After My Alpha Slept with His Former Mate

The first rumble of thunder jolted me awake. I sat up in bed, heart hammering against my ribs as another crash shook the small rental house. The digital clock on the nightstand read 2:17 AM, its red numbers glowing like a warning in the darkness. Outside, rain lashed against the windows with a vengeance, and I could feel Luna stirring restlessly within me, sharing my unease.

I threw off the covers, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. Sleep during thunderstorms had always been impossible for me—a trauma response from a childhood accident I rarely spoke about. The memories weren't even clear anymore, just the visceral reaction that left me wide-eyed and trembling whenever the sky turned violent.

I fumbled for the lamp switch, but before my fingers found it, the door opened. Joaquin stood in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the hallway light. Even in the darkness, I could feel the weight of his Lycan presence, but there was something different about it tonight—softer, deliberately muted.

"I thought you might be awake," he said, his voice a low rumble that somehow soothed rather than startled. He stepped into the room, carrying a steaming mug that filled the air with the scent of chamomile and lavender. "I made tea. It helps with the anxiety."

He handed me the mug, and our fingers brushed. The contact sent a small electric current up my arm, but I focused on the warmth of the ceramic instead. "How did you know?" I asked, wrapping both hands around the mug.

"You mentioned it the other day. When you were delirious with fever." He moved to the window, pulling the curtains back just enough to reveal the storm raging outside. "May I?" he gestured to the edge of the bed.

I nodded, shifting to make room. Joaquin sat beside me, his weight creating a gentle dip in the mattress. He didn't crowd me, didn't touch me, but his presence alone seemed to create a buffer between me and the storm.

"The tea has a touch of valerian," he said, nodding to the mug in my hands. "Not enough to knock you out, just enough to take the edge off." His eyes met mine, amber even in the dim light. "You don't have to be afraid of storms, Jolie. Not here."

Another crash of thunder shook the house, but this time, I didn't flinch. Joaquin reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and placed his hand over mine on the mug. "I'll stay until it passes," he promised, his voice steady as the eye of the storm outside. "We can watch it together."

So we did. Hour after hour, Joaquin remained beside me, brewing fresh tea when the first mug went cold, speaking in low, calming tones when the lightning flashed too close. He never pushed, never demanded, just offered his presence as an anchor in the chaos.

As dawn broke, painting the sky in watercolor hues of pink and gold, the storm finally quieted. I realized I'd fallen asleep sometime in those final hours, my head resting against Joaquin's shoulder, his steady breathing a counterpoint to the fading rain.

I woke to find him watching me, something unreadable in his amber eyes. "You stayed," I whispered, my voice rough with sleep.

"I said I would." He smiled, the expression transforming his serious face. "Some promises are easy to keep."

The next morning, I made a decision. The comfort of the night before, the way Joaquin had cared for me without expectation—it terrified me more than any storm. I couldn't do this again. Couldn't let myself depend on someone who might eventually look at me the way Hunter had, like I was an obligation rather than a choice.

I packed quickly, my hands shaking as I stuffed clothes into my duffel bag. Muffin watched from the doorway, his tail twitching with concern. "It's better this way," I told him, though he obviously disagreed.

The front door was my goal, escape just on the other side. But as I reached for the handle, it swung open, revealing Joaquin. He took in my packed bags, my determined expression, and something flickered across his face—hurt, perhaps, or disappointment. But instead of using his Lycan aura to command me to stay, he simply stepped aside.

"Going somewhere?" he asked quietly.

"I can't do this," I whispered, clutching my bag tighter. "I can't—I can't get used to this and then lose it."

Joaquin set my bags down gently and stepped closer, not touching me, just close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. "Jolie," he said, his voice soft and vulnerable in a way I'd never heard from a Lycan Prince before. "I'm not asking you to stay forever. Just... stay long enough to heal. No expectations. No demands. Just rest."

He reached out slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, and took my hand in his. "You don't have to be afraid of me," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."

Something in his words, in the careful way he held my hand without squeezing, broke through the panic. I looked down at our intertwined fingers, then back at his face. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable.

Slowly, reluctantly, I let go of my bag. It hit the floor with a soft thud, and I heard Muffin's satisfied purr from somewhere behind me.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll stay. For now."

Joaquin's smile was like sunrise breaking through clouds.