The Alpha's Rogue ✔️

27 | Fit The Crime

4973 words

She'd never felt so peaceful.

A warmth surrounded her, numbing the dull pain that nudged at the back of her mind. Her body was weary. An ache in her bones prodded, poking her like a tiresome stone in her shoe, yet miniscule enough to be eclipsed by a calm that soothed and comforted like a fluffy cardigan and hot chocolate on a cool autumn evening.

Curling tighter into the source of that warmth, Savannah sighed contentedly.

Sparks tingled across her face as hair was brushed away from her eyes.

"You feeling alright, little Alpha?" A warm kiss was pressed to her forehead, the softness of it causing her heart to flutter.

It didn't take much effort to open her eyes at the sound of that rich, husky voice. Golden light streamed all around them, alighting her mate's face in warm tones that enriched the tanned hue of his skin. Hazel eyes watched her intently, a lazy smile lifting the corners of soft lips and creasing a chin dusted with dark stubble.

She shifted slightly, pulling back to get a better look at her stunning mate, only to realise his arms had her caged against him. A low growl emanated from his chest when she tried to move too far away for his liking. Feeling no inclination to leave the strong security he offered, she snuggled closer and turned to examine her surroundings.

Her last memories were of deadly growls and tortured screams, biting smoke and crackling fire, then falling into a raging river. Zion had been keeping her safe as they fled from the war zone, and she didn't worry about what had happened in the time since she blacked out.

Sunlight spilled into the large bedroom through wafer thin curtains that billowed with a gentle breeze. Beyond the gauze material, a balcony extended from the open doorway and overlooked rolling green hills. The twitter of birds and subtle buzzing of insects played on her senses, soothing the harsh memories of last night.

A sense of peace pervaded her as she surveyed the creamy stucco walls, buttery yellow cornices, ornate wall lamps, and gilded antique dressers, wall desks and furniture that furnished the large suite-style room. It had a Greek villa feel to it, and Savannah smiled in the softness of silk sheets and pure country air that surrounded her.

"Where are we?" she asked quietly, her hushed voice a whisper so as not to disturb the tranquility of the morning.

"Tori's estate," came her mate's equally soft reply, a quiet rumble against her back that vibrated through her body.

She stiffened at the name of the brash and outgoing shewolf who clearly had history with Zion.

He continued, his fingertips lightly brushing her shoulder in soothing circles. "She owns a hacienda on the edge of the forest. It's well hidden, so we always come here to recuperate after the night of games."

She could only nod, suddenly hating the place that had been so welcoming before. "Is she okay?" she managed to push past the dryness in her throat. She knew Tori had been roughened up in the fight, and deserved thanks for the hospitality she now extended.

"Sure. She always is," Zion replied mildly. "But you didn't answer my question." Reaching his hand up, he tipped her chin back and twisted her head to face him.

His eyes were filled with warmth and concern, so different to the cold hatred that radiated from them whilst ripping Regan's heart out. Savannah fought the urge to shiver, and instead moved closer to the source of heat that thawed her heart despite her misgivings towards him.

Reaching up, she cupped his face and pulled his lips to hers. She wanted to communicate how good she was feeling through action, not just words. Things might still be messy between them, but one thing would never change. Zion was her mate, and she would always love kissing him.