Page 30 of Alpha's Touch
A hint of a smile touched Zeppelin’s lips. “We prefer shifters. Werewolves can’t control their shifts and howl at the moon and aren’t actually real.”
“Sorry, my monster manual is a bit outdated,” Preston said, hysteria bubbling just beneath his words.
He found himself drifting toward the windows as Zeppelin headed out of the house, peering out into the darkness. What exactly was he hoping to see? A pale face with blood-stained fangs pressed against the glass? Some Dracula wannabe in a cape? His mind conjured ridiculous images even as his heart hammered.
“What are we looking at?” Quinn asked, sauntering closer. “Bigfoot? Chupacabra? Your fashion sense?”
Preston glared at him. “Very funny. Apparently, we’re looking at vampires. You know, like in the movies, except real and probably way more terrifying.”
Quinn’s amusement faded slightly. “Ah, those assholes again. They just don’t learn, do they?”
“Again?” Preston’s voice rose an octave. “This happens regularly?”
“Only recently,” Quinn assured him, which was not at all reassuring. “We’ve got a few troublemakers who think they can hunt in our territory.”
Preston’s mind conjured images of drained bodies, pale and lifeless, dumped in the woods. This was too much. Too much on top of everything else. He’d barely processed the existence of wolf shifters, barely begun to understand what being Zeppelin’s mate meant, and now vampires were added to the mix?
He thought he was leveling up to emotional safety, and now Dracula’s interns were lurking in the woods?
“I’m going to check the perimeter,” Quinn said, heading toward the back door. “Try not to smell too delicious.”
He did not just say that.
Preston slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. What kind of world had he stumbled into?
One where monsters were real, where creatures from horror movies actually lurked in the shadows?
One where his mate—his wolf shifter mate—hunted vampires like it was just another Tuesday night?
“I need a goddamn drink,” Preston mumbled, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “A very large, very strong drink.”
He lost track of time, sitting there on the floor, trying to recalibrate his understanding of reality. Every sound made him flinch—a branch scraping against a window, the house settling, the distant howl that might have been the wind or might have been something much more alive.
Finally, the front door opened, and footsteps approached. Zeppelin appeared, his expression grim but relaxed as he crouched in front of Preston.
“All clear,” he said softly. “They’re gone.”
Preston looked up at him, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to know about vampires,” he said, his voice flat. “I don’t want to know about anything else that goes bump in the night. I’m still trying to wrap my head around you and your pack. I can’t... I can’t process any more right now.”
Lowering his eyes, he saw dirt under Zeppelin’s nails and blood on his boots. What in the hell happened out there? Did he really want to know? No, no he did not.
Understanding softened Zeppelin’s features. He nodded once then stood, holding out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs. You look dead on your feet.”
“Poor choice of words,” Preston muttered but took the offered hand, allowing Zeppelin to pull him up.
Zeppelin led him upstairs to the master suite, closing and locking the door behind them. The room felt like a sanctuary, warm and secure, far removed from the dangers lurking in the forest. Preston sank onto the edge of the bed, suddenly overwhelmed by fatigue.
“Tomorrow,” Zeppelin promised, kneeling to remove Preston’s shoes. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about all of it, but only if you want to. For tonight, just rest.”
Preston nodded, too tired to argue. As Zeppelin helped him undress and slip under the covers, he couldn’t help wondering what other secrets this new world held. But for now, with Zeppelin’s arms around him and the solid walls of the pack house keeping the night at bay, Preston allowed himself to drift toward sleep, clinging to the one certainty in his new reality. He was safe here, with his mate, in a way he’d never been before.
And that, at least, was worth all the vampires in the world.
Chapter Nine
Preston slowly opened his eyes to the darkness, momentarily frightened until he remembered where he was. In Zeppelin’s bed, his mate’s warm, solid body wrapped around him like a second skin. The steady rhythm of Zeppelin’s heartbeat pulsed against his back, strong and unwavering.
Memories from earlier flooded back—vampires, the pack, that incredible dinner—but all he could focus on was the heat radiating from his mate’s body and the arm draped possessively across his waist. A pleasant warmth pooled in his belly as Zeppelin’s breath tickled the nape of his neck.
