Page 30 of Wolf Targeted
“At least you will be alive to do it, alpha.” Alex crowds me and bumps his chest into mine.
I gasp. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“Anything can happen, and I prefer my alpha when he’s not burning the world down around us.”
Right. Like he would even care outside of some sense of duty to me as his mate.
He frowns at my scowl.
“You didn’t see the way he reacted to Grayson and his pack holding you. He was ready to burn the world down for you.” Alex shakes his head.
So, what has changed? Why was he ready to go to war for me one day and the next he can barely look at me?
“Seriously, Alex. I’m not going to hurt myself with the damn box cutter.”
Why are they being ridiculous?
Angela pats my shoulder. “Just do me a favor and stay away from the storeroom for a while.”
“Fine,” I say.
They aren’t wrong. I did have a shelf fall on me yesterday, and I don’t know if I would have been able to get up had McKenna not been there.
It would be dumb to hang out in there alone. I step around Alex, bumping him with my shoulder, and open the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.
Everything is a mess in the storeroom, and that fact has my hands twitching with the need to fix it, but I turn my back on the stairs leading to the basement and head back upstairs to my room.
May as well be locked in my room. I can’t fucking go anywhere.
I stare at the unmade bed and groan. I should’ve made it before I left with Angela.
Angela peeks her head in as I smooth out the sheet.
I turn to her with a frown as I pick up a pillow and fluff it. “What’s wrong? I thought you were going to patrol?”
“Just coming to tell you it may be a while before we can take that walk. Archer called a meeting with the enforcers.”
“Why? Has something happened?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t worry about it.” She shuts the door behind her.
Please don’t let anything else happen. The pack can’t take much more disaster.
8
Archer
“Alpha,” Patrick calls from across the town square.
“What is it, Patrick?” I turn and frown.
The man is breathing heavy, his pulse racing under his skin, and his eyes are wild with fear. The rancid stench of it fills the space between us.
“Alpha, I need a word in private,” he whispers.
I clap him on the shoulder and lead the way back to the pack house.
What could be bothering him so much that he can’t say it with the rest of the pack in hearing distance? No good can come from this.
