Phoenix Reborn (Alpha Pack, #7.5)(28)

Nix propped himself on his elbows and gazed down at Noah through a fall of silky hair. “Yes. We were meant to be.”

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you, baby.”

His Phoenix, reborn.

*

Nix cupped his mate’s sweet face. “You’re the reason I survived. Everything I am is because of you. You’re the light of my life, and I’ll never deny you again.”

Tears slipped down Noah’s cheeks. “You mean that?”

“I promise. When we get to the compound I’m going to make a scene when I let everyone know I’m back. Then I’m going to make another one when I kiss the hell out of you in front of everybody.”

That earned him a big smile. “I like the sound of that.”

“You’d better. Because I plan on doing it every day for the rest of our lives. Everyone’s going to get sick of us sucking face and being lovebirds all over the place.”

“Nah, they’ll be doing the same thing with their mates.”

“Then we’ll fit right in.”

“That sounds wonderful, too.”

“Noah? Thank you for being patient with me, and for loving me even when I was acting like an idiot.”

His mate gave him a soft smile. “I always will.”

Noah pulled him down for a scorching kiss, and Nix threw himself into making sure his mate knew just how much he was loved and wanted.

And he planned to spend the rest of his life proving it.





Keep reading for an excerpt from CHASE THE DARKNESS, the latest book in the Alpha Pack series from J. D. Tyler. Available now.





Every night, Micah Chase battled the monsters in his dreams.

The ones responsible for his captivity and torture. The ones who did terrible things to him—made

him do things—that made him wish he was dead. And each day, he awoke to the increasing reality that the nightmares about his hellish time in captivity weren’t simply products of a tormented and cracked mind.

They were memories.

Worms, churning up the rot in his soul, filling him with self-loathing. Hatred. Yeah, he’d liked it much better back when he couldn’t remember a f*cking thing.

Pushing himself out of bed, he walked into the bathroom, feeling far older than his twenty-nine years. The Alpha Pack had been called out yesterday to eliminate a nest of goblins—how the holy f*cking hell had those little bastards gotten through the portal from the Unseelie realm, anyways?—and his body was covered in scratches and bruises from their nasty little claws and teeth. He should’ve healed by now.

That he hadn’t was cause for yet another worry in a very long list of them. In the bathroom, he studied his ruined face in the mirror. He’d taken his good looks for granted once. Before he had been tortured like a lab rat, made to scream in agony and beg for death. The dark eyes that stared back were dull, hollow with pain and mental exhaustion. Dark brown hair, once shiny and full, hung to his shoulders, limp and lifeless as his gaze. But it was the sight of his face that hurt most of all.

The left side was perfect. A reminder of how truly na?ve he’d once been to the evil in the world, to what one being was capable of doing to another. The right side, however, was a mess of scars, like melted candle wax had been poured from his forehead to run down over his brow, then down his cheek and neck. In reality it had been molten silver, splashed onto his face as he’d been held down, screaming.

“You’ll do what you’re told next time, dirty wolf! Isn’t that right?”

“No! Stop, please!”

“He still hasn’t learned.” Eyes burning with manic light, Dr. Bowman flicked a hand at an assistant. “Again.”

Shaking his head to clear the horrid scene from his brain, Micah gripped the sink and thought bitterly how books and movies didn’t always get it right. While he’d healed, his wolf shifter’s DNA hadn’t been able to rid him of the terrible scars.

But maybe it was fitting that the outside matched the inside.

Ignoring the throbbing in his head, he turned on the water in the shower and let it get hot before stepping into the stall. For a few minutes he stood and enjoyed the spray beating down, soothing his tired, abused muscles. It did little to ease the pain in his head, however. In fact, the throb ramped up to a sharp stab behind his left eye that left him breathless, and warmth gushed from his nose.

“Shit.”

He swiped his hand underneath his nose, then stared at the blood. There was more this time, the bleeding heavier. It would stop, though. Always did.

Tilting his head back, he let the spray wash the blood away until the flow ceased. Then he finished his shower and stepped out, toweling off. In the bedroom, he dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt,

then pulled on his black boots, sliding his big knife into the right one. Typically he went light on weapons when he and the guys weren’t out on a call. But he couldn’t always shift into his wolf, especially in public, and it never hurt to be prepared.

As he straightened, his gaze found the small pill bottle resting on the dresser. He hated being dependent on that shit, so leaving it behind should be easy. Right? Yet the very thought of being in town, out in the field, or even across the compound, and not having it when the demons closed in? God, the idea made his hands shake and his heart race. Made him sweat.