Mated to the Alpha Knight novel Chapter 2

"Jackson," I chuckled as his touch went lower, his fingers playing with my jeans waistband. "I think Mr.Tomes will be wondering why I'm not in class yet,"

"I don't care about some teacher right now, Celeste," His breath hot against my ear, goose bumps covering my arms, and the stench of dull, lemon cleaner flooded the janitor closet. Jackson held me close, kissing my neck, and suddenly I felt very uneasy about the predicament I was in; like a red flag flaring in my head.

"Jackson, wait," I spoke softly, my eyes opening. As he kissed my neck, I focused my eyes elsewhere to see stacks of toilet paper and clorox wipes on one shelf, a broom and mop hanging up on the side, and a small yellow bucket that had 'FLOOR WAX' written onto the front with big, bold black letters. "Jackson," My voice turned almost whiney.

"What." Kiss. "Baby." Kiss.

"Can... Can we stop?" His grip on my waist seemed to get tighter.

"Why?" Breathless, he stopped his kissing and stood back to his full height, onyx eyes meeting mine with confusion. Red rose to my cheeks as sweat kissed my palms.

"I don't want to do... This. Not yet," Or not at all as I had a mate somewhere out in the world. Jackson took his hands from my waist and intertwined them with my hands, his cologne smelled cheap and did nothing to calm my headache.

"Baby, trust me, you'll feel good after this. I promise," Jackson licked his lips before attacking my neck, moving his hands to my waist, and with one hand, he started to unbutton my jeans.

"J-Jackson, please," Tears started to pool in my blue eyes as he slid one hand between my jeans and underwear, letting it rest on my hip. Frustrated, Jackson squeezed harshly and let out a huff.

"What the fuck Celeste," He spat. Tremors in my hands could hardly control themselves as I have heard stories about his anger, how he smacked around some girl named Stacy last year so bad she left the pack before anyone knew. "We've been seeing each other for a whole three weeks, what's wrong?"

Those onyx eyes turned harsh as he looked down to me. I said in return, "W-what about your mate? My mate? We are-"

"Fuck you," Jackson spat taking a step back, grabbing his backpack, and walked out of the closet; only me and the dim, buzzing lightbulb were left. Collapsing to the dirty floor, I held my hand over my mouth to shield some of the sobs, tears escaping both eyes as if they were in a race; the cool closet made me wish I had a hoodie.

Not a minute later, my cell phone rang.

Fishing it out of my purple bookbag that sat only three feet away from me, I relaxed as I saw the caller ID; answering it, I didn't even get one word in before he spoke.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" One of the only good things about my brother, he knew when I felt like shit; our emotions always seemed intertwined. I knew when he was sad, mad, happy, lonely, all of it and vice versa; my mother used to tell me it was a sibling bond but no one I knew had this except us.

A hiccup escaped my lips as I tried to answer. "I- um,"

"Why? So you could make fun of me?" Stepping out of the car, slamming the door shut, and hurrying inside, I could hear my brother right behind me. As my foot touched the first step Emrys pulled me back. Falling into his chest I groaned and pushed him away from me.

Tears made their appearance as my mind kept thinking back to Jackson, how close I was to either losing my virginity or getting slapped, his harsh onyx eyes... Emrys pulled me into a hug, his arms and scent of rain wrapping themselves around me as we sat upon the steps; he shushed me silently.

"Celeste," He whispered after a few moments of my silent crying, my tears staining his grey pullover, and he wiped a few with his thumb; warmth covered my body as I sniffled and looked up. Meeting his dark grey eyes, they flashed with some unknown emotion. "Please, tell me what happened?"

Clutching his sweatshirt in my hands, seeking comfort in his warmth, I took a deep breath. "N-nothing... Nothing is wrong,"

"Lessie," He whispered, calling me by my childhood nickname. "You were crying the whole way home, your braid is disheveled, and a bruise- Is that a hickey?" His voice grew louder at the accusation. Why was I more upset at his anger than I was at Jackson?

Silence passed between us as he held me, my hands still balling his sweatshirt, and our breathing only passed the time.

"I'm going to kill Jackson," A deep growl vibrated from his chest and echoed into my hands.

"Please, Rhys. Please don't," I begged, using his nickname that only I could call him and looked up. Emrys bit his lip in thought.