Page 19 of Alpha King

I am so fucked.

I am beyond fucked.

This human female is the bane of my existence.

My fear for her–that terror at seeing her step off the ledge–still pumps through my veins. The only way to save her was to shift back into human form, and now she’s seen me.

She knows my secret.

I’ve broken pack law.

I glare down at her. “What in the hell were you doing?” Adrenaline makes my voice rough. My eyes must be changing color because her lids widen, and her mouth falls open. “You’re the wolf who tried to attack me through my window the other night.”

“I wasn’t attacking you. I–” I try to flip the questions back on her. “Why were you going to jump?”

It’s hard to imagine this haughty rich girl is suicidal, but that’s what I saw. She literally was stepping off the ledge.

I had to do something.

She pushes up to a seated position and tries to smooth the tattered edges of her button-down shirt enough to cover a melon-pink bra. She’s unsuccessful. I tore the shirt almost up to her armpits.

I try not to look at the bare skin of her midriff. I’m already out of control enough.

“I wasn’t going to jump.”

I don’t smell a lie on her, but there is a heaviness to her that I didn’t notice before. I was too caught off-guard by my reaction to her scent and her body, too annoyed by her haughty demeanor to have realized that she might be unhappy.

But unhappy enough to jump off a cliff? Or to contemplate it? That doesn’t seem quite right.

I extend a hand because leaving a female sitting on her ass isn’t gentlemanly. I half expect her to slap it away, but she puts her palm in mine.

Out of habit, I modulate my strength to pretend I can’t just lift her weight with total ease, then remember that it’s too late for that.

It’s too late, and I need to fix this problem fast.

Midway up, I change course, duck my shoulder to fit in the crease of her hip, and lift her straight from the ground to the air.

“Abe!” she shrieks as her torso swings down my back. “What the fuck?”

I’m sure she doesn’t appreciate the view of my naked ass or being manhandled this way. I know it’s fucked up, but what choice do I have?

I take off running, trying to keep my gait even and smooth, so I don’t bounce my upside-down captive too much.

She smacks my bare ass. “Abe! What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

I don’t answer. There’s no explaining what’s going to happen to her now, and doing so would only traumatize her further. Probably my best bet at this point is to keep my mouth shut until I’ve fixed this.

What I don’t count on–what I never count on–is Lauren stealing my sanity.

She smacks my ass again, then grips one of my buttcheeks and squeezes hard, digging her nails into my flesh. I might have been able to handle the torture of having her hands on my bare flesh if it wasn’t for the scent of her arousal blooming right beside my nose.

Before I can even think, a wolf-like snarl leaves my lips, and I turn my head and sink my teeth into her thigh.

Oh fuck!

Fortunately, my canines hit the fabric of her jean shorts, not her actual flesh. I punch holes through the fibers of cotton but stop myself before I puncture her skin.

Oh, fates. That was a mating bite.

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