Some Alpha 52
Echo was right. Fenris hides under the dinette table as I vacuum black fur off the daybed comforter. I’d tried to kick him out when I woke up to a furry, dead weight on my feet, but he’s ultimately too heavy to drag out the door. The vacuum roars as I attack another patch of black fur. Every swipe feels like a tiny rebellion against the wolf–against Asher–against this whole ridiculous situation. If I can’t control anything else in my life, at least I can eliminate this evidence of unwanted company. A pathetic whimper sounds from behind me, followed by the rhythmic thump–thump–thump of a tail against the camper’s floor. I refuse to turn around. Fenris might look like an oversized puppy right now, but he’s not. He’s a full–grown wolf, and he knows exactly what he did wrong. I shut off the vacuum with more force than necessary. The sudden silence feels accusatory. “You should get dressed. Echo doesn’t look up from her phone, just sips her coffee, her rainbow hair catching the morning light through the windows. “They’ll be here soon.” My stomach drops, and I groan. “Do I have to?” Last night’s dreams flash through my mind–fragments of nightmares where I was locked in a stone tower, my blonde hair grown long like Rapunzel’s, watching the world through a tiny window. But worse than those were the other dreams–the ones where Asher’s hands weren’t dragging me away but pulling me close, his mouth not speaking threats but… Heat crawls up my neck. “Unless you want to greet the Lycan King in your pajamas.” Echo sounds utterly unconcerned. “Which, honestly, might be a power move.” I’m not sure how pajamas equal power, but I grab one of Echo’s old band t–shirts and a pair of stretchy shorts and take them with me to the bathroom. Five minutes later, I’m back out, second–guessing the shorts. But my jeans are dirty, and Echo’s don’t fit. “Weren’t we supposed to go to-” I stop, frowning at Fenris. “You know, away?” Echo finally looks up, her slitted eyes unreadable. “It would just be a waste of money at this point.” “What?” “Gas. Food. Lodging” She ticks off each item on her fingers. “All expensive. And for what? He’s not going to let you go so easily.” Ugh. < 52 Chapter 52 I’m not sure why Asher’s even hunting me down, but after last night, it’s pretty y clear he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to take over the Blue Mountain Pack or something. Taint it with half–human, half–shifter babies? He seems pretty obsessed with bringing up my relationship to Xander, and now he’s worried about Evan, too. “That makes sense, I mumble. “What does?” “Oh. I think I figured out why Asher’s hunting me down. Werewolves are purists, you know? They don’t like it when humans mix with their pack. Even before everything went south, it was pretty rough for me.” Setting her phone on her lap, Echo gives me her full attention, her eyebrows bunching together. She seems concerned more than interested. Maybe she’s worried about me. “Okay. Hit me with your theory, then.” Flopping onto the daybed, I fiddle with the ends of my hair, noticing how some strands are lighter than others. “I’m thinking Asher’s worried I’ll try to… I don’t know, seduce Xander back or something? Use our history to influence him? Or maybe he’s concerned I’ll corrupt his something? Use our history to in bloodline. This probably doesn’t make a lot of sense to Echo, who only has bits and pieces of my backstory. “Xander’s the new alpha of the pack,” I add helpfully as she stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. She nods slowly. “Okay…” *Anyway. Shifters are obsessed with purity, right? So it makes sense he’d be suspicious of my intentions….