My Female Alpha

FIFTY THREE

lenora

A pang of déjà vu slices through me as I race through the quiet Sunday streets of Lemley. Denver's bike roars between my legs, the booming sound ricocheting off the historic brick facade.

Panic slams into my temples with each racing thought. This feels like losing Emery again. Like Ara has bested me, yet again.

I knew I should have kept Emery here. I should have trusted my fucking instincts that have never once led me astray.

She blinds me of all logic and common sense. It hurts to admit that she reduces me to my most primal, animalistic self.

I want to please her and make her feel safe. I love her so goddamn much.

After all of this shit we've survived, I never want her to be in such a situation. This was idiotic and reckless. I should have just handled the situation for her by terminating the lease contract.

The rogues could not have her again. I would rather kill every single one of those mother fuckers before I let Ara touch her again.

That bitch dies today.

Of course, Ara and her leader chose to make an ostentatious display in a public, human-concentrated municipality. Only a suicidal moron would pull a stunt like that.

Whether one belongs to a pack or not, every wolf has an obligation to protect our identity. Humans are forbidden from learning about the existence of our species to preserve our kind. Only mated humans are permitted to know our secret.

I have grounds to end several lives today and my blood lust hums in my veins at the idea.

The only possible benefit to their public demonstration is that they might have exercised more caution in handling my mate to prevent from causing a scene.

I am already losing my mind from not knowing her condition. If she is injured in any way when I get to her, all involved parties will meet their fate today.

My connection to Emery's emotions through the mate bond has been watered down thanks to Arabella's marking, but I feel her fear intensify as the coffee shop comes into view.

Her fright inflates a new wave of rage inside of me. My handles clench around the handle bars.

Arabella will be dead soon and I can't wait to get my fucking hands on this Jacob. He has ruined more lives than I can count.

I'm going to make sure he pays for each innocent pack wolf and rogue he has taken advantage of.

The tires on the bike screech as I whip into the parking lot. A white Cadillac and a dingy car reeking of that Calla bitch sit on either side of my Jeep.

There's Arabella's rancid odor and one very distinct smell that I've never smelt before. I park the bike and feel a familiar pull to the animal side of me.

My vision sharpens down to the tiniest grain. I smell every scent around me, moving in the dynamic pattern of each scent bearer's walking path.

Emery's scent leads me to the door but I pause. Very vaguely, I catch a fresher hint of her smell. If my senses weren't so poised now, I might have missed it.

I spin around and follow my mate's scent directly to the Cadillac. My eyes have to shift to see through the dark window tint.

I capture just a glimpse of Emery in Arabella's lap before a deep chuckle meets my ears.

Stepping away from the car, I turn towards the voice.

Jacob is taller than I expected. Most men are eye level or only a few inches taller than me. Werewolves are taller than humans in general, females especially.