Page 12 of Wolf Targeted
Why does it seem like every time we take a step forward in our relationship, he takes two steps back?
“What’s wrong, alpha?” McKenna asks.
I jump, having completely forgotten that I’m not alone. I place a hand on my chest to slow my thumping heart.
“You scared me,” I say breathlessly.
“Sorry, you were frowning.” McKenna points to my face.
“Oh, my mind wandered off a bit.” I turn away from the woman.
I’m starting to think that all wolves see too much and that wolf intuition is a bitch of epic proportions.
She pats me on the shoulder before grabbing another basket. “I’m right here if you want to talk.”
Maybe I should ask her opinion. She’s a mated female, so she might have some insight into what I should do.
I chew my lip. The pack gossips like a bunch of old ladies, though, and if they think there is division among the alpha pair, there may be other issues.
The unmated females that still hold out hope that I will turn on Archer will think they have a shot with the alpha.
My wolf growls in the back of my mind at the thought of Rochelle and her bitchy friends.
No, I can’t talk to anyone but Angela about what’s going on with my mate. It will do more harm than good in the end.
“Thank you for the offer, but it’s rather personal.” I smile awkwardly, then head down the aisle to where the boxed food is kept to get away from McKenna’s prying gaze.
I take a cleansing breath. I can’t show weakness, just like Archer can’t. If I do, I could be challenged. Not that any female in the pack could beat me in a challenge.
Would Archer even care if someone challenged me? I doubt it very much. I thought we turned a corner when he realized I’m not going anywhere, but something’s changed.
Why is it so hard to get through to him? Why can’t he just be my mate—the man who was so tender and almost loving after I explained myself. I know he has it in him.
“Jara?” McKenna calls.
I spin on my heel and tap the shelf with my elbow. “Ow, yeah?”
“Are you okay?” she asks as she rounds the corner.
“Yeah, I just smacked my elbow,” I groan.
“Alpha, watch out,” McKenna screams and points at the shelf behind me.
An ominous creak fills the air, and I spin just as the shelf crashes into me.
The impact knocks me over. I cry out in agony as my head smacks the tile floor hard and the heavy metal shelf crushes my chest.
Boxes litter the floor, and McKenna races forward to help.
My vision blurs and the room spins. My oversensitive ears pick up faint dripping.
Am I bleeding? Is that blood dripping from the back of my head?
Reaching up, I shove the shelf off my body and roll away.
How did that happen?
I push to my hands and knees, my head still spinning, and stagger to my feet.
