Page 3 of The Alpha’s Forced Plus-Size Mate (Silverfang Creek Wolves #3)
Fate was a funny thing.
I had every intention of hunting Naomi down and bringing her to Athens myself, but on Julian's suggestion, I put out an APB to the rest of the pack and our contacts to keep an eye out for her. My friend had been thinking ahead and figured that a wolf from a stuck-up pack like the Silverfangs might not want a Red Canine as a mate. Julian thought Naomi might flee to keep herself out of my clutches, and that was exactly what she did.
I've been trying to pull the pack out of the drug running game somewhat for a while now, putting our money into more legitimate business dealings just to have a safety net and maybe clean up our reputation some. It was a good thing I didn't manage to close down all of our illegal dealings, though, because it was a truck driver carrying a certain white powdery parcel for me that managed to pick up Naomi at a rest stop.
What in the hell were the chances? It seemed impossible, yet here she was, lying in my bed, delivered to me safe and sound. I paid that truck driver a hefty bonus to keep his mouth shut and sent him on his way, promising that I meant the girl no harm.
In fact, she was one of the most precious things in the world to me already, though I'd never admit it out loud. At least not yet.
The driver had drugged her, figuring that he didn't want a pissed-off she-wolf in the back of his truck once she figured out where he was actually taking her—right to my doorstep. She'd been so out of it when they arrived, totally dead to the world, that I had called the pack doctor, Dr. Travis Sweet, to look her over and make sure she was going to be okay. He assured me she'd wake up in a few hours and took some blood just to ascertain that my new mate was healthy.
Now, I was just waiting for the good doctor to return with those results. For now, I had the privilege of watching over sweet Naomi all on my own.
She was beautiful in a subtle way that drove me wild. Her hair was long, a light brown that fell over her shoulders with bangs that framed her face. Her features were soft and delicate, and her cheeks had a rosy glow. In her right nostril, a gold nose ring gleamed. Her curves were out of this world, the kind a man could fill his hands with over and over again and never get tired.
It wasn’t long before the doctor returned, his briefcase in his hands and a smile on his face. “Your mate is in excellent health,” he said. “She should be waking up soon. She's going to be sore from being limp for so long, her legs especially, so watch out for that. Otherwise, she looks great. And congratulations, by the way.”
“Thanks, doc,” I told him. “I appreciate the help.”
Dr. Sweet shrugged. “No problem. Let me know if you need anything else. If you'd like, I can arrange an appointment for the two of you to come in so we can set a date and check on her.”
“Yeah, that'd be good,” I agreed. The doctor nodded, shook my hand, and left.
I sighed and turned my attention back to the gorgeous woman in my bed. My mate. My fated mate.
It seemed surreal. The mating ceremony had only been the day before, and here she was, delivered right into my hands. Fate had a way of surprising a person.
And boy, did fate ever have a sense of humor. The Silverfangs, the biggest pompous pricks in the region, had sent me a woman who had to be among their best and brightest. Already, I knew she was incredible.
My research into Naomi hadn't given me a hell of a lot to go on, but a perusal of her social media had revealed that one of her favorite places in the world was a small pastry shop just outside of Beaufort. I obviously couldn't go there for her, but I managed to get a variety of donuts, croissants, and Danishes delivered for when she woke up. There was hot coffee brewing in the kitchen and a pitcher of ice water on the bedside table. I knew she'd be parched when she woke up.
My heart beat hard and heavy in my chest as I dragged my eyes up and down her sleeping form. When the truck driver had brought her in, I'd stripped her of her heavy sweatshirt, leaving her in just black leggings and a matching tank, and now I couldn't get enough of her. I'd heard all about how fated mates make a man's entire life feel like it was worth something. I didn't believe in that nonsense, and I didn't have any plans on getting married or even settling down—why would I? I was fucking cursed. Hell, a relationship was the last thing on my mind. But now, everything changed.
She intrigued me, and that was hard for anyone or anything to do. And she hadn't even opened her eyes yet.
Bartender Johnny had provided me with some information from the Silverfang Creek pack, but it had been less than I was hoping for. Naomi apparently wasn't a big figure in the pack, and not much was known about her outside of her close circle of friends. That was okay, though. I liked a challenge.
She was so still. If Dr. Sweet hadn't given me the green light, I'd be worried. For now, though, there was nothing else to do but wait. Sighing, I grabbed the true crime book I'd been reading the last week off the bedside table—a secret pleasure of mine, especially mafia history—and settled in to read. The chair I'd pulled in from the dining room wasn’t the most comfortable, but even I'm not enough of an asshole to climb into bed with her when she's unconscious and hasn't met me yet.
The hours passed. My back hurt from the shitty chair, and I had to rewarm the pastries twice so she wouldn't wake up to cold food. Finally, around noon, Naomi began to stir. She didn't wake up immediately but turned her head and coughed, her legs kicking against the blanket.
That must be the leg cramps Sweet was talking about , I thought. Carefully, not wanting to freak her out, I rubbed my hands together to warm them and started to gently massage her calves, moving upward.
Naomi's legs were soft and supple even through the leggings, and they felt so good under my hands that I was careful not to linger, even if I wanted to. The massage must have brought her back to the waking world because her eyes opened. She blinked a few times before her gaze locked on mine.
She gasped, sitting straight up and scooting backward so fast she almost fell off the other side of the bed.
“Whoa, hey,” I said. “Calm down. You're alright.”
Her eyes were owlishly large, slowly looking around as if she thought she might be in a dream. Carefully, I moved up beside her and cradled her behind her shoulders with one arm. Naomi fixed her gaze on me as I dipped my hand into the pitcher of water, plucking a few ice cubes from inside and holding the first one to her plump lips.
“Here. You must be parched.”
She opened her mouth, allowing me to place the ice cube inside. Her tongue rolled around it as she sucked, and I swear to god, my dick jumped in my pants. Down boy. Now was not a good time.
Like a baby bird, she opened her mouth, and I placed a second cube inside. While she sucked on that one, I dug around in my end table drawer and grabbed the little thing of Vaseline I kept inside. With a dollop on my thumb, I swept it over her poor, chapped lips and smiled at the sigh of relief that escaped her throat.
“I know,” I told her. “It's been a long trip, huh? How are you feeling?”
She looked up at me, blinking slowly. Her eyes were a pretty, deep shade of brown, like dark chocolate or fertile earth. “Tired,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, and she licked her lips before speaking again. “Sore.”
“I know. I'm sorry about that,” I told her. When she unconsciously winced and reached down for her legs, I resumed the massage, causing her eyes to flutter once more as she fell back.
“That's nice,” Naomi whispered. “This is a good dream. Better than the last one, that's for sure.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “This isn't a dream, Naomi. It's real.”
At first, I could tell she didn't believe me, but my words seemed to hit her all at once. Flustered, a blush rushing over her chest and face, Naomi bolted to a sitting position and gaped down at me. “W-what do you mean!? W-who are you?”
“Shh. Just relax for right now. Take it easy.”
“Take it easy?” Naomi sputtered. “Why am I here? What's going on? What did you do to me?”
“Nothing,” I said, trying to keep my voice comforting so she didn’t panic. “Naomi, this isn't a trick. It's not an attack. This is the real deal. You're my mate. I've been waiting for you.”
“I—What?” She seemed shell-shocked, and I didn't blame her. This was a lot to take in. “Your mate? No, no, you're wrong. I'm not supposed to be your mate; I'm not.”
She tried to push my hands off her legs, but instead of letting her, I grabbed them. My pulse was pounding in my ears as I raised her still-cold hands to my lips and kissed each one in turn. “You are, Naomi Frazier. I'm Danny Turner, Alpha of the Red Canines pack and your mate. We shouldn't waste any time. Marry me.”