God, he hoped so.
He had waited centuries for her. Before the prophecy, Alexander had long resigned himself to living out his existence alone. And now that he had finally found her, he wasn’t about to lose his chance.
He took a step toward the lake, his body moving on instinct. Her scent hit him. It slammed into him like a fist to the gut, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Alexander dropped to his knees. His fingers clawed into the earth as his hunger surged violently. His hands ran over the ground, searching for the source of that intoxicating scent.
She was in the water. Her scent shouldn’t have been this strong. But it was. It was everywhere.
His gaze locked onto a pile of clothes scattered near the grass. They weren't hers. These belonged to the male werewolf.
Alexander snatched up the shirt, bringing it to his nose. The scent hit him full-force, pure and unfiltered. His fangs dropped instantly, punching through his gums.
The need to bite, to feed, to claim tore through him. His whole body trembled with restraint he barely had.
He dropped the shirt as if it burned his hands and backed away, retreating to the trees. From there, he watched the male werewolf in the water, confusion and hunger twisting inside his chest.
What the fuck was going on?
He drew in slow, steady breaths, forcing himself to calm down, to think through the mess. Alexander couldn’t believe it.
The blood he’d been craving wasn’t from his bride, it was from the werewolf who was swimming with his mate.
Why did he associate the werewolf’s scent and the taste of his blood with her?
It didn’t make sense.
Alexander’s gaze drifted back to the water. The werewolf was watching her with such intensity, like she was the center of his universe.
He’s in love with her, Alexander realized. The werewolf was in loved with his bride. Alexander balled his hands into fists thinking of a thousand ways to kill a supernatural being, but then the werewolf turned and stared directly at him as if he could sense him there.
Goosebumps erupted across Alexander’s skin. The stare felt like a physical touch, a hot press of a hand against his chest. He tried to shake it off; to convince himself he’d imagined it, but the feeling lingered.
Then, just as suddenly, the werewolf looked away, his attention going back to his bride. Alexander watched silently as the wolf swam toward her, grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her out of the lake. His anger doubled as he watched the werewolf put his hands on her and send her away. Away from him.
The urge to follow her was strong, but Alexander knew he had to deal with the werewolf before he claimed his bride. Besides, there was the blood thing. The blood Alexander needed.
Fuck, why him?
After sending her away, the clearing fell quiet. Only the two of them remained.
The werewolf stood bathed in moonlight, water trickling down his massive frame, every muscle cut, hard and gleaming. His blond curls clung to his head and fell over his forehead, framing a strong, striking face. His stormy grey eyes were fixed on Alexander, wary, as his teeth sank into his full bottom lip.
Alexander clenched his jaw, furious that he couldn’t stop staring.
He held his breath as the werewolf began to approach, movingwith a slow, sinuous grace that made no sense on someone so large.
Something primal and electric coiled between them, humming in the cool night air.
He stopped only a few paces away. They stared, sizing each other up for what felt like an eternity.
Alexander’s jaw ticked, the silence getting to him.
“Are you just going to stare at me?” he growled.
“I’m waiting for you to make your move,” the werewolf said, stepping closer. His scent rolled forward in waves. That earthy, wild, and intoxicating scent filled Alexander's nose. He shouldn’t have found it enticing. It was wrong on every level. His bride was just through the trees. He should go to her.
But after centuries of breathing nothing but that scent in the dark, it had woven itself into him. There was no separating it from his hunger.
He was drawn to it… to him.