Alphas' Proud Mate novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81 The Bite That Woke Me
It’s dark.

Not the kind of darkness that frightens—it’s more like a heavy, endless fog. I float in it, weightless, numb. Somewhere deep in my chest, there’s a dull ache—a reminder of the blade that tore through my heart. I should be dead. I felt myself slipping away.

But… I’m still here.

And I don’t understand why.

My body won’t move. My lips won’t part. Every time I try to scream, to beg, to speak—nothing comes out. It’s as if something invisible is wrapped around my throat, holding me in place. I’m a prisoner inside my own body.

But I can hear.

That’s how I know I’m not dead.

Voices—soft at first, then growing louder. Familiar.

Jack.

He’s been here the whole time. I’d know his voice anywhere, even when it cracks with exhaustion or shakes with rage. His warmth lingers near me like a second skin—wrapping me in something stronger than any pain. Keeping me tethered.

He’s protecting me. Still.

Then… there’s another presence. One that stirs something ancient in my blood. It’s calmer, heavier—familiar in a way I can’t quite explain. Like spring rain falling on pine trees. Like a forgotten lullaby. He doesn’t speak often, but when he does, my soul listens.

Then Jack’s voice cuts through everything—angry, raw, frantic.

“Why isn’t she waking up yet?!”

I want to reach out, tell him I’m trying. That I want to open my eyes. That I’m fighting.

“She should’ve woken up already,” the other man says—probably the doctor. “Even the King gave her his blood. I—I don’t understand—”

Jack growls, and I can feel the frustration pouring off him in waves.

“There is one thing, Alpha…”

A pause.

“Maybe you should mark her.”

My body tenses—or maybe I imagine it tensing. Rage flares through Jack’s voice.

“How dare you tell me to mark her against her will?”

Gods. My heart clenches. Even when I’m half-dead, he’s still defending me.

“I’m only saying it because the mate bond might help—if she accepts it—”

“You think I’d ever do to her what he did to my sister?!”

No. He wouldn’t. I know that. Jack would never hurt me like that.

And now I know what I have to do.

I force the air into my lungs, feeling my throat strain—raw, broken.

“Mark me…” I whisper. It’s a rasp, barely a sound, like wind through leaves.

The silence afterwards makes me fear he didn’t hear me.

But then I hear him move.

He turns.

“…Please, Jack…” I whisper again, begging. “I want to… bear your mark…”

Seconds pass.

Then his voice comes low, trembling and full of emotion. “Your wish is my command.”

A second later, something sharp—hot—sinks into the side of my neck.

I hiss, pain exploding through every nerve like fire. For one wild heartbeat, it feels as though I’m being stabbed all over again—but then—

Then the pain melts and becomes something else entirely.

Pleasure.

A fierce warmth erupts within me, radiating from the bite mark across my chest, down my spine, and lower—between my legs. Liquid fire courses through my veins, igniting every inch of me. My skin tingles, each nerve alive and pulsing, like I’m glowing from the inside out. My legs twitch. My lips part. My chest rises sharply, as if I’ve just resurfaced after drowning and taken my first true breath.

I feel everything.

I feel Jack—his presence pressing against me, curling over my skin and sinking deeper, like a thread sewn straight into my bones. His scent surrounds me—dark, smoky, maddeningly addictive.

“Well…” I rasp, my cheeks still burning, “I’m awake now.”

His eyes brighten, and a soft chuckle escapes him—like a break in the storm he’s been weathering alone.

I gently brush my fingers over the mark again, whispering, “Your mark… it brought me back. Thank you.”

“No,” Jack murmurs, eyes burning into mine. “You’re the one who kept fighting, Kali. My mark just reminded you who you belong to.”

And I do.

With every breath I take, I belong to him.

“How do you feel?” Jack asks gently, though I hear the tension under his words. “No pain anywhere?”

I blink slowly, taking in the room, the golden sunlight slanting through the curtains… and him. His brow furrows with concern, exhaustion etched deep into his features. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. His beard is fuller, his eyes rimmed with red. There’s a raw desperation in the way he stares at me—like if he blinks, I might disappear.

His thumb brushes gently across my cheek, as though he’s trying to convince himself I’m truly here.

My chest tightens.

How long has he been holding this fear alone?

“I feel… strong,” I say softly. “Stronger than ever.”

And I mean it. My body feels different now—like every part of me has been reforged in fire and cooled in the arms of someone who refused to let me go. I feel… whole.

He exhales like he’s been holding that breath for years.

“How long was I out?” I wonder silently.

“Six days,” he answers without hesitation, like he’s been counting every single second—beating me to the question, as if he plucked it straight from my thoughts.

My eyes widen. “You can read my thoughts now?”

His smirk is immediate—cocky and amused. “You’re mine now, fully marked, sweetheart. You really need to work on those mental walls.” His voice dips to a teasing whisper as he leans in. “No more secret fantasies about me.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m blushing so hard I feel like I’ve caught fire. “Jack!”

He chuckles softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “God, I’ve missed that look on your face,” he murmurs, but his gaze turns serious, voice low. “Do you remember anything? Everything?”