Marked by the Alphas Chapter 18

Elara POV

“Did you just say the Great Wars?” I shalessly gape at Braden. My fears and reservations were completely forgotten after he ntioned the war.

“I did,” Braden stares back at , shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I helped fight in them.”

What the hell? The Great Wars were over twenty years ago, before I was even born. There is no way this guy was old enough to have fought in them. He looks thirty, tops. And if he is not a wolf, he does not have the sa extended lifeti we do, living up to a few hundred years.

“I can see the wheels turning,” he laughs lodiously. “You’re wondering how the hell I could have fought in them when I don’t look old enough to be out of diapers when they happened.”

“Sothing along those lines,” I shrug, reluctant to admit he is right.

“I’m sixty-two,” he replies.

“Bu ... but ... how?” I stutter wide-eyed. He is bullshitting ; I am sure of it. There is no way.

He throws his head back and laughs.

“I take it you’ve never heard of the Masas Dima before,” he places his hands on his hips in an almost preening way as he grins at .

“The what?” I frown in confusion.

“Masas Dima,” he repeats patiently. “We prefer the Arabic na we were created instead of the stereotypical, sensationalised ‘vampire’ that pop culture uses.”

“You’re fucking with right now,” I am pretty sure my jaw just hit the ground. There is no such thing as vampires. None. They were a myth, a legend. The only supernatural beings we have proof of are other types of shifters. Everything else did not exist.

“What kind of shifter are you?” I narrow my eyes. “You’re not a wolf, and I don’t recognise your scent.”

Braden’s laugh sends a group of birds into a nearby tree, flying away as fast as their little wings could take them into the sky. After a minute, he composes, shakes his head, and looks at .

“Wait, you’re not joking, are you?” He furrows his brow when he sees my facial expression. “You seriously don’t know about the existence of other paranormal beings other than shifters?”

Sothing in the confused look on his face told that he was telling the truth. Had he been a wolf, I would have been able to sll a lie, but his scent never changed.

Rather than admit to my ignorance, I stayed silent. Which was probably an admission in itself, but whatever.

“I think this is a conversation for when you are wearing more clothes,” he smiles politely. “And when you’re not quite so ... uhm, emotional.”

“Excuse ?” I do not know whether to be angry at him for pulling a typical man move and calling emotional, or curious about how he could tell what my mood is.

“I know, I know,” He holds his hands out, palms up, in a gesture I think was ant to placate . “It’s cliche for to call you emotional. I an no disrespect. I can sense emotions, and when I ca upon you, I could sense extraordinarily strong emotions.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just sensing my anger and irritation at soone sneaking up on while I was relaxing?” I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest, cocking my hip.

The asshole threw his head back and laughs at - again.

Fucking. Laughed.

“Oh, co on,” He plasters a cocky grin on his face. “We both know I didn’t sneak up on you. There’s no way you didn’t sll before you saw , and I was making no attempt to quiet my footsteps on the leaves. It’s okay to admit you’re upset about sothing. Boy trouble?”

I grind my teeth, ball my fists, and look away. I refuse to discuss my problems with him.

Braden POV

The look on her face is priceless, and knowing that I put it there and set her off-kilter was the icing on the proverbial cake.

She is glorious. Full of attitude, defiance, and curiosity. And, damn, she is beautiful.

I have never seen hair like hers. It was the colour of cinnamon. Full, thick, and wild, hanging down to her waist. I have a nagging urge to wrap myself in it and nothing else as I pump in and out of her, nipping at her neck.

Does she taste as good as she slls?

Fuck, I want to sink my fangs into her and get a little taste.

She still has not spoken, and her mouth was slightly agape, as if she wanted to say a million things but could not settle on just one.

“So, boy trouble then,” I smirk, winking at her ... and watch as she is just about to blow a gasket. Dammit, she is fiery, and it is a turn on.

“You don’t know anything about ,” she snarls.

“I know enough,” I smirk.

She opens her mouth to say sothing, then closes it again.

I have tweaked her enough ... for today. I will see her again – I will make sure of it. But I must be careful. If she could sll sothing different about , it ant others would as well.

Apparently, we overestimated how much wolf shifters know about other species. How could they have erased so much information so quickly? It has only been twenty-three years since the Great Wars.

“I’ve given you a lot to digest,” I casually push my hands in my pockets, and pull my shoulders back. “With finding out that my kind exists and all. Why don’t you take so ti to think about all of this and et back here, say, tomorrow morning?”

I do not give her a chance to reply before I turn around and leave. I want to see her again, and do not want to give her an opportunity to make an excuse not to be here tomorrow.