My Female Alpha

FOUR

lenora

I consider walking directly into the house, but if they don't notice my presence immediately, I'll be annoyed. So I ceremoniously ring the doorbell.

"Coming!" calls a female voice.

My gaze roams around the porch while I wait. The white paint is peeling from the old columns and shudders and the black railings are faded with age and weather. A few broken rocking chairs tut in the slight breeze. This house needs a little TLC.

The door jerks open and a young woman with braids stands in its place. Her tipsy smile goes limp with suspicion.

"Hey," she says. "You the pizza deliverer?"

My jaw tightens. See, this is why I can't fucking tolerate humans. I sniff subtly to see if this is the rogue culprit, but her scent is stale and odoriferous—definitely human. I lift my gaze over her head to peer into the house. Bodies mill about in the different rooms, the loud chatter of their conversations drifting out to us.

"Uh, hello?" she demands now.

"No, I'm not here with your fucking pizza," I snap. "I'm looking for someone."

"Who? Did someone invite you?" Her eyes rake skeptically over me.

"A man. I don't know his name."

She suddenly laughs. "Oh, honey, you came to the wrong house."

"No, darling, I believe I am just where I need to be," I growl. "Now, step aside and let me find who I need to find so I can stop wasting both of our time."

The woman scowls and says, "Listen, you better leave. I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not just going to let you in here."

"Yes, you will. You won't like what I do if you don't."

"Okay, I'm calling the po—"

In a blink, I seize her throat in my hand. The rest of her sentence rasps off. I squeeze until I feel the blood flow halt in her neck. She gasps desperately and scratches at my hand. I glare into her eyes, unfazed.

"You let me in now or I will do something worse to you," I hiss.

I shove her away from me and wipe her human smell from my hands onto my jeans. Now I'm gonna have to hot wash them later. My mood sours further. The woman catches herself on the door and sucks air raggedly into her lungs. She regards me with wide, terrified eyes. She steps aside and, rubbing at her neck, makes room for me. I step into the house.

The people in the immediate room have been so preoccupied with a board game that they didn't notice the spectacle. At hearing someone enter, however, they all turn to look.

I scan the room and sniff at the air. This needs to be done as quickly as possible.

"Who's your lady friend?" someone asks the girl who let me in.

She remains silent as I move through the room and into the next. It's a kitchen. Three people crowd the small space, red plastic cups in their hands. My senses sharpen at once. I can see the dust motes floating in the air, feel the misled draft of an open window, and hear the flutter of a pattering heart. I drag a breath into my nose.

Acidic, rotted orange and delicate, sweet peaches. Two distinct scents. The rogue and my mate. Both are in one room. Standing before me now. My eyes tick between the stunned people. One of them, a young woman with thick black hair and matching eyes, raises her hand in question.

"Can we help you?" she asks impatiently.

I feel absolutely no compulsion towards her. My heart crawls into my throat. My mate is here. In this room. I look at the next girl leaning against the counter beside the raven-haired one. She is shorter, fairer-complected, and starstruck. Her eyes are glued to my face. They look to be a light brown at first but, as I focus on her, I see the ring of dark emerald green around her pupil and marching flecks around her iris. An intense heat courses through my chest and down to my core. The man on the other side of my mate stiffens.