Page 30 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

Charlotte is smiling broadly when I look at her; her eyes are on the puppy. “This is the first time he’s behaved like this. He’s usually so docile and terrified. I can’t believe he likes you.”

It’s not just the puppy who’s begun to let their guard down around me, it seems.

Pleased, I pet his head. “How do you even look after one of these?”

“It’s not so hard,” Charlotte tells me. “If you have a backyard, that’s great. Otherwise, you have to take him out to relieve himself. Bring him in for a checkup at the vet every other month, give him food and water and loads of attention.”

Zeno whines and licks my chin as I rub his head. “What would I need? Like, a bed or something for him?”

“Yeah, you’ll need to get him his own bed, some chew toys, a leash—Wait.” Charlotte stops in her tracks, giving me a bewildered look. “Are you planning to adopt Zeno?”

I scratch the puppy under his chin. “If nobody wants him, I don’t mind taking him. But of course, since I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a puppy, I’ll have to come to you for guidance. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“No,” she replies after a moment. “But if you want to adopt him, I have to fill out the paperwork, and Ricky has to give Zeno another checkup before we can hand him over.”

She seems pretty happy, and the knowledge that this little puppy is most likely going to chew through most of my furniture doesn’t seem all that bad in the face of that bright smile right now.

As Charlotte takes Zeno from me and puts him back in his cage with a few treats, my eyes keep straying toward her. She’s got a soft heart, softer than typical for her kind or even for shifters. She’s also undeniably strong, given the circumstances she has clearly overcome. She should still be wary of me, but she seems to have forgiven my intrusion into her life quite easily.

It worries me.

How is she going to survive like this? In my eyes, she’s little more than a defenseless kitten, hissing at the world when it corners her. I doubt she’d like that description of her, though. She also has pride.

I hear the faint sound of footsteps out front. “I think the delivery guy is here.”

Charlotte looks surprised. “He is?”

She can’t hear him?

Now that I think about it, I don’t know exactly why her clan considered her defective. Her healing is slow, sure. But what else?

“I heard him knock,” I lie. “You finish up here, and I’ll go get the food.”

I’m already reaching for my wallet.

When I reach the front office, a teenager is standing outside the glass door holding two plastic bags filled with containers of food. I unlock the door and step outside, not missing the look of annoyance in his eyes. “How much?”

“Twenty-four dollars, plus a ten-dollar tip.” The boy puts the bags down on the street and holds out his hand expectantly.

I raise a brow. “Why don’t you carry the food inside then, if you want that tip?”

“I don’t have to do shit.” He makes a face.

I smile pleasantly. “Then I don’t have to pay shit.”

“I’m bringing my wallet!” Charlotte calls out as she walks outside. “Fred! How’s your arm?”

Fred flushes. “Hi, Charlotte. It’s okay. I went to a doctor. He said it was just a light sprain. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Charlotte looks concerned. “You really shouldn’t be carrying anything. Tell your father you can’t do any more deliveries till the sprain heals.”

Fred looks pleased, shooting me a smug look. “I’m really strong. And I like bringing you your orders. I put in an extra order of dumplings for you.”

He whispers the last part to her, giving her a small wink.

Charlotte beams at him. “Thanks! How much is the tot—”

“I’ve got it,” I interrupt her, glancing down at the boy’s arms. There looks to be nothing wrong with them, nothing swollen whatsoever.

---