My Female Alpha

FORTY NINE

emery

Solemn days drift by. Things at the pack house are strangely quiet as we all tip-toe around the lack of normalcy we can't seem to end. We seem safe—for now. Ara is on the loose and there is someone higher than her who remains a mystery to us. Everything seems better now but I think we all are waiting for the second shoe to drop.

Lenora moves around like a lost ghost and I know that my distance has made her that way. Half the time, she is staring off or pacing without even knowing. When I touch her, she snaps out of it and relaxes. It makes me nervous when she's spacey. I swear I can feel the animal inside her lurking under the surface like it's caged. She's worried about her pack and what more is to come. I just wish I could take all of this pressure off her shoulders. It's too much for one person to handle alone. I hate that every time she touches me in the slightest sensual way, something clutches at my heart and lungs, squeezing them until I get away from her.

I have a disturbing feeling that it's not going to end until Ara faces some kind of justice.

"Baby girl?"

I look up from where I'm sitting cross-legged on the library floor. Denver has been teaching me more yoga poses and breathing techniques. I used to be a frequent participant in yoga classes but, since I moved here, I haven't found a new studio. It's nice to have a friend who could take me higher in my learning. I have found some peace in practicing them because they demand my physical and mental focus.

Lenora stands in front of me, her long and muscular legs filling my vision. I've never seen a woman with such strong and sexy legs like hers. An unnameable ache fills my bones. I want to bury myself between those tight thighs and lose myself. At the same time, that familiar and haunting suffocation weighs on me.

"Your phone's been ringing," she says. "You okay?"

Nodding, I stand up. "I was meditating. I must have been pretty deep in," I confessed as warmth spread across my cheeks.

Her lips curl in a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Reaching out, she takes a slip of my hair between her fingers.

"I need to get a cut," I blurt. My eyes drop to my feet. Jesus, am I nervous?

Lenora's hand reaches past my hair to trace a finger up my neck. She pokes at the side of my throat, just under my jaw. Her tongue slips out to wet her lips.

"Your pulse is thundering away," she remarks with a low chuckle.

"Really?" I squeak.

Her smile is more genuine now and I see a familiar spark behind her eyes. We stand there, just inches apart, and stare at one another. My body is on high alert and yet I feel like one dark look from her will unravel me instantly.

The buzz of my phone interrupts. We both sigh as I break away to get my phone off the desk. I haven't done much with the device except text my parents assurances that I'm okay. They had tried to call while I was . . . gone. They thought something had happened to me and it almost killed me to tell them otherwise. Possibly the most traumatizing time of my life and I couldn't even tell them. I'd avoided talking verbally to them at all costs just because I was afraid of slipping up. If I used the word 'werewolf,' they'd think I had a mental break.

My mom's face jingles across my screen. Steeling myself, I accept the call and press the glass to my face.

"Hi, Mom," I say.

"Emery!" she gasps. "Honey, I've been calling all morning."

"Sorry," I mumble. "I was, uh, in my yoga class."