Page 22 of The Alpha Under My Bed

But she would be soon.

On the screen, Ellie shifted again, a quiet whimper slipping from her lips as she curled in on herself, her fingers gripping at the blankets, at the empty space around her. Searching. Wanting.

She was starting to realize something was wrong.

She had never remembered her heats in the past—never feltthe true depthof her body’s desperation. I had always made sure she was too far gone before she ever got the chance.

But this time?

This time, she was going to feel every second of it.

Every ache. Every need.

Every single way her body was calling for an alpha—for me.

My thumb dragged over the screen, zooming in.

She shifted, rolling onto her stomach, pressing deeper into the nest. A soft tremor ran through her thighs as she ground against nothing, lost in the haze of heat. She wasn’t even awake yet, and already, she was begging.

By now, the scent of her heat would be thick—saturating every inch of that apartment, soaking into the blankets, the pillows, the very air. And she had no idea. No idea that not a single drop of relief was coming.

Her body was primed for me.

Soft. Pliable. Ready.

And when she finally woke up?

When she reached between her thighs and realized she was locked down?

A growl rumbled low in my throat. My hand drifted, palming myself through my jeans, rolling my hips into the touch.

I pocketed my keys and stepped into the dim hallway, reaching into my jacket for the small bottle of scent blockers I kept just for her. The familiar hiss filled the air as I sprayed along the edges of her doorframe, ensuring no one else would ever know what was waiting inside.

Only me.

Only her alpha.

I inhaled deeply, exhaling slow through my nose as I slipped the bottle back into my pocket and reached for the doorknob. The locks gave way easily beneath my fingers, the weight of the key pressing warm against my palm.

She never locked me out.

Even if she had, it wouldn’t have mattered.

I pushed the door open, stepping inside and locking it behind me in one smooth motion. Shadows pooled in the small studio, moonlight spilling through the sheer curtains, bathing everything in silver.

Her scent was everywhere.

Thick. Sweet. Perfect.

It clung to every surface, coating the air in something so intoxicating my head swam. I had been aching for this—craving it—since her last heat. Since the moment I had slipped out of her nest, leaving her satisfied, bred, completely unaware of what had happened.

But not this time.

This time, I wasn’t leaving.

Reaching into my bag, my fingers traced over the smooth, familiar surface of the mask before slipping it into place. The world shifted slightly behind the eye sockets, the shadows cutting sharper, the weight of it grounding me.

I had always worn it—every single time I had taken care of her.

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