Page 99 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

Walking back inside, I see the barista, who is looking shocked from the sight of all the blood. “I’m sending someone to clean up and fix the damage in the bathroom. My girlfriend was sick.”

Terrence is sitting now, his eyes dark as I approach his table. Picking up Charlotte’s belongings, I toss his coat onto the seat across from him. Meeting his gaze, and unable to stop myself, I tell him, “She’s never going to be yours. Keep that in mind. I’ve already claimed her.”

Fury fills his eyes, and I smile, satisfied.

******

We’re both drenched from walking back to the office to pick up my car. Charlotte is quiet throughout the walk and as we start to drive.

I have questions, but I’ll save them for later.

I’ve already contacted Harry to send a cleanup crew. I also asked him to take a sample of the blood that Charlotte threw up. Something about it doesn’t sit right with me.

Charlotte finally speaks, looking at me curiously. “This isn’t the way to your house.”

I keep my eyes on the road. “I’m bringing you to the shelter so Ricky can take a look at you.”

“Why?” Her voice is tense. “There’s no reason to. I’m fine.”

“I know you think you’re fine, but your scent has changed,” I confess.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She sniffs herself as if that will provide the answer. “Do I stink?”

“No.” I chuckle lightly, unable to help myself at her amusing reaction. “You could never stink.”

The way she gags at my words makes me chortle.

I’m not worried about her. She seems fine, and I don’t want to frighten her. It’s better to pretend everything is okay. Charlotte has enough on her plate without adding more problems. However, it is true that her scent has changed. There’s something sweeter and wilder about it. I can’t put my finger on it, but my wolf likes it. He’s been nudging me ever since she got in my car.

As we pull onto the street where the animal shelter is, I slow down. I can’t see the place. It’s as if my brain is scrambling.

“What are you doing?” Charlotte suddenly touches my arm. “You’re driving right past it.”

“Sorry,” I mutter. I still can’t see it.

After parking the car, I open my umbrella and rush to meet Charlotte as she is getting out. Shielding her from the rain, I let her walk slightly in front of me. She gives me a strange look that I ignore. As she puts her hand on the glass door, I suddenly recognize the shelter.

My suspicions are growing.

“Ricky?” Charlotte calls out. As she sets down her bag, she gives me an irritable look. “I don’t know what you think he can do for me. We should have gone home first so I could change into something dry. I look like a drowned rat.”

“A very pretty, drowned rat,” I supplement helpfully, already knowing I’m going to pay dearly for the wiseass comment.

She stomps on my foot, and the strength behind the stomp has me gasping.

“Holy—”

“Charlotte?” Ricky walks out of the back room, and his eyes widen in shock at the sight of us, or mostly her. “What happened?! Are you hurt?!”

“She vomited,” I tell him. “A lot. Something that smelled like rotten blood.”

Ricky’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say?”

“Rotten blood?” Charlotte tilts her head at me in surprise. “Is that really what it smelled like?”

However, my focus is on Ricky, and the troubled expression on his face doesn’t escape me.

“How’re you feeling right now?” Ricky asks her.

---