Page 18 of The Alpha Under My Bed

Like he had been waiting for me all day.

Like he always would.

Six

MALCOLM

Ellie sat curledup on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, her sweater slipping just enough off her shoulder to expose a sliver of bare skin. She looked soft, warm—so perfectly at ease, completely unaware of the layers of control tightening around her. The glow of her phone screen cast a soft light over her face, illuminating the little furrow between her brows as she scrolled.

She probably thought she was just distracted, letting the day’s exhaustion sink into her bones. She didn’t realize that I had been watching her closely, tracking the first subtle shifts in her body. Her scent had started to sweeten—just a little. The first sign of her heat creeping up on her.

I kept my expression neutral, hands moving through the motions as I unpacked the groceries onto her counter, taking stock of what she had—or rather, what she didn’t.Her fridge was nearly empty, a single water bottle rolling lazily against the side door when I nudged it open. The pantry wasn’t much better, a half-empty box of crackers sitting beside a bag of tea.

Typical.

Ellie always forgot to prepare for her heats, always let things slip in the days leading up to them. Whether it was forgetfulness or her own stubborn denial, I wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter.

That’s what I was here for.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured, her voice still thick with exhaustion.

I glanced over my shoulder, arching a brow. “Who else is gonna do it?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but didn’t argue.

I turned back to the groceries, lining the shelves with precision. Bottled electrolyte drinks. Protein bars. Pre-cut fruit. Everything she could grab without thinking—things that would keep her hydrated and fed even when she was too deep into heat to function properly. I made sure each item was exactly where she’d expect it to be—another layer of control she didn’t even realize she was wrapped in.

When I shut the fridge, I leaned against the counter, arms crossed as I watched her. “Yeah? And what’s your grand plan when you’re stuck in your nest, too out of it to even get a drink?”

Her lips pressed together, stubborn as ever. She hated being reminded of how vulnerable heats made her.

I softened my tone, keeping my expression easy. “Just let me help, sweetheart.”

That did it.

Her shoulders sagged, a quiet sigh slipping past her lips as she tilted her head against the couch. “I know. You always do.”

She didn’t even realize it.

Didn’t see how this—her letting me take care of her, trusting me without question—was exactly what I wanted.

I knew what she needed better than she did.

And soon, she’d understand that, too.

Ellie barely looked up when I moved toward her closet, her attention locked onto whatever was on her phone. Probablysome article she found interesting, or a chat thread about scent matching. Something innocent. Something that made her feel like she had options.

I suppressed the flicker of irritation curling in my gut and crouched down, pulling out the heat kit from its usual spot tucked behind a stack of blankets. A simple plastic storage box, the lid slightly ajar from the last time she’d rummaged through it. A little messy, but predictable. Just like her.

“I should probably check this too,” I murmured, flipping the lid open. “Make sure you’re stocked up.”

“Everything should be in there,” she said through a yawn, stretching her arms above her head.

I hummed in response, pretending to scan the contents while my fingers traced over the neatly arranged items inside. Wipes. Heating pads. Electrolyte powders. Her weighted blanket, folded and ready to be pulled into her nest when the time came.

And then there were the toys.

My jaw tightened as my fingers hovered over them.

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