He Had To Be An Alpha?

Chapter 3

«Alex's POV»

My wolf moves her head left and right, snarling at the stench of disgusting Rogue corpses.

Once she is convinced that there is nothing worth killing, I back control, irritated and tired.

I look around, panting slightly and see Rogue bodies strewn about like laundry.

The corpses are all shredded, and flies are already swirling around there carcasses, getting suck in the warm sticky fluid.

I shake myself off trying to spray all of the thick blood coated my fur, but stop as I suddenly become light headed.

I force my bones to break and I phase back painfully into my human form.

I try to run my fingers through my hair, but the sticky blood makes it nearly impossible.

I am drenched in Rogue blood from head to toe and my clothes are in tatters.

I turn to the road sluggishly and see my pack looking at me with mixed expressions of horror and amazement.

Although, most of them have fear in their eyes.

I turn my stiff neck to the side to spit blood out of my mouth while clutching the cut on my stomach.

"Stupid Rogues," I say a bitterly. Gnashing my teeth together as my fangs retract.

I make my way to my stunned pack on rubbery legs, concentrating solely on placing on foot in front of the other.

"Now I see why they made you Pack Warrior," a guy says eyeing me up and down, impressed.

I noticed Jake's body become completely still, his eyes glazing over.

He must be mind-linking someone.

He looks into my eyes, and takes a step forward hesitantly, eyeing my bloody form distastefully.

He looks at Alpha Tyler pleadingly.

Alpha Tyler sends Jake a pointed look, and Jake's sighs deeply, grumbling inaudibly under his breath-most likely cursing my existence.

"You're paying for my dry cleaning," he grumbles walking over to me.

"I promise to clean my blood off of your seat . . ." I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence because I am scooped up into strong arms.

I lean my head tiredly against his shoulder. "Scout's honor," I finish, bringing my hand up in what most likely is not a scout salute.

But I mean I was in no state to really care.

"Shut up and rest," he mutters.

I crack a smile at that, thankful that my split lip is already healed.

Being a white wolf makes my healing process speed up rapidly. That's the only reason I didn't die the last time I took on a Rogue Pack of that size.

"I told you I didn't want to come," I murmur against his neck. He growls lowly.

"Don't do that," he says. I can feel his temperature spike.

"Okay Jakey," I say.

My eyes droop heavily as he settles me into the comfortable seat of his Lamborghini, and buckles me in-grumbling about getting blood on his leather seats.

"Sleep Steel," he urges leaning back to close my door.

"What about my baby?" I ask, looking for my motorcycle.

"Shhh," Jake pushes me back into the seat, and my muscles are too sore to protest. "Henry is driving it over there. We know we'd never hear the end of it if we left it."

"You know it," I agree, smirking.

I can hear Jake chuckling next to me.

I peep through my eyelashes, and see him smiling while shaking his head.

"Thanks Jake," I say leaning my head against the window.

Black starts to cloud my vision like huge cotton balls.