Alpha alec's redemption (Sadie) novel Chapter 345

I wake up warm. That’s the first thing I register. The heat at my back, a solid chest pressed against me, an arm draped possessively around my waist. Alec’s scent surrounds me, grounding me, and for a brief moment I forget everything else.

I forget the attack. I forget those we lost. I forget the council. I forget the innocent blood that was shed.

I shift slightly, and his hold tightens instinctively, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

I nod, even though he can’t see it. “Yeah… I think this is the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“Me too,” he replies. “I haven’t felt this peaceful in a long time. Even with everything that has happened.”

There’s something different now. I can feel him in a way I couldn’t before. The bond hums softly between us. It’s stronger and deeper. The mark at my neck is warm, almost comforting, like a quiet promise wrapped around my pulse.

Last night, he didn’t let me sleep in my bedroom. When we left the meeting with the council, he led me straight to his bedroom and prepared for sleep like it was normal between us.

He didn’t ask if it’s what I wanted, and for once, I didn’t need him to.

I turn in his arms to face him. His eyes are already on me, green and intense, scanning my face like he’s making sure I’m still here, still real.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

I give him a small peck on the lips and answer. “Yeah. I’m sad that we lost so many people, but as long as you’re with me, I’ll be okay.”

He leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “We’ll get through today.”

My breath catches as the weight of what we have to do settles back onto my chest.

I know that most would think that this is the worst time to think or even have sex, but it’s exactly what I need. What we both need.

By the time we’re done and dressed, the sun is already high. We leave the bedroom and go downstairs for breakfast.

The pack is too quiet. Everywhere we step is filled with silence. Even the birds aren’t chirping as if sensing what happened yesterday and what’s about to happen today.

Breakfast is subdued. People eat because they have to, not because they want to. Whispers ripple through the room, grief heavy in every glance. I sit beside Alec, Aspen between us, her small hand curled around my finger like she senses something is wrong even if she doesn’t understand it.

“Mommy,” she whispers, leaning closer. “Why is everyone sad?”

I swallow and kiss the top of her head. “Because some people got hurt.”

She doesn’t know what death is, and I’m not ready to explain to her the concept. She’s too young to understand it, anyway.