Her Savior Alpha
Chapter 43

I walked into the small living space from the bathroom, I saw Archer on the phone. He sat at the rickety table, a cup of coffee in his hand, half-drunk and black. Drying my hair as I stood next to him, I tried to listen to the conversation unabashedly.

“That’s….good, I guess,” Archer said dryly into the receiver. It was hard to tell f the news actually was good or bad. “I’m glad. At least you get to be out of that horrible medical hall.” He crinkled his nose, making me smile a little. He was kind of adorable, even though he didn’t try to be…and I’d never tell him to his face. He’d hate it for sure.

I was positive Archer was on a call with Clive since he a) spoke to nearly no one else but our little group in the pack (other than Grant, but that was out of necessity), and b) only with Clive would be have such a sarcastic, deadpan attitude. They had gotten much closer since their initial rivalry, I could tell, but t looked like the annoyed looks and sardonic teasing would never go away.

“Got t, got it,” Archer said rolling his eyes. Noticing me beside him, he kept his gaze plain on my face as he continued focusing on the conversation. I had just gotten out in a towel wrapped around me, stopping barely mid-thigh, and water droplets slid down my bare skin. Call me shameless. I knew exactly what I was doing.

“Hope he’s stuck there for a good while, the little -” Archer grumbled, picking up his coffee mug. His gray eyes gleamed like metal as they roved down my body. I leaned against the table, hanging my towel behind my neck and letting my long wet hair surround me.

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t give a shit,” Archer took a sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Mmhmm. You’re too nice for you’re own good. Whatever. As long as you’re…alright, I guess. Or you know.”

I giggled a little at how uncaring Archer was trying to seem. His facade was not working and his eyes snapped to me immediately, a look that said, “We’ll talk about this later.”

I mouthed to him, only slightly audible. “Tell him I said hi.”

Archer nodded. “Vera says hi.” A pause. “He says hi back.” Another pause. “And hope you’re okay.” Pause. “And - ugh, that’s enough, you can have a whole-ass conversation when you guys see each other if ever.”

I stifled another chuckle, stealing Archer’s mug to drink. The coffee was lukewarm, making me grimace. Archer’s brows rose in humor at my discomfort.

“Okay, you too. Bye,” Archer finally pressed end on the call, shoving his cell into his black cargo pants. I sat across from him on the mismatched chair, folding my arms over the scratched wood of the table. Fully facing me now, he sighed. “So, Reilly’s out of the ICU.”

Arching my brows in surprise, I asked, “He’s already recovered?”

“Well, recovered enough to leave, but not enough to walk around on his own yet. He’s on bedrest at home. Clive’s still with him.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s good, I guess…”

Archer let out a brief breath of laughter. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“Well, I suppose I’m grateful I didn’t kill him,” I mumbled, swishing the coffee around in the mug. Archer noticed and snatched it away.

“Get your own,” he said, downing the rest of it. “And honestly, I couldn’t say he wouldn’t deserve it if you did.”

“Archer,” I said disapprovingly. “I nearly did if it weren’t for Clive. As much as I hate him for what he did….”

Staring at me intensely, Archer gave a short nod. “I know, Vera.”

I sighed. “It is good to hear that Clive is okay. And doesn’t detest me.”

Archer rolled his eyes, placing his palms flat on the table to get up.. “Why the hell would that loser think any less of you? It was your right.”

He came the short distance from the opposite of the table to my side, suddenly looming over me like a large, warm shadow. “Speaking of, what was so funny while I was busy on the phone, hmm?”

Looking to my left to avoid his searing hot gaze, I stuttered. “Uh, when?”

“Don’t tell me you already forgot?” Archer leaned over, supporting himself with a hand on the table and a hand behind my shoulder on the back of the chair I occupied. His dark hair swished across his brow, as I became swept up by his beautiful gray eyes. “Is there something humorous about me talking to Clive?”

“Oh that,” I laughed nervously. “I just thought it was kinda…cute that you guys were so gruff about your friendship.”

Surprise lit up his expression, softening up his sharp, predator-like features. “Cute? You did not just say that.” He tugged on a strand of my hair.

“We can pretend I didn’t. Anyways, I’m glad you guys are on good terms.”

He sighed, his breath fanning over my face. “You’re so weird, Vera.”

“That’s why you followed me here, right?” I raised an eyebrow.

He got somehow closer, his nose inches from mine, and I felt his hand behind me rest on a bare, just drying shoulder. His thumb stroked my skin, sending stars dancing across my skin.

“No, I followed you because you are…mesmerizing,” he breathed the last word out like a prayer, his hand sparking fiery tingles as he trailed fingertips up my neck to my jaw. Finding the soft part under my chin, he slowly, lightly tipped my head up. I felt like my ears were submerged underwater as I met the fierce passion of his gaze.

Dear Vera, a voice I was now familiar with bouncing within the echo chamber of my skull. Do not allow yourself to engage further with him.

Astounded at the sudden warning, I asked, Why ever not?

He may not be who you expect.

What the hell did that mean? I wasn’t convinced, but I had to admit, stopping before anything happened was the rational choice for a different reason altogether. Personally, after the whole Reily being my mate fiasco, I wasn’t yet ready to trust another, especially not with intimacy. Although I didn’t have many doubts about Archer up to this point, I had to admit, there was very little I knew about him.

Don’t worry, I still reassured my wolf. I trust Archer. He’s the only one taking care of me right now; who else would be here? I knew Clive and Thelma would in a heartbeat - but I also knew they had other priorities that prevented them from being here. Only Archer seemed to put me first, which might have been good or bad, depending on his true intentions.

I supposed I could only be vigilant, and there was no reason to jump into anything too quickly anyway.

Before Archer could make any other move - which by his actions, there was only one possible route he could take - I jumped up from my seat. Archer moved back smoothly, like the tall-dark-and-handsome devil he was, arms spread out cautiously. Sadly, my towel slipped a few inches, revealing a generous amount of my cleavage, but I pulled it up, cheeks burning. “Sorry, gotta go…uh…change and…need coffee….” I scampered away like a ridiculous little child, knowing I could have handled that a lot better.

As I changed, I cursed my actions. I honestly would not have minded kissing Archer again. But just like my wolf mentioned, I did see the wisdom in holding off - if I could get fooled by someone I thought I knew well, I didn’t want to think about that happening with someone relatively new in my life.

I threw on a wool sweater and some comfortable jeans, thinking about Archer’s smoldering eyes.

After a small dinner of pasta that I managed to make with as few ingredients as possible, we rested on the couch, unsure of what to do with ourselves. Our usual routine form back home was all out of sorts, but I began to realize that most of my routine had to with avoiding bullying, getting beat up, recovering from beatings, getting locked up, doing chores to avoid getting punished, avoiding Dane’s wrath - what would I have done if I had the time to myself?

I sat with a book I found in the bookstore I saw upon entering the own; one about fairytales that reminded me of the ones my mother used to recount to me as a child. Archer sat next to me on the couch, and my insides ignited. The feelings from earlier returned and this time, I was tempted to start something. But I held myself back. No Vera, you just ended a mate ship that barely even started, with your bully of five years who tried to murder you during the mating ceremony.

The only thing that would be worse than that is dating a spy from an enemy pack or something, bonus points if they had something to do with the death of my family. At this point, I was not ready for any romantic relationship whatsoever.

“You should really go for a run with me tomorrow,” Archer said suddenly, snapping me out of my embarrassing thoughts.

I sent him a playful glare. “Are you trying to say something?”

He nudged me. “Well, you did easily get out of breath when taking the stairs earlier.”

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled, returning my attention to the book in my hands. I flipped a page. The couch dipped on Archer’s end with movement. A hand shoved itself before me, between my eyes and my book pages, a delicately wrapped chocolate in the palm. Raising my eyes, I met Archer’s heated, sauve gaze, lips tipping to the right into a smirk.

“Chocolate?” I said, utterly surprised and kind of in love. “First you make fun of my athletic performance and now you give me junk food.”

“I saw you looking at the candy shop display window,” he motioned for me to pick it up. “So I snuck in quickly to grab some. I hope you don’t mind chocolate.”

“Don’t mind?” I plucked the treat eagerly. I unwrapped it, taking a small bite to feel the richness of the flavoring. “Mmm,” I moaned at its sweetness, closing my eyes.

When I opened them again, I found Archer looking at me with the most blazing expression, unreadable but full of desire and headiness; the heaviness of his gaze me my heart beat harder and a group of butterflies fluttered into my stomach. I plopped the rest of the small chocolate into my mouth, trying to ignore the overwhelming attraction.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Archer?” I said softly, practically in a sultry voice.

“You like eating sweet things,” he replied, “And I like staring at pretty things.”

Face warming, I laughed a little. “You don’t like looking at sweet things and eating pretty things, then?”

“Well, I don’t know about the first one... but I’d definitely love to taste you,” his voice had dropped down to low thrum, deep and throaty.

I leaned closer, unable to help myself this time, until the tip of my nose touched his. His thigh pressed against mine, the warmth of his arm behind my back.

“You’ve already tasted me,” I whispered, my lips centimeters from his, my eyes hooded and heavy as I looked between his two silver eyes.

“You’re irresistible. I had to come back for more.”

At his final word, I pressed forward, unable to keep waiting. The gentlemen he was, he wouldn’t have made a move until I made it clear I wanted to go through with it. Our lips finally met, and with such a sensual sweetness, they moved against each other. My lips fit perfectly against his, familiar to that first kiss shared, but foreign in a beautiful way. The softness of his lips contrasted with the achingly slow firmness with which he dragged them against mine. Wanting more, I leaned even closer, and his arm on the back of the couch slid around me. I braced myself with a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thud quickly beneath the skin. A rush of satisfaction and desire ran through me as I realized the effect I had on him.

Parting my lips with his, Archer deepened the kiss, slipping his hot tongue in, grazing my teeth. I could only hear my blood thumping in my head, only smell his undeniably attractive masculine scent surrounding me like a warm embrace. I felt Archer’s other hand slide up my arm, sending scorching heat trailing in its wake.

I folded into him completely, taking a hold of his strong jaw, tracing the outlines of his sculpted-from-marble cheekbones. My front was flush against his, but I still didn’t feel close enough. Winding an arm around his neck, I dug my fingertips into his thick, luscious dark hair, reveling in its softness. He reminded me of an alert, black guard dog, callous to strangers, but who I imagined turning into a fluffy mess of honeyed sweetness and deep loyalty in my presence.

If anything, I was the one who dissolved into a gooey mess with electricity sparking at my nerve-endings like a flickering lightbulb about to explode.

His lips slanted across mine, fitting like a puzzle piece. He tightened his embrace, as if trying to meld me to him. I couldn’t take it anymore; my body was overheating with desire. I picked a leg up and threw it over his lap, bringing myself even closer. Straddling him now, we have full access to each other, and his strong, corded arms circled around my waist

We continued making out for several more minutes, but I wanted to take t further. Dragging my hands down his neck and chest, I reached the hem of his shirt. He seemed to shiver when my fingertips tickled the slice of skin between his waistband and shirt.

Then, warms hands lightly, but solidly wrapped around my wrists, stopping my movement.

I opened my eyes, seeing Archer’s heavy-lidded eyes staring at me, his expression making a fire burn in my core. Gently, he separated his lips from mine, still gazing at me with a dreamy, but slightly melancholy look. We stopped, nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, simply catching our breaths in the still silence. The air escaping his lips intertwined with my own, fusing in a way we never could.

He leaned his forehead against mine and sighed. Closing his eyes made his night-black thick lashes create shadows beneath his eyes.

“Vera,” he whispered my name like it was his salvation. “I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but I understood right away: we couldn’t go further than this.

“Of course,” I murmured against his plump, bruised lips. “Now isn’t the right time.”

His eyes snapped open to look at me with such an aching desire. “No...not now. Let’s go to sleep.”

Letting go of my wrists, Archer curled his around the backs of my upper legs, surprising me when he stood up and hoisted me up with him. I had to balance myself by holding on to his shoulders. He took us to the bed room, where he usually let me sleep while he took the couch. There, on the sole mattress, he carefully placed me down and took his place next to me, about a foot away.

Turning to face him as he fixed up the meager blanket to cover both of us, I asked, “What are we doing?” My voice was still breathless and my heart still going at a the speed of bullet train.

He cocked an eyebrow, a small smile curling up his cheek, but he still seemed subdued. “Sleeping, of course.” He got up to turn of the dangling fluorescent lightbulb, then all I could hear in the darkness was his body getting under the blankets, his presence so close that I could stlll feel waves of heat emanating from him.

I was not sleeping tonight.