Page 67 of Possessive Alpha

Two steps later, he stops me with a large hand cradling the nape of my neck. “You’re very strong, aren’t you?”

I’m not sure about that.

“Not really. I guess I just do what needs to be done. That’s all.”

A flash of anger flares in his eyes. I don’t understand why until his finger brushes my right temple, where Seth or Cody hit me and knocked me out. It doesn’t hurt, but there must still be some faint bruising for Ty to be so angry.

“Clara said you threw yourself at those shifters, screaming at her to go.”

The terror of that moment bubbles up in my mind. It doesn’t linger because I don’t think I was really afraid. Or I guess I was. But not about what Seth and Cody would do to me.

I was terrified I wouldn’t get to Clara in time.

“She was in danger. I had to protect her,” I say. “It didn’t matter what happened to me.”

He stares at me. “You say things like that and it makes me want to tie you to my bed.”

“You want to do what?”

He kisses me on the brow. “You heard me. Because I very much care what happens to you. Come on, let’s get you in this shower, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t let me do a thing in the bathroom. Not even undress. He strips my dirty clothes from me, tosses them aside, and leads me into the shower cubicle.

No one has ever taken such care of me before. I’m glad I have my back to him in the shower as he washes my hair, so he doesn’t see the tears filling my eyes. I think I’ve passed the point where I was falling in love with him and reached the point that I’m there.

Before I know it, I’m dried, dressed in one of his T-shirts that swamps me, and back in bed.

“When did you last eat?” he asks.

“I’m not?—”

His finger silences me. “Martha, you need to learn to take better care of yourself, or I will.”

I smile at him. “That’s the most ridiculous threat I’ve ever heard in my life.”

He returns my smile. After stepping into a pair of sweatpants, he heads for the door. “Wait there. I’ll be back.”

“And if I don’t wait?”

He peers over his shoulder, and his expression is perfectly serious. “I tie you down to that bed.”

I take a second to gauge how serious he is, then I get into bed.

“No complaints?”

I pull the comforter over my bare legs, figuring I might as well get comfortable while I wait for my food. “You look like you want an excuse to do it.”

He chuckles as he opens his bedroom door and steps out. “I probably do.”

He isn’t gone long.

His bed is comfy. It smells like him, and after the longest day in the world, I’m close to falling asleep when he returns with a tray and two bowls.

“What is it?” I yawn.

Whatever it is smells yummy. Rich and fragrant and delicious.

He kicks the door closed behind him. “Stew. Regan had some on the stove and dished some for the both of us.”

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