Page 14 of Possessive Alpha

She’s right. “I guess I’m more relaxed.”

There’s so little to worry about here. I don’t have to think about finding us a safe place to sleep, food to eat, or a job to pay for gas. If I wanted to, I could sleep in until midday and no one would mind. I never would because I like to keep busy.

Clara wiggles her eyebrows. “Because of a certain alpha with a?—”

“Clara…” I warn her.

“I’ll get the dirty towels.” She walks into the bathroom but pauses, peering over her shoulder to reveal a more serious expression than I’d expected. “I like the way he makes you smile. You don’t smile enough.”

That’s probably true.

“And also, he has a nice ass.” She winks.

I lob a pillowcase at her.

She ducks, laughing, and goes to grab the dirty towels from our bathroom.

I stand there, absorbing her comment. Ty does have a nice ass. More than that, he has this amazing ability to make me feel lighter with his presence alone. And I touch my forehead. It’s wrinkle free, the way it always seems to be these days.

Not because this is a place I can sleep late whenever I want, but because of a certain alpha, who, when he’s close, makes it impossible to feel anything but safe.

CHAPTER 6

I’ve gotten very good at avoiding Ty Logan.

After his soft kiss left me so confused about what I wanted and how much I wanted it, I spent most of the day hiding out in my room with Clara, and generally, finding the only places in the house where Ty isn’t likely to enter.

Since it isn’t in my wolf’s nature to remain cooped up inside for hours or days at a time, all that self-imposed quiet time has left my wolf antsy and me itching for fresh air. I’m up at the crack of dawn the next morning, hoping a run will help me clear my mind.

I slip out of the house so early the sky is still black. The house is dead quiet, and I’m swallowing a series of extra wide, jaw-cracking yawns as I quietly close the back door behind me.

Snores drift from partially open windows as I creep down the porch, wood creaking slightly under my bare feet.

It’s not like me to run on my own like this. I run with Clara, and I join the pack runs that Jackson and Regan organize every couple of days.

Not everyone goes to all of them. In a pack increasing in numbers some weeks and decreasing in others, it’s hard to know how many people will turn up.

I always do.

Running in a pack has always appealed more to me than running on my own.

Still does.

But today, I need to think.

As soon as I’ve cleared the backyard, I strip out of my shorts and T-shirt, folding both before I leave them in a neat pile under a tree that’s lost most of its leaves.

I could have left the house naked, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be, and I have no desire to return to the house buck naked mid-breakfast.

I’m not shy about my body. Like most shifters, everyone expects some nakedness before and after pack runs. Since I’m not exactly eager to show everything to everyone if I can avoid it, I left the house wearing clothes.

After taking a moment to wriggle my bare toes in the dewy cool grass, I sink to my hands and knees and reach for my wolf.

She emerges slowly, still half-asleep. My bones lengthen, dark brown fur sweeps over my rapidly cooling body, and human Martha gives way to the wolf, who inhales all the scents around her and wants to explore.

I’ve been running for ten minutes when a soft sound warns I’m no longer alone.

A part of me must have suspected he would follow because I’m not the slightest bit alarmed when a large brown-blond wolf with vivid green eyes steps free from behind a tree.

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