My Female Alpha

FORTY SEVEN

emery

As I pour the boiling chicken soup into a mug, my hands tremble. Even though we've been at the packhouse for nearly two full days now, I can't stop the random quivering or paranoia that slips over me. If I'm not curled up beside Lenora in bed, I am constantly checking on her.

We are theoretically safe now. We're back on her pack grounds, surrounded by our small legion of loyal wolves and thousands of acres of land to cushion us from rogues. I'm not all that assured, though. Denver has been working relentlessly to rally northern packs so that we can put an end to this rogue tirade once and for all. Since Ara's groupies have been separated and weakened, there's hope that it won't take much to stop them.

The kitchen and most of the packhouse is quiet as I carry the mug of soup up the stairs. At this time of night, a handful of wolves are out on patrol and the others are sleeping, resting, or hanging out with each other. Since the first lockdown when I was brought here, an eerie stillness has accompanied the house. I know it hasn't always been like this—I remember Denver and his weird yoga group. These wolves used to live freely, without fear of rogues stalking in the shadows. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen again.

I stop at a bedroom on the second floor and nudge the door open with my toe. Michael is awake and sitting up against the headboard. He eyes me warily, though I can say he looks a little less furious than usual.

"Good evening, Michael. I've got chicken soup for you."

He says nothing as I approach his bedside.

Offering out the mug to him, I say, "Rate your pain level for me."

After eyeing the mug for an unnecessary amount of time, he finally takes it from me and mumbles something under his breath. I sigh.

"You know I have human ears," I remind him. "Give me your number, one to ten."

He casually takes a sip from the soup. "Two."

"Do you mind if I take a look?"

Without looking at me, he shakes his head and guzzles the soup down. I peel the sheets back from his lap down to his feet. One of the other wolves who had some medical experience had set the bones back and predicted that, with his supernatural healing, he would be able to walk within a few days. I studied the dark bruising around his ankles and tried to decide if it looked any better than it had this morning.

"When can I leave?" he asks.

I pull the sheets back up to his lap and take the empty mug from him. He skittishly meets my eyes. Pursing my lips, I touch the side of his bed. "Mind if I sit?"

"I'd rather you not."

"Okay," I say with a nod. "You're free to leave as soon as you can walk. You know this."

"I can't be here another day. I'll fucking kill someone."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Yeah? Who the fuck are you going to kill?" I demand. "I have been nursing your ass back to health. If you kill me, you're not going to make it two steps down the hall before one of my wolves kills you."

He growls under his breath and looks away.

"I know you think you're a badass rogue, but please indulge me for just a second," I say. "If you broke your feet—even just twisted your fucking ankle—Ara and everyone else would have left you out there to die. She didn't give a shit about you. Here, I am looking after you. Other wolves are checking on you. Nobody here is going to let you suffer if we can help it. Now, I know your time in the basement was unfair. Honestly, it was cruel. I would've never let that happen to you if I'd known Lenora was doing that to you. But I didn't know and this has all been a disaster." I let out a frustrated breath.

Michael shifts uncomfortably. "Have you heard from the others?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Damn it," he swears quietly. "I thought at least Daniel would come back."

"I did, too." I nod solemnly. "They helped us fight the other rogues, so I can't imagine Ara took them back."

He shakes his head, saying, "No, they wouldn't go back to her. She's a cunt."

For some reason, his insult makes me laugh. His head snaps towards me in surprise. I grip my chest and laugh harder. God, it feels so good to do something other than cry and be angry.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah." I wave away his question. "It's just—yeah. Ara is a cunt. Anyway, where do you think they went if they didn't stay with her?"

Michael relaxed a bit and blew out a breath. "God knows. I know the second I'm able to get out of here, I'm heading west. If I hear the name Arabella or Jacob one more time, I'm going to Mexico."

"I don't blame you. I'd get the hell out of dodge, too. Who's Jacob?"

Any morsel of ease I'd gotten from him suddenly vanished. His shoulders tensed and he looked away again. "Ah, he's nobody. Just another asshole."

"You can't expect me to believe that," I say. "Come on, who cares if you tell me? You're getting out of this mess anyway."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. I'm not supposed to know as much about him as I do . . . and Ara always threatened to get rid of me if I mentioned anything."

I grind my teeth. "If I had a dollar for every time Ara threatened someone . . ."

He shares a tiny little smile with me. "Fuck her. So, Jacob is her boss. He has been giving Ara the money to keep us alive so we can rampage packs. For each Alpha we killed, she got a bonus."

"Who'd have known Ara was just another guy's bitch?" I ask, making him chuckle.

"I don't know where this Jacob lives or what, but we'd do supply runs and see him every now and then. I don't know where I stand with him since I've betrayed him . . . and everyone. So don't tell anyone I told you. I want to be out of this."

"Of course. I want you to be free too, Michael. I don't want you running around killing Alphas or innocent pack wolves anymore either."

He scratches his neck and clears his throat. "I think those days are over."

I arch a brow. "For all this, you better promise me that those days are over. If I hear that Michael the Rogue is out harassing packs in Mexico, I'm going to have to come beat some ass."

At last, he meets my gaze with a soft laugh. He rubs his palms across the sheets and says, "Okay, okay. A rogue's word means nothing though, you know."

"I'd like to believe otherwise," I tell him. "I think you can determine how much your word means, starting now." Reaching over, I placed my hand on his arm. My fingers, for once, stopped trembling. "I think we all want the same things deep down. You can be free and still care about other people."

He remains quiet and I know I've made him uncomfortable again. I squeeze his arm one more time before taking the mug and heading for the door.

"Hey, uh, Luna?"

I pause and glance back, surprised.

"Thank you," he says, glaring down at his lap. "For, you know, not letting me die down there."

"You're welcome, Michael. You're always welcome to stay with us if you decide you want to."

He nods and I slip out of the room. Denver is leaning against the wall as I emerge. The moment I see his tall shadow, I stumble back and slap a hand to my chest.

"Jesus, Denver!" I breathe indignantly. "You gave me a heart attack!"

He smiles briefly before his face falls back into its blank expression. "Apologies, Luna. I've been looking for you, but I didn't want to interrupt your moment in there."

"Sorry. I was evangelizing to our resident rogue."

"You owe me no apology," he says. "Now, Lenora on the other hand . . ."

"Is she up?" I ask, hearing my voice leap up a few notches.

"Oh, yes." He chuckles. "She's awake and quite irritated that you weren't there to coddle her."

Thrusting the empty mug into his chest, I pat Denver on the arm. "Say no more, Denver. Let me go coddle our moody Alpha."