Finding Ryder

Chapter 21

Ryder's POV

Immobile. She has me statue still with one word from her lips. The wolf inside me exposes the soft side of his neck to the command. It is instinct, but to him, it is worship. She has done this twice now. Taken command of my body, submitted my wholeness to her word. I am Alpha-born. My mate is not supposed to be able to do this.

She is.

The wolf is besotted. He watches every movement and listens to every word with loving reverence. His female, I think he is claiming in our shared mind. I've considered him insane for so long. Bitterness is hard to taste. His whole essence is attuned to her. I can't stop looking at her, either. For that, he shows me the sharp end of his canine. That, at least, is a familiar picture.

Jessica takes command of all wolves. The power she contains wraps around each vertebra, pressing on every inch of my bones. I feel it in my soul. Knees collapse under the power she wields. The pressure should be unbearable. I've only bent to my father's wolf, and that has been a fight of wills for years now. Age, and something I can't quite name taking his strength. Giving me the upper hand even in my immature body. It took the effort to stand up to my father, real pain in the skin, but I prevailed.

I have no option but to bend to Jessica's power. Surprisingly, it feels natural. More shocking, the wolf inside me obeys without question. If I had done what I should have years ago, what my father advised me to do, none of this would be happening right now. I am years late, but I finally listen, follow my father's advice, and let the wolf's nature guide me. 

How is she even real? A female Alpha? My mate.

Rage boils inside Jessica. I feel the burning in my stomach. A need to taste the blood of all wolves who've harmed her raises until I taste my own. I think the wolf is laughing at me. It is hard to decipher his language—another one of my failings.

He is her mate. I am not needed. Is that what he is saying to me? Feels like it. 

Irony is I thought those same thoughts, when I looked into the eyes of another. Except I think he may be right, while I was implicitly wrong. So fucking wrong.

I have no choice but to follow behind her as she leaves the great hall. The power she unleashed is wrapped inside her again. Wolves are breathing again. Her insides are twisting in pain-filled knots. I try to use the bond, our connection, to get inside her. 

I need inside her. 

No path is available. She has closed herself off, and only the most potent emotions leak through. My wolf whimpers out loud, crying for his mate. Our mate, I remind him, but he ignores me, shifting to take our skin, rushing to be her comfort.

Jessica is silver and steel. The wolf wraps around her feet, nipping at her heels. He would do cartwheels for a sliver of attention from this female. His antics are useless. Jessica finds solitude in her sanctuary, and neither of us is invited in. He is hurt, but he only blames me for our situation. If he can't be beside her, he will ensure no one can come near her.

I count her breaths—not in numbers; that would be weird. It is the inhale and exhale of air traveling inside her body that has me mesmerized and consumed.

I want to be the air, but I am unworthy to be the ground. Minutes turn to hours. Darkness has swallowed most sounds inside the packhouse. Sleep won't come. 

I think she is asleep, but I'm not sure. What kind of wolf am I? I can't tell if my female is asleep. He knows. He isn't talking to me, though. Not that I would understand his language. Another one of my sins. I have spent years blocking him out, and now I am desperate for the connection.