The Alpha's Witch

Chapter Thirty Three

BRAXTON

An irritated growl erupts from my chest. It's been hours and still nothing. Not a single fucking trail of the scent can be traced, leading me to believe it's a fucking ploy. Just like Adeline had said to me over and over again in the car, and in my office when I left her for this shit.

I'd worked myself up, made myself think that this was going to turn into something. A fight, or at least some sort of confrontation with the ancient witch who left their scent on purpose. But no. It's absolutely nothing but confusion and dissatisfaction that I don't get to sink my teeth into someone else who has threatened my mate.

Irritation boils within me, intensifying with each ragged breath that I inhale and exhale through my snout, until I reach a point where I break. My wolf snarls one last time in annoyance before turning in the opposite direction we had been heading and starts sprinting back towards the pack house.

Back to Adeline.

I know she's safe. No one's informed me otherwise and Nora had even mind linked me to say that she'd talked to her for a little bit. Despite that, I can't help but feel a sense of concern start to mix with my seething irritation.

If this really was a distraction of some sort, then I can't help but wonder what the ancient witch could be gaining by this. My wolf speeds up to sprint through the forest, weaving in and out of the trees faster to get to our mate even sooner.

I need to confirm with my own eyes that she's okay.

A little over fifteen minutes later, I'm shifting back into my human form and pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. I ignore the stares from my pack members who are all silently questioning for answers, and make my way through the house with a single purpose.

My wolf settles more with every step I take towards the office door, getting closer to Adeline's scent, which grows stronger and stronger before I turn the handle and my eyes immediately lock with hers. A wave of comfort and relief washes over me at the mere sight of her, standing perfectly fine in front of me.

Her expression mirrors my own as I shut the door and close the space between us, trapping her small frame in between my body and the desk behind her.

My hands sink onto her hips, seeking their way underneath the fabric of her shirt until we're skin to skin. It's a feeling I don't think I'll ever get used to. One I don't want to get used to, because it's thrilling every single time. The sparks that set off between us is a warmth that I will forever crave and desire.

Her lips part slightly when I lift her up onto the desk, her hands instinctively come up to grip onto my shirt. I settle my body in between her legs as I dip my head to meet hers.

"You were right." I admit.

"I know."

Her voice is off and I feel my eyes narrow at the slight shakiness of her whisper. "Know how?"

She doesn't look at me and I find that tense irritation sinking it's claws back into me. I nudge her chin up with a soft hand, urging her eyes to meet mine. When they don't, I growl, "Look at me."

Her lips falter, shaping into a frown and her breath stills for a moment. Only then do I notice the single tear that escapes and slides down her cheek. The pad of my thumb swipes it from her cheek and I try to swallow my anger.

My voice is softer this time, "Look at me, please."

When her eyelids lift and her green eyes flicker up to mine, I don't feel the sense of ease I was hoping for. Instead, I find myself wanting to crumble. The sight of her eyes brimming with tears could bring me to my knees—to beg her to tell me what's wrong so I can fix it all. Mend everything that's wrong.