Page 45 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

Suffocating me by sitting on my face is one of her favorite tactics to get me to wake up.

“Fine!” I shout hoarsely. “I’m up! I’m up! Will you stop trying to murder me?!”

Her mission accomplished, Mano jumps to the bedroom floor and waits for me. I push the bed sheet off, only to find myself completely naked and bruised from head to toe.

For one brief, horrifying moment, I come to the worst possible conclusion. Then, as my eyes raise to survey the room, I see a small, dainty-looking basket of flowers lying on my dressing table.

It takes me less than a second to recall everything from last night, and I feel the blood drain from my body.

Oh, dear God.

What have I done?

I sink back on the bed, the bruises, the aches, everything making much more sense. Why didn’t I slam my head into the wall before I let Robert Montgomery anywhere near me yesterday? Why did I even let him into my apartment? I wasn’t that drunk when we got here!

I turn my head to the right and see that the sheets are crumpled, as if somebody has been there.

He slept here?

I bury my face in my hands. He didn’t get dressed and go home? He decided to spend the night?!

How is this situation progressively getting worse?!

When Mano puts her paws on the bed and nudges me with her head, impatiently, I look at her tearfully. “Do you mind? My life is falling apart here.”

She gives me a judgmental glance before slinking back to the floor and trotting away. Seconds later, I hear the sound of her steel food bowl clanging on the ground, as if to tell me my problems don’t trump her breakfast time.

I force myself to sit up, swallowing my cries as my body aches in new ways. When I see Mano peeking through the doorway, I mutter, “I love you and all, but dang, you can be a bitch sometimes.”

The response is another meow, which is probably her insulting me right back.

I don’t know how I get to my feet. My legs feel weak, and I nearly fall down twice. I have to grip the furniture to walk, my lower body hurting like anything.

“I should have knocked him out with a frying pan,” I mumble to myself. “One smack and none of this would have happened. Should have tossed him out on his ass. Oh, God, he’s going to kill me!”

I grip the door frame, my chest feeling cold with dread now, remembering how I drank from him.

I slump to the floor, the recollection of this little tidbit of information sapping me of all strength. How am I still alive?

I, a vampire, drank an Alpha’s blood. My head shouldn’t even be attached to my body right now.

When Mano comes over to investigate why I’m not responding to her little tantrum, I let out a strangled sound. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about me feeding you anymore, Mano. I’ll probably be dead by tomorrow.”

To an outsider, it may seem like I’m being overdramatic, but wolf shifters never let vampires drink from them. I don’t know why Robert didn’t react the way any other wolf shifter would have. Why did he let me do that? Why am I still breathing right now? And where is he?

I look around. The apartment seems to be empty.

Using the door frame to get to my feet again, I make my way into the kitchen.

That’s when I notice the covered dishes on the kitchen table. And the crushed portion of the kitchen marble. There is a small note on it that says “Someone will come to fix this at one o’clock this afternoon. Make sure you’re home. Sorry.”

I glance at the wall clock.

It’s eleven in the morning. I missed my morning shift.

I can’t even pretend to care right now as I sink into the chair, grabbing Mano’s food container. I don’t have the strength to walk all the way over to where her bowl is, so I just put a fistful of her dry food on a corner of the table. She jumps up and eyes me as if I have done her some great injustice, but I point to the kibble and say, “I’m dying, Mano. Not everything is about you today.”

I swear if my cat could roll her one functioning eye, she would.

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