The Alpha’s Fated Choice (Alpha's Fated Encounter Trilogy #1)

He’s badly injured. There’s a large gash in his chest, and his right arm is practically shredded. It’s obvious he was in a fight and barely escaped with his life.

It takes me a few seconds to piece everything together now that I have the proof in front of me. Alex is the black wolf. So, that night when I was running away, he was the one who approached me at the stream. No wonder he didn’t kill me. No wonder he didn’t let me leave. He wanted me to go back to Oakrest. Suddenly, there’s a whole new nuance to the black wolf’s gentle treatment of me.

It still doesn’t explain why he sought me out that night or how he knew I would be there, but I know I cannot leave him here. I now have even more reason to help the black wolf: he’s my fated mate. Even if he did reject me, I cannot just let him die. Noah will definitely kill him if he finds him. After all, he’s the enemy.

Even so, Alex doesn’t attack me. He is staring at me, but he doesn’t seem to see me. There’s a dazed look in his eyes, a lack of focus. I take his arm and put it around my neck; he doesn’t protest, almost as if he instinctively knows I won’t hurt him. I can be angry with him, hate him even, but seeing him suffering like this is unbearable.

We’re close to the edge of town, and I tell him, “Don’t worry. I’ll take you to the motel. Your friends—”

He makes a distressed sound, but he can’t seem to speak properly. On closer inspection, I realize that someone has attempted to slit his throat. The cut is red and deep, but it seems to have healed to some superficial extent.

“You don’t want to go to the motel?” I ask, figuring he can at least nod or shake his head if he can’t talk. I don’t understand why he doesn’t want to go there, but he must have a good reason. Otherwise, why would he not want to be where his friends and fiancée are?

We don’t have time to waste, so when he shakes his head, I reluctantly inform him, “Well, the only other option is my apartment.” He lets out a grunt of approval, and while I don’t want him in my home, I don’t have much of a choice. It’s either that or leave him here to die.

I won’t be able to use the front door to the building since I’m pretty sure Orlando is still watching it. But to use the back entrance, we’ll have to walk further. Letting out a sigh, I look at my injured companion and ask him, “Can you get on my back?”

He doesn’t respond, and his steps are getting slower. I think he’s on the verge of losing consciousness. If he passes out now, I don’t think I’ll be able to drag him all the way home. Maneuvering my body, I shift my weight to force him onto my back. He’s heavier than I imagined. It is a struggle to carry him, but I manage. It takes me quite a while to get to my apartment; on the way, I keep sniffing his arm to make sure he’s not giving off the scent of blood and I’m not reopening any of his injuries. If Orlando or anybody else smells his blood, it’s game over for both of us.

I reach the rear exit of my building and open the door cautiously. We have an elevator; I’ve never used it, but today seems like a good day to try it out. There’s no possible way I can carry Alex all the way to the top floor. I’m already out of breath, and there is a limit to my strength, as well.

Fortunately, at this time of night, the tenants of the building are usually in bed or out at the bar. I spent a good couple of hours following Noah and his men looking for the black wolf, so it’s quite late. I’ve just unlocked my door when I hear Drew’s door open behind me. Without thinking, I shove Alex inside my apartment and slam the door shut, turning to face my neighbor.

Drew studies me. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I was just heading home.”

“Why are you panting?” He gives me a concerned look. “Your face is all red.”

“Is it?” I try to sound normal, but a hysterical sound leaves my lips.

“Is everything alright with you, Sophia?”

“Peachy.”

“Peachy?” Drew echoes, blinking.

We stare at each other, and then he shakes his head. “I’m too tired to deal with this. As long as you’re okay, it’s fine.”

He walks down the steps, and I wonder where he’s going at this time of night. Tim must be in bed. For him to leave his son alone at night is odd. But I have my own problems to worry about.

I wait for Drew to be out of sight before opening my door. Alex is sprawled on the ground, unconscious. I wince at the sight. “Sorry about that.”

He doesn’t respond since he’s passed out cold. Taking a deep breath, I drag him all the way to my bedroom, where I pick him up and lay him down on the bed. The first thing I do is check his pockets for the small bottle that he once used on my injury. I find it in his jacket, but it’s empty. I look at him, my brows knitting together. He must have sustained a pretty serious wound if he had to use it. He probably needed it to stop his bleeding so the security guys couldn’t smell him.

I remove his boots and then cut off his shirt, which is already badly torn. His torso has a whole slew of bruises. Some of them are red and purple. He has cuts across his chest and his stomach, and the slit on his neck is quite deep. His left arm is completely shredded. I try to move it and can tell the bone is broken. He must have washed all the blood off himself before using the potion in the vial because it is all quite clean, considering. Still, there is no way his arm will heal quickly from this.

My pulse is racing as I study his still form. What did they do to him? This doesn’t seem like a normal attack. It almost seems like he was deliberately tortured.

I retrieve my first aid kit. I don’t have much in the way of medicines and bandages, but I do occasionally purchase some healing potions from the local witch.

Not all witches live in covens. Some prefer to live independently. Those who reside in shifter territory usually have contracts with the Alphas to be able to live there peacefully in exchange for their services. Healers and witches often work together to produce potions that are effective on shifters. Witches also collaborate with designers to create clothing that disappears when shifters shift forms and reappears, undamaged, when they regain their human shape.

I look for the healing potion that should work on internal injuries. Dismay fills me when I realize I only have one bottle. I open the cork and press the vial to Alex’s lips. However, since he’s passed out, the liquid spills down the side of his mouth. I grind my teeth, trying to think of a solution. From the look of the bruises that are growing on his stomach, he needs this potion, and it has to be taken internally. How am I supposed to feed it to him when he won’t cooperate?

I stare down at the bottle, and then an idea strikes me. My face instantly starts to burn.

Anything but that.