Page 11 of Possessive Alpha

Although I sometimes help Regan prepare the food, cooking is what she excels at, and it’s what she loves to do. So she does. I don’t know any Luna—the female leader of the pack—so happy to do chores, but Regan is a natural-born caretaker of all those around her.

She flashes me a grin and waves at Clara between adding more bacon to a rapidly emptying platter. “Just in time. These guys and bacon…” She shakes her head. “You would not believe me if I told you how much they eat.”

I do. We all do.

Jackson leans over Regan’s shoulder to snag a piece of bacon and claim a kiss from her. “It isn’t just bacon that’s a favorite around here.”

She visibly melts. “Shut up with your cringy compliments,” she says, but she’s tilting her head up for another kiss.

Clara and I leave them to it, quickly dishing up our breakfast and filling glasses of orange juice before we head to our preferred eating place: the dining room table. Clara likes to talk to anyone who will listen, and I like to soak up the feeling of a pack surrounding me.

I love being with Clara, but I’ve always felt more secure and relaxed in a pack than when it’s just Clara and me. She doesn’t know because I’ve never told her. Clara would force herself to stay somewhere to make me happy, even if it made her miserable.

As I take my usual seat facing the backyard windows, I notice the spot opposite is empty. Clara takes hers alongside me, and we dig into our breakfast.

There’s no sign of Ty yet, which is odd. He’s an early riser, usually already eating his breakfast as Clara and I take our seats.

But he’s not here.

Is something wrong with him? Should I ask Clara, or will my question add more fuel to her suspicions that I’ve fallen for Ty?

I glance at her. She’s finished her pancakes and started on her bacon. When her eyes slide from me to the empty space opposite and widen suggestively, I keep my mouth shut.

I’m lifting a forkful of eggs to my mouth when a male voice approaches on my left. “Is anyone sitting here?”

It’s not Ty. I knew it wouldn’t be him because the scent wasn’t right. It’s not bad. Woodsy and spiced to Ty’s sandalwood and fresh scent. But it didn’t stop me from wanting to believe it was Ty when I heard footsteps approach.

A blond guy is holding a heaping plate in one hand, and his other rests on the back of the empty chair beside me, his brow raised as he waits for my answer.

He doesn’t look familiar, so he must be a new arrival. Some stay for a couple of days, others for a week or two before they move on. Either they cause trouble, realize this place isn’t for them, or… I don’t know why else someone would want to leave.

But others stay. Like I want to stay because in the short time I’ve been here, it’s felt more like home than any other place we’ve been in since we left our pack.

He’s handsome, I note in an abstract way. The way I’d notice a painting was nice to look at. He doesn’t pull at my attention, making it impossible to focus on anything else the way Ty does.

I shrug. “There’s no assigned seating, so you can sit anywhere.”

A slow, seductive smile stretches his lips as he pulls out the chair beside me. “Then I’ll take the one beside the most beautiful woman in the room.”

If the forkful of eggs had made it to my mouth, I’d have choked on them. Clara isn’t so fortunate. I distractedly pat her on her back as she coughs and splutters, while trying not to notice the way everyone in the room is suddenly quiet.

Ty has been nothing less than possessive of me during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Doesn’t matter what it is or where I am. He finds me, and he makes it clear to anyone around that I’m his.

Apparently, this guy did not get the message.

Ty isn’t here.

Yet.

Unsure what to do, I put my fork down and reach for my glass of juice. Because this never happens. Clara is the beautiful one. The classic blonde with the curves and big blue eyes. She’s the one the guys always flirt with.

I’m lean and petite. Cute or sometimes pretty. Guys don’t flirt with me, and they don’t call me beautiful.

Or, at least, they didn’t until I met Ty. He was the first guy who told me I was beautiful and made me believe it.

A hand rests on the back of my chair.

Not Ty.

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