Page 21 of Owned by Four Alphas (Silverthorn Alphas #2)

She had not been nearly as scared walking through the forest at night as she thought she might have been. The ghosts of the men dragging her through the same trees she now travelled through had not haunted her. Instead, they merely reflected her own advancement back to her.

After all, being taken against her will, kicking and screaming, through this very stretch of forest nearly a year ago had not been at all the death sentence she thought it at the time. Instead, it had opened her eyes, changed her entire view of the world, revealed secrets about herself that unraveled the mystery of her life.

It had been a blessing, not a curse. And she would not bring herself to regret it.

Her plan was simple. Return to the village of her birth to stock up on supplies, and then travel north to the place indicated in the prophecy, the place where her father had supposedly given her his magic, and now the place where he waited for her.

She only hoped she would reach it before she gave birth. But even if she had to on the road, she would do it. She had no other choice. Like her mother before her, Selena would figure it all out.

Her baby would have a mother who loved her. Just like she did. And that would have to be enough.

And perhaps, maybe , a grandfather too.

Selena didn’t dare hope. But as she walked through the moonlight, drawing her magic tightly around herself, she couldn’t help but imagine it. Fleeting images of a horned god, his ancient eyes kind, his arms welcoming.

She no longer wanted him to teach her to control her magic. Nor did she care about any prophecy. She couldn’t control it. There was no escaping that fact. Now, she only wanted to give it back to its rightful owner.

She would raise her child as a human. Like her mother before her. The Forest God could return, and all would be right in the Realm.

As she got closer to the village, the moon still high, her senses prickled. She whipped around, her eyes narrowing. But there was nothing but the forest and the trees and the shadows. She gulped, holding her magic even closer to her, rechecking her camouflaging.

Two of her mates had mastery over shadow. She couldn’t be too careful.

For the time being, though, she was alone.

The tree line that marked the border between the Silverthorn Kingdom and the First Realm was getting close. She could see the dilapidated fence, overgrown with thorns and brambles. Chewing her lip, she considered her options. There was no hope of climbing through, not in her state, and there was also no way of telling how far away a passable gate would be. But she was loath to clear a path and leave a physical trail to follow.

Seeing no other option, with a careful tendril of magic, she cleared herself a path. After darting through, she rearranged some brambles and branches, hoping that it would conceal her passage well enough.

She didn’t know how capable a tracker Ronan was without scent. But she didn’t want to risk anything.

Turning towards the village, her brow furrowed. Even though it was night, the fires should still be burning, yet there was no light. No wisp of smoke.

No noise at all, in fact.

Her heart in her throat, she swallowed and walked up the small hill towards the village.

Pure devastation met her.

She walked through the ruined settlement, numb and cold, fingers trailing over the charred remains of wooden structures, the scorched earth, the bones half-sunk into the ground.

Everything was gone. Completely destroyed.

Her stomach churned, her heart wrenching near out of her chest. The bakery. The marketplace stalls. The blacksmith.

Nothing remained but ash.

A scrap of ruined fabric caught her eye, stained with mud and rusted blood. She picked it up, tears welling.

The flag of the Silverthorn Kingdom. They had been here. They had done this.

Because of her.

Damien had said they would. He had said King Dorian would punish the villagers for giving her up to the forest, for letting her escape from their grasp.

And unable to do anything when his son was killed, unable to avenge him by killing her , Dorian had laid waste to her home.

She glanced back down the hill, her heart leaping.

Not everything had been destroyed. Her home, her rundown little cottage, far away enough from the village that it might have escaped the soldiers’ notice, still stood.

Wiping the soot from her hands, her heart breaking, her fingers cold, she walked slowly towards the cottage.

It was so much smaller than she remembered. The roof sank lower than it had before, many tiles missing, the solitary wooden door creaking slightly on its hinges in the gentle breeze. Her garden was a mess of tangled weeds and bushes, half-hiding the actual building itself.

Her throat ached.

This had been her mother’s home, closer to the border, separated from the village. Her presence only tolerated because of the medicinal herbs and hearth foods she could trade with the villagers. A practice Selena had carried on.

The beehive was empty.

For some reason, strange and unknowable, that empty, abandoned beehive was the thing that broke her.

She sank to the ground, her trembling fingers digging into the earth, a choking sob escaping her as the tears fell freely, wracking her frame, wrenching from her with twisting muscles and gasping breath.

The villagers had never been kind to her. She was a rogue omega, outcast and alone. They called her a fat pig, they accused her of witchcraft, they shunned her at every turn. They sacrificed her to the forest to be killed.

But they didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved this. There had been children. So many children.

Dorian had massacred them all the same.

As she wailed her grief to the sky, crouched in the ashes of the only human life she had ever known, her baby kicked.

She clutched her stomach, hardly able to breathe. She was the only one. The only one now who had any memory of her mother. The only person that had known her.

Through choking gasps, she realized there might be another.

Her father. Her father, alive and waiting for her.

It gave her the strength she needed to stand, to take one shaking step, then another, towards her cottage.

A shadowy breezy brushed against her ankles, and she turned, a scream in her throat, tears still pouring down her face.

He was standing there, silhouetted by the starry night sky, his pale face unreadable.

Malek.

“Have you c-come to take me b-back?” she sobbed, wiping furiously at her eyes, “B-because I w-won’t go! You c-can’t m-make me!”

His head lifted, his gaze rising above her to the cottage beyond. “Was that your home?”

She looked back over her shoulder, rubbing her arms. “Yes.”

“Show me.”

She swallowed, but nevertheless obeyed, nerves clashing with stubborn resolution. She didn’t care what he did, what he said. He couldn’t make her go. She wouldn’t let him. She would order him away, she would fight, she would escape. She’d done it once, she would do it again.

But Malek was silent as he followed her into the cottage. He had to bow his head, his antlers scraping against the sagging ceiling.

Selena couldn’t help the blush that rose on her cheeks. “Nobody’s been here in a while, that’s why it’s so… so…” She gestured to the muddy floor, the sinking bed, the broken table.

No. She wouldn’t be ashamed. Her mother had given her this, and she had made it her own. It was a gift. She jutted her chin out. “This was my home.”

Malek nodded, lowering himself to sit on the bed, his long legs nearly touching the small cast-iron stove on the other side of the room. Still, he didn’t say anything.

Selena sat on the lone rickety chair, her shoulders squared, assessing her mate with critical eyes.

“I’m going looking for my father,” she said, “I think I’ve found him. And I’m doing it alone. I can’t sit by and watch you all kill each other. I won’t. So, I left. And I’m not coming back.”

Malek nodded again, his expression turning wistful as he absent-mindedly played with the edge of the blanket.

Selena waited a moment, annoyance growing, “So, you can just go back and tell the others that I’m not going to go with you. That I’m fine.”

Malek tilted his head, “You think the others sent me?”

“Well…yes. Didn’t they?”

Malek’s lips tilted up, “No, they did not. They have no idea where either of us are, as far as I’m aware.”

“Oh,” Selena’s brows creased together, and she looked down at her hands. “So…how did you find me?”

“I never left your side,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing on earth.

She ground her teeth together. She had known to be suspicious of the bloody shadows.

“And now you’re going to try and take me back, right?” It came out as a snarl, a warning. She knew it was faintly ridiculous that she could ever hope to warn him not to do anything, being as he was two heads taller than her, armed with claws and fangs, not to mention layer upon layer of hard muscle.

But she didn’t care. She would warn him regardless.

“Do you remember what I said to you after the mating ceremony, when the priestesses held that ball to celebrate the occasion?” he said suddenly, looking down at his clawed hands.

Her brows shot up, “Um…no, I don’t think I do. A lot happened that night.”

“It did,” his black eyes flickered up to hers. “It was after we had first entered the hall. There was so much…noise. So many people. You tried to hide in my chest. You were afraid.”

Her cheeks heated. She vaguely remembered it, the music, the dancing, and her. Freshly mated and terrified of the whole affair. But she didn’t remember Malek saying anything in particular to her.

“I said I wouldn’t leave you. At the time, I assume you thought I meant in that moment. But I meant it always.”

She sucked in a breath, a fresh round of tears welling as he leant forward, crouching to his knees on the dingy floor of her tiny cottage, taking her hands in his.

“Wherever you are, wherever you wish to go, I will stay by your side. I am sworn to you , Selena. Nobody else. And unless you order me to leave, I will follow you to the ends of the Earth and beyond. You are my reason for living, Selena. You brought me from the darkness and despair of my existence, and you showed me nothing but love and acceptance. I am yours, now and forever.”

He didn’t finish speaking before she launched herself into his arms, fresh waves of tears pouring down her face, grasping his neck.

“Malek,” she sobbed into his robe, “Malek, I…I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

He cradled the back of her head, his other hand fixed securely around her waist. She pulled back, her lips finding his, kissing him with all the desperate love and adoration she felt. He returned her affection with similar zeal, choking in a gasped breath.

“I…I love you,” she said, holding his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his, “I love you, Malek. And I want you by my side.”

A strangled sob escaped him, and he once more captured her lips in a searing kiss.

It was an effort to wrestle him out of his black robes in the confines of the small cottage, but she managed it, letting him also strip her of her clothes until they were naked and warm in each other’s embrace.

Carefully Malek lay down on her bed, the wooden frame creaking under his weight. She climbed on top of him, reaching down to press more fervent kisses to the pale skin of his muscled chest. His hands settled around her hips, careful to keep his claws from her skin.

As she sat back, brushing her long hair over her shoulder, she smiled down at him, her vision still blurred with tears.

He smiled back, his face cracking, his eyes full of nothing but love.

Slowly, he lifted her hips, angling them so that he could push his hard length into her. She gasped as inch by inch she sank down onto him, bracing her hands against his chest, the pregnant swell of her stomach pressing into his rock-hard stomach. She giggled as she wobbled slightly, and he laughed too, the sound like the roaring crash of tumbling stone.

Holding her hips steady, he began rocking in and out of her, their breaths mingling, their eyes never leaving one another. Pleasure coiled low and heavy and she couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that escaped her.

Malek looked at her like she had hung the moon, like she had strung the stars together and decorated the night sky. He looked at her like she painted the morning clouds in swirling watercolor, like she was the very warmth of the sun itself.

As they reached their peaks together, his knot swelling and locking them together, she whispered promises against his skin, promises to love him, to deserve him, to care for him always. As he rolled them over, careful of her stomach, his arms wrapping tightly around her, she let sleep take hold, safe and content in the arms of her soulmate.