Alpha Tristan

Tristan was even fiercer in warrior mode.

His shoulders were squared and he stood still in front of me. Steely blue eyes focused on mine and his expression seemed stony until I stared back at him with all emotions on my face. His eyes softened and cracked a small smile. "Kara, you'll be fine, okay?"

I took a moment to nod then rolled my shoulders back in an attempt to relax myself. "What about if I hurt you?"

The grin fought to the surface and Tristan chuckled lowly. I was so mesmerised by the expression on his face that I almost forgot what we were meant to be doing. "You won't hurt me. I just want to see how much power you can put behind a throw."

I frowned and slowly closed my hand into a fist when he nodded in encouragement. The thought of actually hitting him wouldn't have made me feel so bad three weeks ago, or even before meeting him, but I knew that my feelings towards him weren't the same anymore and I had been one of the only people to perhaps see a small part of the real Tristan.

We still had a long way to go, but I could see that he wasn't prepared to let me go. And I was sure that the thought of never seeing Tristan again elicited feelings of discomfort within me.

Reeling my arm back, I took in where he was standing and closed my eyes before allowing my fist to connect with his cheek. A low thud marked the connection and I quickly opened my eyes to see his hand enclosed around my fist.

"You need to open your eyes if you want a precise hit." His other hand came up to grip my wrist and turn mine over. "The basic technique is there—you know how to make a proper fist, but you're not hitting with the correct part of your hand." He straightened out my wrist and tapped my knuckles to correct me.

I tried to listen closely to his advice but when his thumb started to gentle c.a.r.e.s.s my knuckles, which I was sure he didn't notice, I found it hard to concentrate. Twisting my hand, I brushed my fingers over his pulse as I became mesmerised by the feel of his skin.

"Kara..." he warned with a small smile on his face. "Concentrate."

Glancing up at him, my face heated and I dropped his wrist before stepping back. "Sorry." I closed my hand into a fist once more and shook the nerves away. "Why do I need to actually hit you anyway?"

Tristan straightened out and shook his head. "No questions." He seriously said, levelling his gaze with mine. "Come on."

Winding my arm back, I focused on his face and sent as much power as I could into the punch. But, he caught my fist in his hand again before it reached his cheek. From the look on his face, I could tell that the punch wasn't up to standard.

"A punch isn't just throwing a fist." He began, dropping my hand and stepping closer to me. "Use your body to your advantage. Push off your back foot in time with your fist and twist from here." His hands tapped my h.i.p.s and his lips rose into a barely noticeable smile when I shivered. "That's so you can transfer the power from your legs into your throw."

I weakly nodded, too enraptured by the feel of his hands on me. I was still getting used to just how strong the mate pull really was. I expected some sort of attraction to my mate, but my attraction to him was much fiercer. Stepping closer to him, we were face to c.h.e.s.t when I looked up to see him watching me curiously.

The sky was dark, but his eyes were darker. Like coals that held the oceans in them, dark blue spilling out as the emotion swam in his eyes. "Do I affect you as much as you affect me?"

Tristan was silent for a moment before he huffed out a light breath. "You do. I can't control myself when you look at me like that."

I peered up at him curiously. "Like what?"

The corner of his perfect lips lifted and he exuded a sense of vulnerability that I wasn't expecting. "Like you actually want me as much as I want you."

My stomach twisted in anxiousness and I felt my heart drop. It was then I realised that Tristan had never once made me feel unwanted, even when he was hurt. The guilt came back tenfold and I lifted my arms to hold his face in my hands. "I'm sorry, Tristan. I really am." I blew out a breath and willed myself to not close my eyes so I could look at him. "This mate thing is harder than I thought it would be, but I'm trying, aren't I?"

He nodded slowly, tightening his hold on my h.i.p.s. Closing the distance between our bodies, he leaned his face into my right hand and a sense of tenderness overcame us as we stood in the snow. As I stared at him, I realised that I was the problem. I had to be a better mate to him and had to stop fighting him at every corner.

He had shown me kindness I was sure he'd shown no one by letting me take the training at my own pace, and also by giving me the option of choosing whether or not to go through with the fight. Despite what my mother had said, he was accepting me regardless and making sure I was comfortable with everything.

Overcome with emotion, I brought his face down closer to me before kissing him softly. He drew in a breath through his nose and moved his lips slowly against mine. This kiss had been different to any of the ones we had shared before. It wasn't founded on sheer l.u.s.t but rather pure affection. It also felt different—more tender.

When we pulled back, he watched me cautiously as if he was scared I'd take back everything and I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull into a warm hug. It was then that all my previous misconceptions of Tristan were shattered. If he were exactly like the stories said, he wouldn't be affected by me so much or even care what I thought about him. But he did, and that meant they had gotten it all wrong.

I had to stop being stupid and give him a fair chance.

He relaxed as he leant his head against my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my waist to hug me tighter. I wanted to tell him everything I was thinking, but the words couldn't seem to come out as he laid a soft kiss on my neck.

"Can we try, Kara?" he spoke quietly but his voice was even and I could feel myself getting dizzy as the power he naturally exuded danced across my skin. This had to be the closest we had ever been for a reason other than kissing.

"I want to, Tristan." I murmured as I pulled back, looking up at him with what was perhaps the most honest expression I could show. "I want to know the real you. I want to enjoy time with you without the fight or training looming over me."

He watched me closely before nodding. "I'm keeping my promise, αγάπη μου. Take all of this at your own pace. If you still feel the same way about the fight then I'll let you do what you want. I don't want to lose you."

If my mother were here, she would tell me to not even bother with taking training at my own pace, but I knew that if Tristan was making the effort then I had to too. It would be easier to tell him that I didn't want to do that at all, but to take you had to give.

Nodding, I gave him an honest smile and he flattened his hand over my curls.

"One more try with the punch and then we can go back inside."

Stepping back, I reminded myself of his pointers and used my body as I sent my fist flying into his open palm. For once, his hand actually moved and the thud that sounded as a result of the connection seemed more because of me rather than him grabbing my fist.

He smiled and an impressed expression covered his face. "That was a good one."

I returned the smile and dropped my gaze to his flushed palm that was slowly going back to normal. Curling my fingers around his wrist, I brought his hand closer to me so I could gently brush my thumb over his skin.

"Did it hurt?"

He slowly smiled. "Let's just say I felt it."

Meeting his gaze, I rolled my eyes at what he really wanted to say. "Yeah okay, I know you could take me in a fight."

His smiled widened and he dropped his hand from mine as he made a move towards the door. The snow crunched under his boots and he glanced at me sideways as I fell into step with him. "Well, I've had years of training and I am an alpha."

"Combat may be your specialty, but there has to be something you're not good at."

He held the door open for me as he chuckled lowly. "Why can't I be perfect?"

I kicked off my shoes as I pulled off the coat of his that I was wearing. "There's always going to someone that can do something better than someone else. Perfection doesn't exist."

"I beg to differ." He countered, pulling off his jacket with a sense of smoothness that gained my attention. Something about Tristan taking off layers was somewhat e.r.o.t.i.c. "Mates are the prime example. No one can be better for someone than their mate."

Warmth flooded my c.h.e.s.t and I felt him watching me as I nodded. He wasn't wrong. If I thought about it, no one could make me feel like Tristan did. "I mean other than that." I clarified. "A person in themselves can't be perfect."

He nodded and then walked to the kitchen to turn the lights off. I presumed that he was getting ready for bed, and I oddly knew his night routine already. He would check that all the lights were off in the house and then he would sit in his office for a half hour before finally going to his room.

The thought of going to bed alone didn't sit well with me for the first time ever. When he stepped onto the stairs, I reached for his hand and pulled him back slightly. But, I couldn't muster up the courage to say anything to him. Watching me for a few moments, he sighed and tugged on my hand.

I was grateful that I didn't have to say anything for him to understand what I wanted in that moment. When we made it to his door, he gently pulled me in front of him and twisted the knob.

"I have to check in with the night patrol, but I won't be long." He let go of my hand and gave me a warm departing smile before he headed down the hall towards his office.

I stood at the threshold of his room for a few long moments, watching after him before I stepped into his bedroom. I was instantly hit with his scent from all directions and something about it was highly comforting. The bed was large enough for the both of us and then some, but I had no idea how Tristan slept. I knew that I didn't tend to take up much space on a bed, but if the mere width of his shoulders told me anything, it was that he took up a lot of space.

Deciding that I should just make myself comfortable, I tentatively made my way over to his walk-in wardrobe and picked out one of his shirts. The material was soft and felt like heaven against my skin. Because I was alone, I could bring it up to my nose to take a deep inhale of the scent that lingered on everything he had.

It was manly and wholly him.

Before he could catch me doing something he wouldn't let me live down, I went back towards the bed and climbed in, feeling my body instantly relax at the feel of his silk sheets. My head rested on a pillow that seemed untouched and I stared at the one on what I presumed to be the side he slept on. It was wrinkled and smelled of the hair product he used.

When I realised that I was taking in too much information about him, I forced myself to close my eyes and gripped at the sheets. It had been a half hour when he came back to the room, fl.i.c.k.i.n.g the light switch off. I could still see him in the dark and watched greedily as he tugged his shirt up off his body.

He then walked to his wardrobe and moments later, emerged in a pair of pyjama trousers. I knew that he could tell I wasn't asleep. I could control my breathing, but whenever he was anywhere near me, my heart was out of the question.

When he climbed into bed, he turned to face me and a soft smile graced his face. His b.a.r.e skin captured my attention and he had to click his fingers to pull me out of my dangerous reverie. "Well done today, Kara. I know it wasn't easy, but I'm glad we came to a compromise."

His large hand covered the entirety of my cheek and the corner of my lips moved against his palm up into a small smile. I sobered up and focused on the feel of his hand against my skin. "I hate arguing with anyone, but when we argue, I feel like absolute shit."

Granted almost all of our arguments started because of me, but it didn't mean I didn't regret everything I said right after saying it. Three weeks ago, I wouldn't have batted an eyelid at seeing Tristan look so upset, but the fact that I was the only person hurting him made me feel like a monster.

What person purposely hurt their mate?

"Can I ask you something?" he quietly asked, making me stop as I saw the serious look in his eye.

I nodded with a gulp, scared of what he would say.

"If you could, would you go back to your own pack?" the question was weighted with a sense of curiosity that could kill a dozen cats, but I dropped my gaze to his b.a.r.e c.h.e.s.t as I pondered over how to answer him.

"The only thing holding me to my old pack is my mother, Tristan. She's the only family I have." I gripped onto his hand when I felt him getting ready to pull away. "If she were here, then no."

When he seemed like he was going to ask more questions, I closed the distance between us and locked our lips, kissing him slowly as my arm came over his h.i.p.s. With the hand on my face, he angled my head in a way that allowed him to deepen the kiss. I knew we were headed into dangerous territory when his tongue delved into my mouth and I slowly raised up onto my knees before straddling him.

The kiss was deep and slow and I could feel the heat of his hands as they settled on my waist over my shirt. He leaned up slightly so he was halfway between lying down and sitting, and took my breath away when his hand pressed against the small of my back.

"Tristan." I panted in warning, reluctantly pulling away when the sign of his arousal became too hard to ignore.

His head dropped back onto the pillow and a sigh passed his flushed lips. Moving his hands to grip my h.i.p.s again, he effortlessly lifted me off his l.a.p and I raised my fingers to touch my own swollen lips. That had to be the hottest kiss of my life.

Sitting back on my heels, I watched him gain his composure and willed my eyes to not drop to the obvious tent in his trousers. It was five minutes later when he cut through the silence and opened his arms towards me.

"Let's go to sleep." He quietly said as I settled against his c.h.e.s.t. On the outside he appeared composed, but his heart was beating a mile a minute against my ear.

I nodded my head and closed my eyes as I tried to do the same and rid myself of the burning d.e.s.i.r.e I felt for him. It was getting harder and harder to resist thinking of him in that way, especially since I had gotten a taste of his passion in his kisses.

But, I forced myself to think clean thoughts as I rested my hand on his c.h.e.s.t and let myself slowly fall asleep.

I was slowly becoming comfortable with him.