Free The Guardian Alpha by Evelyn Glass
Authors: Evelyn Glass
another figment. His desires to see her, to talk to her, to feel her could be so great, they manifested in all of this.
But, no. Jay was certain this was his Kristi, his Mate. His heart thrummed eagerly. The scent of sun-baked rock and sandalwood danced along his senses. He collided into her, just as she turned to face him. Kristi gasped as his arms crushed her against him, his muscles tight against her shoulders.
“Kristi,” Jay murmured, heaving everything into that single word – his fears, his worries, his love, his fondness. He pummeled the link with everything inside him, letting every last drop flow. He hoped Kristi would allow it to sink into her.
She let out ragged breaths, her eyes wide as her brain almost shut down from shock. This wasn't what she wanted. Despite her warring thoughts earlier, as she crept around the trailer, Kristi's stomach coiled in on itself. Her fingers curled against his sides, feeling his firm body under her fingertips. The ache of need and desire lit across her nerves. She wanted to return his fond embrace and lean into his body. She wanted his attention and she wanted to caress him lovingly. The whims itched along her arms and sunk into her bones.
As she struggled to control herself, Jay unleashed an onslaught of emotions through the connection: fondness, fear, worries, frustrations, exasperation, bitterness, self-depreciation, and discovery. More and more of it piled into Kristi's head until she could understand, without words, what Jay's daily life had entailed.
Goldbridge had done much of what her pack had done. They trained and prepared weapons. They discussed battle plans. The Nameless Sentinels called in reinforcements and ran defensive drills. Kristi swallowed, Jay's apprehension tinged all of these fuzzy memories. Her heart ached; Jay's concern for her pack struck her.
There was something else under all this uncertainty. Something revealed. Something he was eager to show others, but something no one else wanted to hear. Kristi's eyebrows furrowed as she sensed this discovery had to do with her pack.
Suddenly remembering herself, she shoved Jay away. He stumbled back a step and both were left missing the mutual body heat. She set her face in an angry scowl, forcing her eyebrows lower. She clung to her anger, her rage, her bitterness. Meanwhile, fondness and delight danced at the edges of her thoughts. Kristi focused on Jay's vague discovery and demanded, “What is this information you found out about my pack, Sentinel?”
“So, we're back to that name?” Jay's bright gaze dulled and his smile curved into a frown. His own eyebrows furrowed as his gaze took in Kristi entirely. She stood awkwardly, with squared shoulders and crossed arms. Jay pursed his lips before turning sharply. She couldn't even momentarily enjoy this reunion. Part of Jay couldn't blame her, but that didn't mean he had to like it. “Follow me.”
He made his way into his trailer, without looking back at Kristi. She followed, wordlessly. Heat clawed up her body as she remembered their last meeting in his trailer's dreamscape. She closed her eyes and swallowed down tears as she stood on the stairs.
She didn't want to go any farther. She didn't want to see his refrigerator or his living room or that dark box designated as a television. Kristi didn't want to acknowledge how consuming her connection to Jay was.
When Jay realized she wasn't following, he didn't argue. He merely trudged on. A few seconds later, he returned from the innards of his trailer. He leaned in the jamb of his front door, wrinkled papers in his hands. Jay wasn't even sure if the papers would be there, on the floor by his recliner where he had left them, but it seemed fate was on his side. He held out the sheaf of paper to Kristi and she eyed it suspiciously.
“They're copies of the agreement,” grunted Jay, averting his gaze from Kristi. Her very presence sent warmth burrowing deep
But, no. Jay was certain this was his Kristi, his Mate. His heart thrummed eagerly. The scent of sun-baked rock and sandalwood danced along his senses. He collided into her, just as she turned to face him. Kristi gasped as his arms crushed her against him, his muscles tight against her shoulders.
“Kristi,” Jay murmured, heaving everything into that single word – his fears, his worries, his love, his fondness. He pummeled the link with everything inside him, letting every last drop flow. He hoped Kristi would allow it to sink into her.
She let out ragged breaths, her eyes wide as her brain almost shut down from shock. This wasn't what she wanted. Despite her warring thoughts earlier, as she crept around the trailer, Kristi's stomach coiled in on itself. Her fingers curled against his sides, feeling his firm body under her fingertips. The ache of need and desire lit across her nerves. She wanted to return his fond embrace and lean into his body. She wanted his attention and she wanted to caress him lovingly. The whims itched along her arms and sunk into her bones.
As she struggled to control herself, Jay unleashed an onslaught of emotions through the connection: fondness, fear, worries, frustrations, exasperation, bitterness, self-depreciation, and discovery. More and more of it piled into Kristi's head until she could understand, without words, what Jay's daily life had entailed.
Goldbridge had done much of what her pack had done. They trained and prepared weapons. They discussed battle plans. The Nameless Sentinels called in reinforcements and ran defensive drills. Kristi swallowed, Jay's apprehension tinged all of these fuzzy memories. Her heart ached; Jay's concern for her pack struck her.
There was something else under all this uncertainty. Something revealed. Something he was eager to show others, but something no one else wanted to hear. Kristi's eyebrows furrowed as she sensed this discovery had to do with her pack.
Suddenly remembering herself, she shoved Jay away. He stumbled back a step and both were left missing the mutual body heat. She set her face in an angry scowl, forcing her eyebrows lower. She clung to her anger, her rage, her bitterness. Meanwhile, fondness and delight danced at the edges of her thoughts. Kristi focused on Jay's vague discovery and demanded, “What is this information you found out about my pack, Sentinel?”
“So, we're back to that name?” Jay's bright gaze dulled and his smile curved into a frown. His own eyebrows furrowed as his gaze took in Kristi entirely. She stood awkwardly, with squared shoulders and crossed arms. Jay pursed his lips before turning sharply. She couldn't even momentarily enjoy this reunion. Part of Jay couldn't blame her, but that didn't mean he had to like it. “Follow me.”
He made his way into his trailer, without looking back at Kristi. She followed, wordlessly. Heat clawed up her body as she remembered their last meeting in his trailer's dreamscape. She closed her eyes and swallowed down tears as she stood on the stairs.
She didn't want to go any farther. She didn't want to see his refrigerator or his living room or that dark box designated as a television. Kristi didn't want to acknowledge how consuming her connection to Jay was.
When Jay realized she wasn't following, he didn't argue. He merely trudged on. A few seconds later, he returned from the innards of his trailer. He leaned in the jamb of his front door, wrinkled papers in his hands. Jay wasn't even sure if the papers would be there, on the floor by his recliner where he had left them, but it seemed fate was on his side. He held out the sheaf of paper to Kristi and she eyed it suspiciously.
“They're copies of the agreement,” grunted Jay, averting his gaze from Kristi. Her very presence sent warmth burrowing deep