Page 16 of Possessive Alpha

“What?” His voice is all innocence.

I sigh again. He kicks off a lot of heat, more than I do. And even though the day is a brisk, crisp one, his heat isn’t the reason I don’t move.

We watch the sunrise together.

“You spend a lot of time worrying about your sister,” he says, not looking at me.

“You think too much,” I say, reading between the lines.

He shakes his head. “She’s your little sister, and I guess there must be a reason that you two are alone without a pack. I understand responsibility, so no, that’s not what I think.”

“Our pack died. It’s just us.”

“I thought it might be something like that. How long have you been on your own?”

“Since Clara was sixteen, and I was nineteen.” It hits me suddenly just how long it’s been. “Six years.”

Has it really been that long?

“How did you hear about this place?” Ty asks, surprising me with his calmness.

I’d thought he’d ask me why I haven’t done the smart thing and just pick a new pack to join to avoid any potential dangers and pitfalls of being packless.

Because there are many pitfalls. Predatory men, the struggle to find a job and a safe place to stay, endless car troubles, shifters who see two females and assume we’re easy victims. And more. A whole lot more.

Living on the move means you learn to always stay alert.

But it isn’t as easy as picking a new place to call home. Clara is flighty, and me… I guess I am too, in my own way.

Home isn’t a place you point at a map and decide that’s where you’ll live from now on. If it doesn’t feel right, then it’s not home. Even if, on paper, it has everything you might think you need, like safety. And even if it offers all the creature comforts anyone would be lucky to have.

Sometimes, odd things happen, like running into an old shifter who drives an ancient station wagon and leads you to a place—the first place ever—that actually feels like home.

“I listened to an old man in a gas station.”

Ty looks at me, one eyebrow raised, disbelieving. “You did what?”

“It’s not as weird or crazy as it sounds.”

Actually, it kind of is.

“You’re right about that. It’s more terrifying.” Ty snorts, dragging me against his side as if to protect me—or more likely prevent me from doing such a stupid, crazy thing again. He refocuses on the sun in the distance. “Watch the sunrise, sweetheart.”

But I don’t. I watch him, fighting the urge to run my fingers over his stubbled jaw because it’s far too tempting when I’m this close. “You’re not going to try to kiss me?”

He glances down at me, his expression blank. “Is that what you want?”

Yes.

“No,” I lie.

A searching look, a snort of laughter, and he squeezes me. “The sunrise.” His gaze dips, and he sweeps his thumb over my bottom lip. “Before I give us what we both want.”

I look away, into the sky, before I can tell him to do it.

He tucks me closer against his chest, his chin on the top of my head as my arm creeps around his back. I inhale his scent deep into my lungs, hearing him do the same.

We watch the sunrise together, caught in another of those perfect moments.

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