The Demon Alpha (Stryders #1) - PUBLISHED

Chapter 15

Lance is quick to act, getting the fire extinguisher from the wall next to the door and spraying the curtain. He stares at it for a second, looking perplexed, his jaw ticking.

What even happened?! "That's crazy," I say a little shakily. This happened twice now.

"Indeed," Lance says, turning back to me, his eyes rake over me once as if I could have gotten injured. "You'll need to go easy on your feet."

"I'm out of training?" I ask too excitedly. Training with Bo was one thing. Training with dictator Grace is a whole other monster. I'm pretty sure the military would be more than willing to hire her. She took life too serious.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you sprained your ankle on purpose," Lance says, and I smile because I did that once in my old pack.

"I should have thought about it earlier," I joke. The ankle brace tight on my foot.

"Go easy for the next few days or until Raquel comes and can give you a proper diagnosis."

"I'm fine," I brush it off, getting on the floor, and immediate the sting of my ankle makes me wince. Okay, so I'm not fine. "Ouch."

Lance looks like he too is in visible pain and takes a deep breath. "Go easy on it. Stay in bed for a little. Should I carry you to-"

"NOPE," I shake my head vehemently. I already wanted to die when he did pick me up. Not again. Although, it was kind of nice. But still. No. "I need to get it working."

"At least let me help you get to your room," Lance insists. He's trying to make sure I don't die within the next like 200 feet I walk. It's kind of cute.

"Okay," I say nervously, thinking about how I left my room and hoping there's nothing embarrassing laying on the ground. Meg bought some other clothing along with this shirt this morning...

I look at the mirror getting out of the infirmary, and my mouth drops. This shirt gave me really good cleavage, I'd have to admit.

Lance opens my room door for me, and I knew it was a horrible idea for him to see the chaotic tornado that was my room. I quickly try to get in front of Lance, to block him off of having a view of this messiness. Maybe my room being messy is some kind of metaphor for my life.

"It's not usually this messy," I start to say, looking over to make sure nothing like...oh my gosh. Meg. Melissa. I'm going to need to just get hit by a car.

A Victoria's Secret bag I didn't see Meg even bring in the room has fell over, and this red bra that covered in legit  silver gems on it- aka a hooker's bra-was plain in sight. And some red thongs to go with it. I nearly choke. Who thought this was a good idea? When will I ever wear something like this? 

Lance's head turns to where I momentarily stared in horror, and I impulsively  placed my hands on his eyes. "DON'T!" I screech. With my hand still on his eyes, "Close your eyes tightly, and turn around slowly, and pretend you didn't seen anything."

I slowly peel my hand from his eyes, seeing his eyes shut, and his mouth it twitching up. "Slowly turn around. Or fast. The faster, the better actually."

"Alright," Lance's voice is laced in amusement. He turns around a little slow for my liking, but at least my room is out of his line of sight.

"Now just walk away. Act like you've seen nothing, Lance Stryder."

"I've seen nothing," he repeats, making me wonder if he got my TV show reference. He walks forward, and I quickly shut my room, locking it, and turning around to my mess of a room. My ankle hurts too much to clean it right now, but I'm putting the Victoria's Secret bag far into the depths of my closet.