Page 6 of The Alpha’s Runaway Mate (Evermore Hollow #1)

SIX

NOLAN

The shift tears through me like fire racing through dry grass, hot, unstoppable, violent.

Bones crack and realign, muscles stretch and reform, and then it’s over.

The echo of it rolls through me like thunder, leaving me standing barefoot in the dirt, chest heaving, sweat cooling on my skin in the early morning air.

The wind should bite. The ground should be cold, but I don’t feel any of it.

The only thing I feel is her. Jessica. My mate.

She’s on the trail a few feet away, frozen like she’s stepped into a nightmare she doesn’t understand.

Her wide eyes lock on mine, hands trembling at her sides.

Her lips part, and her pulse thrums a frantic rhythm I can hear even over my own ragged breathing.

The bond hums between us, electric, alive, strung too tight. Heat threads from her chest straight into mine, burning me from the inside out.

Her fear hits first, sharp and bright like lightning, but underneath it is something deeper, curiosity, disbelief, and that sweet edge of want that’s been haunting me since the moment she walked into Snarl.

I catch it in the quick hitch of her breath, in the way her eyes flick over my body before darting away.

“Jessica,” I rasp, my voice rough from the shift, deeper than usual. “Don’t run.”

She flinches but doesn’t move. Her gaze skims down again, and that’s when I realize why. I’m standing here with nothing on, completely bare, power humming through me, skin flushed with heat.

The Alpha in me wants to close the distance, to soothe her fear, to touch her until she understands she’s mine. The man in me knows one wrong move could send her running into the woods. I dig my heels into the earth and breathe slow, forcing stillness. She needs to see a man, not a monster.

“You,” her voice shakes. “You were a bear.”

“I am a bear,” I say quietly, taking one careful step forward. “And a man. I’m both.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move. The sunlight cuts through the trees in thin, golden blades, catching on her hair. She looks impossibly soft, sleep-rumpled hair, flushed cheeks, the quick rise and fall of her chest. Beautiful. So damn beautiful.

The bond tugs harder, a rope around my ribs pulling me toward her. I fight it, dragging in a steady breath. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” she lies. “You just… turned into a man right in front of me. Forgive me if I’m still trying to catch up.”

A faint smile touches my mouth. “You’re taking it better than most.”

Her eyes drop again, and her face goes redder. She’s trying not to look, but her gaze keeps slipping, and the sight wrecks me. She shouldn’t be thinking about my body, not after what she just saw. But she is.

“Sorry,” I say roughly. “Shifting doesn’t exactly come with clothes.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she mutters. The sound of her voice, low and breathy, shoots through me like a live wire.

The bear inside me rumbles, a low vibration deep in my chest. He wants her close, wants her under our hands, wants to mark her so every supe in Evermore Hollow knows she’s ours.

But she’s human. She doesn’t know what she’s standing in front of, what this bond is doing to her…

what it’s doing to me. “You feel it, don’t you?

” I ask softly, taking a step closer. “The pull.”

Her eyes flick up to mine, wide, uncertain. “I don’t know what I feel.”

“Yeah, you do,” I whisper. “You felt it the second we touched. You dreamed about me last night. I felt it too.”

Her breath stutters. “You, what?”

“The bond,” I say, voice rough like I’m confessing a sin. “It ties us together. I couldn’t stay away from you if I tried. And now that you’ve seen what I am, there’s no hiding from it anymore.”

She stares at me, stunned. I can feel the storm of emotion rolling off her, fear, confusion, heat.

The bond between us pulses stronger, so hot I swear I can see it shimmering in the air.

I take another step, close enough now that her scent surrounds me.

Soft skin, human sweetness, the faintest trace of adrenaline.

My self-control is hanging on by a thread.

“I should give you time,” I say, though my voice doesn’t sound human anymore. “But every second I’m near you, it’s harder to remember why.”

“Nolan…” she whispers, hearing my name from her lips nearly undoes me.

Slowly, I reach out and brush my fingertips against her cheek. She shivers but doesn’t pull away. Her skin is warm and smooth, and when her lips part on a shaky breath, the last of my restraint frays. “You’re mine,” I whisper. “And you don’t even know what that means yet.”

The bond flares, bright, blinding, and I feel her pulse echo in my chest. Her pupils dilate, her breathing quickens, and the world narrows to just her. I should step back. I don’t. My thumb slides along her jaw, trembling with restraint.

“Jessica,” I rasp, my voice half man, half beast. “Tell me to stop.”

She doesn’t. “Nolan…”

The sound of my name unravels what little control I have left. My hand finds the back of her neck, and I step into her space. She leans toward me like gravity itself is pulling her in. The bond snaps tight, heat, energy, breath, all of it colliding until we’re chest to chest, skin to skin.

I lower my head and kiss her. It starts slow, cautious, but the moment she lets out a soft, helpless sound, I lose the battle.

The kiss deepens, dark and claiming. My thumb traces the curve of her jaw as she melts against me like she was made to fit there.

Her hands clutch at my bare arms, fingers digging in just enough to draw a growl from deep in my chest.

The bond ignites. Every heartbeat, every breath, becomes shared. Her pulse drums through me, her warmth presses against me, and the line between us blurs.

I taste her, sweet, human, perfect, and it’s the most dangerous thing I’ve ever tasted. My hands find her waist, drawing her in until soft curves meet hard muscle. She trembles, but it’s not fear anymore. It’s the bond. It’s us.

When I finally pull back, it’s only far enough to rest my forehead against hers. We’re both breathing hard, the air between us hot and charged. “That,” I murmur, my thumb brushing her lower lip, “is the bond. That’s what it feels like.”

Her voice is barely a whisper. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

I look down at her. “Neither have I.” My voice comes out rough, scraped raw. “You’re mine, Jessica. Even if you don’t understand it yet, even if you don’t want to believe it. You’re mine.”

Her breath shudders. “Then don’t stop.”

For a heartbeat, I almost don’t. But I force myself to, resting my forehead against hers again. She deserves to know what this means before she gets lost in it. “Soon,” I promise. “But right now, I need you to trust me.”

Her fingers tighten around my arms, her pulse racing under my hand. She nods, small, uncertain, but enough.

I brush my nose against hers, breathing her in like she’s the first clean breath I’ve taken in years.

Her scent fills me, grounding me. My voice drops low.

“You know what I am now,” I murmur. “And you need to understand something else.” My thumb traces her jaw, and the tremor that runs through her sinks straight into my chest. “You’re not just anyone to me, Jessica. You’re my mate.”

Her eyes go wide. I can see her pulse jump at her throat, her breath catch.

She doesn’t speak, but her body reacts, heart pounding, heat rolling off her in waves.

I lower my head, my lips brushing her ear.

“That's why I can’t stay away,” I whisper.

“Why being this close feels like I’m losing my mind.

” My control’s frayed to nothing, every instinct begging to claim her, to mark her, to make her mine in every way that counts.

Her breath stutters. “I’m your… what?”

“My mate,” I say again, the word vibrating through me, half man, half bear. “It’s more than attraction. More than choice. It’s fate. It’s nature choosing for us.”

She frowns faintly. “You’re saying we’re… what? Soulmates?”

I almost smile. “Something like that. Except this bond isn’t built on poetry or luck. It’s built into who we are. You were made for me, and I was made for you. When shifters find their mate, it’s permanent. There’s no undoing it. No one else will ever feel right again.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. The wind moves through the trees, carrying her scent across my tongue, warm skin, faint fear, and something new that makes my pulse spike. My body reacts on instinct, every muscle drawn tight with the effort to keep control.

Her gaze flickers to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “And if I don’t want that?”

The question cuts deep, but I force myself to breathe. “Then I’ll wait,” I tell her honestly. “As long as it takes. But the bond doesn’t fade. It’ll keep pulling us back together until we stop fighting it.”

She shakes her head slightly, like she’s trying to fight it, but I can see it working through her, her pulse syncing with mine, her pupils dilating, her breath catching every time I move.

The connection’s already there, deep as bone.

“I can feel it,” she says softly. “When you’re close, it’s like… it’s hard to think.”

“Because your body knows before your mind does.” My voice drops to a rough whisper. “It knows you’re mine.”

Her eyes search mine, confusion and want tangled together. “And what does that make you?”

I lean in just enough that our lips almost touch. “Yours.”

The bond surges between us, pulsing hot and alive. She sways toward me, and I catch her, my hand sliding up her back to steady her. Her heartbeat thunders against my palm, syncing with mine until there’s no telling where one ends and the other begins.

“This is insane,” she whispers.

“Maybe,” I say quietly. “But it’s real.”

The world fades around us until there’s nothing left but her. When I finally speak again, my voice is steady but low, thick with everything I can’t say yet. “You don’t have to understand it right now. Just know I’ll never hurt you. Not in this form, not in any form. You’re mine to protect.”

She hesitates, then whispers, “Then what happens now?”

I brush a strand of hair from her face, my hand lingering at her temple. “Now?” I murmur. “You breathe. You let it sink in. And when you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything.”

The bond hums between us, steady and warm, a heartbeat shared. I force myself to step back, even though it feels like tearing something out of my chest.

But she doesn’t move away. Instead, she lets her fingers graze my chest, light, tentative. The bond flares bright, sharp as a spark catching flame.

Her eyes widen. “That’s what this is?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “That’s it.” Every breath tastes like heat and want, and when I kiss her again, it’s deeper, hungrier, everything I’ve been holding back poured into that single, consuming moment.