Page 47 of Possessive Alpha

I can’t see his face from the door, but I’d swear it’s tight with pain. He’s stopped groaning out loud. That doesn’t mean he’s okay. Far from it. It’s like he’s internalized his suffering.

I remember what he told me about his accident. He said he sometimes had trouble sleeping because of it. Is that what’s happening now?

He groans again, deciding my next course of action.

I step into the room and close the door behind me so the only source of light comes from his cell phone he has charging on the bedside table.

I reach his side in seconds and peer down at him.

His face is tight, lips flat, and sweat beads on his brow. I can’t see into his head to know what kind of dream he’s having, but I don’t have to.

A bad one.

“Ty,” I whisper loudly.

Nothing.

I slide into the bed beside him and prod his right overheated cheek with my index finger. From the way the sheets have twisted around his hips, he’s naked, and I don’t trust myself to touch much more than that.

“Ty?” I whisper a little louder.

He groans as he bats my hand away, but he remains resolutely asleep.

If I yell, people will rush in here to investigate the sound, find me in Ty’s bed, and… well, they might read into things. Wrong things. Especially about the nature of our relationship.

“Ty?” I hiss.

Upstairs, I swear I hear the creak of a floorboard and assume it must be Regan reacting to Ty’s pain.

She’s an omega, and so she should. Like Clara.

I could get Clara…

Immediately, I reject it. The reason I snuck away from her was so she wouldn’t know I was here. And I’m not sure why, but I don’t want Regan to see Ty like this. I don’t think he would want anyone to see him vulnerable and hurting.

He’s not responding to my voice, but I think he would respond to my touch. Or a very specific kind of touch.

I cup his jaw, lower my head, and after hesitating for a beat, touch my lips to his.

For several seconds, nothing happens.

I lift my head.

Suddenly, I’m flat on my back and Ty is blinking down at me. “Martha?”

His voice is husky with sleep, and he’s adorably confused. It takes everything I have not to kiss him again.

I lick my lips and focus on the reason I came here. Not to kiss Ty. To make sure he was okay and help him if he wasn’t.

“You were having a nightmare,” I explain.

I wait for an explanation as he continues to peer down at me, his expression blank.

The longer he doesn’t speak, the more I realize he doesn’t want to talk to me about it. And strangely, it hurts. I move to get out of his bed. “I’ll leave you?—”

His hot palm on my hip stops me, and he sighs gustily. “I haven’t had a nightmare like that for a while.” His concerned gaze sweeps over me. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Hurt me?

---