Page 10 of The Alpha’s Runaway Mate (Evermore Hollow #1)

“We look,” I tell him. “But we don’t feed that forest three Doyles because we got sentimental.”

That shuts down the room. Xander nods once, crisp and controlled. Kolt blows out a slow breath, then tips his chin at me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re different,” he says.

I raise a brow. “Since when?”

“Since you found her,” Kolt says, grin widening. “You look like you’re ready to fight a war and build a nursery in the same afternoon.”

I huff, half a laugh, half a warning. “You always this mouthy to your Alpha?”

“Only when he starts acting human,” Kolt shoots back.

“Knock it off,” Xander mutters, but there’s amusement under it.

They’re my brothers. My second and third. My blood and my bond. And they’re not wrong. Something in me is different. Sharper. Anchored. “She’s at my place,” I say finally. “Sleeping. Don’t say her name here.”

“Copy,” Xander replies immediately, tone all business again.

Kolt’s smirk fades. “You really think this ridge thing’s connected?”

“I think everything that crawls out of that forest is connected,” I answer. “And if Declan’s been touched by it, we deal with it before it spreads.”

The silence that follows is heavy. The kind that only comes before a storm. Outside, the bar hums, wolves posturing, witches bargaining, vampires pretending they don’t need an audience. It’s the same chaos as always. But for the first time in years, I realize I’ve got something to lose.

The silence stretches until it’s too damn thick. Xander studies the map on the wall like it’s got secrets, Kolt paces once, twice, cracking his knuckles loud enough to echo.

I push off the desk. “Come on,” I say, grabbing my jacket from the chair. “Let’s go grab a drink at the bar so I can get back to my mate.”

Kolt’s grin flashes, all teeth. “Now that sounds like the Nolan I know.”

Xander shakes his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re hopeless.”

“Efficient,” I correct, pushing the door open. The noise of Snarl rushes in, music, laughter, the low pulse of too many creatures pretending to play nice.

The three of us move through it like muscle memory. Heads turn. Conversations dip. The wolves at the pool tables glance up, catch my scent, and suddenly remember their drinks. The witches at the corner booth go quiet. The vampires don’t look up, but I feel their eyes on my back.

Kolt elbows me as we reach the bar. “You sure this thing with your human’s not making you soft?”

I shoot him a look that could cut steel. “Say that again and I’ll make you run ward patrol with the witches.”

He raises both hands, still grinning. “Touchy.”

“Grounded,” I say, though the truth is more complicated. Jessica’s scent still clings to my skin, something sweet I can’t name, and it’s the only thing keeping my temper from snapping.

Ezra slides three glasses our way without being asked. Whiskey, neat. He knows us too well. Kolt downs his in one go. Xander sips his like it’s a science experiment and I lean back against the bar, scanning the room, letting my senses stretch out.

The ridge is too quiet tonight. Declan’s out there, changed. And somewhere beyond those trees, something’s pulling at the edges of our world.

But right now? I’ve got brothers at my side and a mate waiting for me at home.

I toss back my drink, set the glass down hard enough to make it ring, and nod once toward the door. “Let’s wrap this up. I’ve got somewhere I’d rather be.”

Kolt smirks into his glass. “Yeah, we know where.”

I don’t bother denying it. I just shake my head, push off the bar, and start toward the floor. Snarl’s pulse meets mine, low, constant, alive. The place always hums, but tonight it feels different. Restless.

Snarl purrs and bares teeth depending on who’s petting it. The floor vibrates with boots and heels. Glass clinks. Someone laughs too sharp, and cuts off when they notice me. I sweep the room, reading it by scent and shadow. Everything is normal. Almost.

Then the air shifts. It’s not a sound, not a scent. Just pressure, the subtle tilt of the room leaning toward the door before it even opens.

I turn and find Jessica standing just inside, one hand gripping the handle like she needs something solid to hold on to.

Jeans. White sweater. Hair brushed into soft waves.

Color high in her cheeks like she argued with herself the whole drive and lost. My focus narrows to a single point with a pulse.

She finds me instantly and her shoulders drop a fraction.

The bond hits sharp, bright, sweet. Good. Come here.

I’m halfway to her when a man slides off a barstool and into her path. Leather jacket, lean build, smile a shade too bright. He’s human, but not harmless. He says something and she gives him a polite smile and steps to go around him.

He shadow-steps her and reaches for her elbow.

The edges of my vision blur with rage. I don’t shove. I don’t snarl. I just walk, and the room parts like a tide going out. I cross the floor in three heartbeats. “Take your hand off of her,” I say in a deadly calm.

He startles, clocking me. Loosens, but doesn’t remove his hand. Wrong answer.

I take his wrist. Not hard. He tries to pull back and can’t. I set his hand back where it belongs, attached to him, not on her, and step between them until he can’t see her at all.

“You lost?” I ask.

“Just being friendly,” he says, smiling all cocky like.

“Your word for it.” I lean in a fraction. “Here’s mine. She’s off-limits.”

He huffs, “Didn’t see a ring, bro.”

“You won’t see anything,” I say. “You’ll listen.”

A quick flash of calculation flickers behind his eyes, fight, flight, talk trash? He picks survival. Hands up. “Didn’t mean anything by it.” He backs off, already rewriting the story in his head to sound cooler than it looked.

I breathe out, let the red drain, and turn to Jessica.

I pull her to me, arm wrapped around her waist. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” I say, but it comes out gruffer than I mean it to.

She lifts a shoulder, contrite and stubborn in one move. “I woke up to your note.” Her mouth twitches. “I don’t have a phone.”

Right. I left a number for a woman with no cell. Ten out of ten, Alpha of the Year. “Okay,” I say. “We’re fixing that tomorrow.”

“I figured if I couldn’t call, I could come here.” She glances around, taking in the crowd, then looks back at me like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. “You said not to stop for anything, so… I didn’t.”

The knot between my shoulders loosens. “Good.”

Behind me, I feel Kolt and Xander clock her scent and my stance, and the click of realization is so loud I don’t need to turn. They approach like smart men approach a bomb. Slow. Visible hands. Light voices.

“Hi,” Kolt says first, as easy as a summer afternoon. “I’m the handsome one. He’s the responsible one.” He tips his chin toward Xander.

Xander doesn’t blink. “He can’t read a map.”

Kolt grins at Jessica. “I can read a vibe, though and yours says ‘save me from my bossy mate.’”

Jessica blinks, then lets out a surprised laugh. “Is that what it says?”

“Loud and clear.” Kolt nods solemnly. “Also says you haven’t eaten enough in the last twenty-four hours, which is a felony in this family.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Xander says to her, deadpan. “He’ll start meal-prepping labeled containers and calling it enrichment.”

Kolt mutters to me. “We have to get her a phone. Or a carrier pigeon. Preferably one that bites.”

“Both,” I say. “Sit.” I guide Jessica to the back corner booth with the best sightlines in the building. She slides in, and the bond hums, good job. I plant my palm on the table and lean close enough that only she hears me. “If anyone touches you in here, I handle it. No arguing.”

Her mouth quirks. “Yes, Alpha.”

I give her a look that says we’ll revisit that in private and straighten as my brothers sit.

Ezra materializes with soda and a plate of fries like he’s psychic. Kolt immediately drags the plate toward Jessica and nudges it at her with two fingers. “Doctor’s orders,” he says. “I’m the doctor.”

“You’re not a doctor,” Xander says.

“I have stickers,” Kolt counters. “Same difference.”

Jessica picks up a fry, still wary but loosening despite herself. “Thanks.”

“Welcome to Snarl.” Kolt sweeps a hand at the chaos. “Where we serve food, drinks, and unsolicited Doyle opinions.”

“I’ve noticed,” she says, side-eyeing me, then laughs.

Xander studies her, assessing without making her feel cornered. “How’d you get here?”

“Drove,” she says, a shade defensive.

“Ex-military,” Kolt explains to her, gesturing at Xander. “He likes exits and covers.” He taps his own chest. “I like snacks and vibes.”

Jessica looks between us, the weight of this new world settling on her shoulders without breaking her. “Your brothers are… not what I expected.”

“Terrible?” Kolt offers.

“Loud?” Xander adds.

“Actually kind of comforting,” she admits, like the words surprise her.

Kolt beams, smug. “Told you. Handsome one.”

“Reserve judgment until he starts alphabetizing your pantry,” Xander mutters.

“He wishes,” Kolt shoots back. “He labels his ammo cans.”

“Because the labels matter,” Xander says, scandalized.

I let them run interference, let the humor sand down the edges of the night. Jessica starts eating the fries without realizing it, like her body remembers what safety tastes like. Her shoulders ease, her heartbeat slows, and my bear finally goes quiet.

We end up ordering burgers for the table.

Kolt talks too much and somehow convinces her to try the onion rings with his ridiculous sauce mix.

She pretends to protest, then gives in, and the second she laughs at something he says, I know she’s got a soft spot for the idiot.

My bear bristles at that, possessive, primitive, but it fades fast. I want her close with my family. I want her to have people.

I reach under the table, palm up. She sets her hand in mine without looking, like that’s always been the way we sit. Heat slides up my arm and spreads. For now, that’s enough. The bar holds. My brothers watch the doors.

Somewhere east, the ridge exhales, and then inhales again, slow and hungry, like a sleeping thing with teeth. Declan’s out there. And whatever walked him past the line isn’t finished.

But my mate is here, fingers warm in my hand, telling my brothers they’re comforting. I’ll take the win.