with my arms around his neck, breathing him in.

The night air is laced with pine and moss and moonlight.

His skin is warm against mine, his hands splayed over my hips, grounding me.

It’s not sexual, but somehow, that makes it even more meaningful.

I’ve never been held like this in my life.

My heart shudders and then clicks into place with the full and complete knowledge that no one else ever will. It’s only Grey.

And now, I’m finally a wolf like him.

“I didn’t know,” I murmur.

“Didn’t know what?”

“What it would feel like. To shift.”

He waits, giving me space.

“I was scared,” I admit. “But when it happened, it was… like waking up. Like I’d been half-asleep my whole life and di dn’t realize it until I opened my eyes as her.

” I pull back just enough to meet his gaze.

“I felt powerful. Not just strong— free. Like nothing and no one could ever touch me again.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “That’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”

“And the rest of it, the attack…”

He tenses slightly but doesn’t look away.

“It wasn’t like defending myself as a human,” I say. “It was some kind of animal instinct. My wolf—she’s… brutal. And I had no control. That scares me.”

“You protected yourself,” he says firmly. “And you didn’t just survive—you claimed your place as alpha. Dutch says they all bowed to you at the end.”

“At which point, I continued to take chunks of flesh out of them as I fought my way out.” I cringe at the memory of all that blood.

Not to mention what I’m pretty sure is tissue and maybe even organs.

Gross. I had someone’s skin in my mouth.

“I don’t know if they’ll still see me as alpha after that. ”

“They will. Or else.”

I arch a brow. “Or else what?”

He shrugs. “Or I’ll make them.”

I laugh softly, resting my forehead against his. “You really are a menace.”

He shrugs. “Only for you.”

My smile fades as his words trigger my memory.

“What is it?” he asks, instantly alert. And I can feel it in a way I never did before. His animal side rising up, ready to fight.

“At the church, when they took me away… You let them.” The last part comes out a little strangled as I remember what it felt like to be carried away from my husband. To see him watching it unfold and do nothing to stop it. Even though I see now why he did it.

“I know. Fuck, I know.” He runs a hand through his hair, the anguish in his eyes evident. “I’m sorry. It was the only way to make sure my father didn’t get his hands on you or kill you before I had the chance to?—”

“I know.”

He blinks, clearly expecting me to be furious.

I lay a hand on his chest. “I know,” I say again, watching the words sink in. “You did it for me. So that I’d be safe. I understand now.”

He huffs. “I don’t deserve your understanding. I let our enemy take you from me, and I stood there.”

“You believed I could fight for myself long enough for us to find our way here,” I tell him.

And the conviction of that knowledge has me tearing up.

“No one’s ever believed in me like that.

People have treated me like I’m stupid or helpless or defenseless my entire life.

You’re the first person to let me fight for myself—and to know I’m capable of surviving. Thank you.”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he says, his voice scraping my skin with its rawness.

I press my hand to his cheek, wanting only to assuage the guilt and torment in his eyes.

“I will always find my way back to you,” he says.

Then he kisses me. And everything else fades away.

It starts soft. Gentle. Lips barely brushing, just enough to stir the edges of something waiting—something electric that buzzes beneath my skin.

But then he deepens it.

And whatever thing he’s awakened between us comes fully alive.

The kiss turns greedy, open-mouthed, and consuming. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming, coaxing, devouring. I moan, and he swallows it like it’s his favorite sound.

My ears roar with the sensations. My skin feels like a live wire. And in my mind or my heart—I don’t know which—I can sense him wanting me.

The mate bond.

What felt like a vague thought before suddenly flares to life between us. I feel the essence of him everywhere— inside me, like a second heartbeat. Like he’s always been there, waiting for me to notice.

“I feel you,” I gasp between kisses. “In a way I couldn’t before. Like… like I am you.”