Page 17 of The Forgery Mate (Taken by His Alpha #6)

“I know everything about your life.” Ezra’s quiet hiss somehow carries more impact than a shout.

“I’ve researched every detail, every alias, every forgery.

Dug up information about your grandfather.

The paintings. Everything I could find about the man who taught a child how to pick locks and forge signatures. ”

My lungs forget how to draw breath. No one alive knows those details but me. “How?—”

“You think you’re so clever.” His thumb brushes my cheekbone. “So careful. But you left fingerprints all over my life, Ren. All over my heart.”

His expression shifts, the anger giving way to raw vulnerability. The moonlight catches in his eyes, reflecting depths I can never begin to chart. He appears so young and so ancient at the same time, and it steals what remains of my breath.

Then his mouth covers mine, fierce and demanding, our lips crashing together with enough force to bruise.

His hands move to frame my face, holding me in place as he claims me with a desperation that matches my own rising hunger.

Our teeth click, the kiss more battle than romance, each of us trying to consume the other before we can be consumed.

His hands drop to my ass, lifting me onto my toes to grind our hardening lengths together, and I gasp into his mouth. His tongue thrusts deeper, the tartness from the champagne he drank flooding my senses, drowning rational thought beneath a tide of primal want.

We break apart only when our lungs scream for air, both panting as if we’ve run miles. His forehead rests on mine, our gasps mingling in the space between us, and a tremor runs through him.

“You’re mine.” His breath fans hot across my lips. “No one else ever saw you. No one else ever could. Only me.”

The words should be terrifying, but instead, they feel like a beckoning to come home. His scent surrounds me, wrapping me in the pheromones that have haunted my dreams since the day I ran.

He kisses me once more, softer this time, his lips gentle on mine despite the tension thrumming through his body.

When we break apart, he stares at my face as if afraid I’ll disappear again.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I whisper, the confession inadequate for the damage I’ve done. “I thought I was protecting you.”

“From what? Yourself?” He traces my cheekbone. “Or us?”

The question cuts deep. From the investigation that would follow if they discovered who was dating the youngest Rockford. From the shame when his family learned what kind of person he’d let into his bed. From the disappointment when he realized I could never be what he deserved.

I pull back as far as he’ll allow. “You deserve better.”

“Better than what?” Anger flashes across his face. “Better than the only person who’s ever made me feel alive?”

“Better than a liar.” The words scrape my throat raw. “Better than someone who’s spent his life becoming other people because he doesn’t know who he is anymore.”

Ezra’s grip tightens, refusing to let me retreat. “I see who you are, Ren. I always have, even when you were hiding behind Knox or Lorenzo or whoever else you pretended to be.”

Now, the terror takes hold. No one should know me this well. No one should see through the careful constructions I’ve built around myself. And yet, Ezra does, and he has from the beginning. It’s why I ran. It’s why I should run again.

“You’re twenty-three,” I say, as if his age is the problem, not the criminal record waiting to catch up with me, not the lifetime of deception that defines my existence. “Your whole life is ahead of you.”

“And I want you in it,” he rumbles, and my knees weaken. “Every day of it.”

Before I can argue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Ezra hesitates, reluctant to break this moment, but the persistent vibration demands attention.

He releases me with one hand to check the screen, relief flashing across his features as he reads the message. “Jade reached Rockford Manor. He’s safe.”

The tension drains from his shoulders, and an answering relief courses through me. At least one good thing came out of tonight.

“We need to get out of here,” Ezra says, all business now. “Security will be swarming the grounds soon.”

He releases me and steps back, the absence of his touch leaving me cold. “Wait here. I’ll bring the car around to the south gate. Meet me in two minutes.”

He pulls out his phone again, dialing as he walks. “Sebastian? It’s me. I’ve got him. Yes, we’re both fine. Meet you at the rendezvous point.”

I watch Ezra’s retreating back as he strides down the garden path, his figure growing smaller with each step.

The expensive suit he wore to play my submissive companion now hangs differently on his frame, the tailored perfection giving way to the dominant Alpha beneath.

Even in this, he adapts, shifts, and becomes what the situation requires.

Just like me.

I touch my lips, still tender from his kisses, the ghost of champagne lingering on my tongue.

Tonight came too close to disaster. If those guards had taken me into that room, if Ezra hadn’t found me in time... I shudder at the thought.

But it’s not only my narrow escape that sits like ice in my chest. It’s the knowledge that being with me puts Ezra at risk, too. His family name, his position, and his future could all be tarnished by association.

Right now, Ezra can still have everything. He’s young, powerful, and connected. His life stretches out in a thousand brilliant directions, each path open before him, doors just waiting for him to walk through.

And what do I have? Nothing but ghosts.

I close my eyes, remembering my grandfather’s face the last time I visited him in prison. How the light had gone out of him, how the hands, once capable of painting masterpieces, had become thin and trembling. How he died alone in an infirmary, surrounded by concrete walls instead of beauty.

Is that what I want for Ezra? To drag him down with me when the past inevitably catches up?

Two minutes, he said. Two minutes to decide the course of both our lives.

My hands clench at my sides, fingernails digging into my palms until the pain brings clarity.

I turn and run in the opposite direction, feet silent on the manicured lawn as I flee toward the eastern wall. My heart pounds, not from exertion but from the knowledge I’m leaving behind the only person who will ever truly see me.

But that’s why I have to go.

Because Ezra deserves someone whole, someone real.

As I scale the wall and drop to the other side, landing in a crouch on damp grass, I taste salt on my lips, and I swipe away the tears.

Straightening, I walk away from Halcyon Hall, from Ezra, and from the possibility of a life I never deserved.