Page 35 of Step Alpha

“I said no tears, Runt.” There’s intensity in my whisper. Threat. Danger.

She blinks rapidly, like she’s trying to obey me, so I release her and tip my head toward the bakery.

“Come on. Let’s go get you a cake.”

More tears fall down her cheeks as we walk, but I ignore them, and she quickly brushes them away. When we get to the bakery counter, I drop my hand on her nape, squeezing and releasing. Massaging out the tight knot of muscles at the base of her neck.

“What kind do you want?”

She sniffs. “Oreo.”

I lift my chin at the bakery attendant, and she comes over. She’s a pack member. No one important. I forget her name. “Wilde Woodward. I thought you were at Duke.” Yeah, right. As if she hasn’t already heard what happened.

“Not at the moment.” It’s the best answer I can come up with. I know I’m going to need a better answer because everyone in this town and pack are going to try to find out what my deal is. I point to the Oreo cake in the case. “I need that cake. It’s Rayne’s birthday.”

The attendant looks at Rayne as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh right. Your new stepsister.” She says it like it’s a joke. Like she’s commiserating with me. I want to take every cake in that cabinet and smash them into her smug face.

I don’t take my hand from Rayne’s neck, squeezing again. Her scent fills my nostrils. Sends a jolt of relief through my system after enduring the salt of her tears.

I guess I haven’t been around that many females crying before. I know male wolves are strongly affected by a female’s tears, but I thought it was just their mate’s. I guess it’s any female’s.

It makes sense, evolutionarily. A built-in protection for she-wolves when a male gets too rough. The scent will either trigger his protective instinct to solve whatever her problem is or a calming reflex to drop his aggression level.

The bakery attendant pulls out the cake and starts to box it up.

“Aren’t you going to write on it?”

The bitchy attendant glances at Rayne again, like she’s not worth the bother. “Oh. I didn’t know you wanted that.”

“Yeah. It’s her birthday.” I’m starting to fume again.

“So…Happy Birthday, Rayne?” She wrinkles her nose like it’s a distasteful thing to write.

“Now, please.” I must accidentally put a little alpha command in my voice because she draws back, and her eyes widen, then she scurries to comply.

The whole time I stand there with my hand on Rayne’s nape.

Seriously. She’s my little sister now. If anyone in this town thinks they can belittle or fuck with her, I will be taking names and delivering ass-kickings.

I ignore the fact that my feelings aren’t all brotherly.

They certainly weren’t when I spanked her ass this afternoon.

Not when I felt that hot core clenching under my fingertips.

But I don’t even know what to think about that. I’m not going to think about it because I can’t find anywhere to jam it in my mind that fits.

We get the cake, and I pay for it with the few dollars of cash I have in my wallet. It’s dark already when we get out to the Jeep.

“Will you drive? I don’t feel comfortable driving at night.”

I know I should just make her do it. If she’s going to get her license tomorrow, she needs to be able to drive at night.

But I must be feeling guilty over making her cry because I take the keys from her hand, push the seat back, and slide behind the wheel. Her scent is all over the seat and steering wheel, and I draw it in through my nostrils as she walks around the Jeep to get in on the passenger side.

My dick swells against my zipper. Fates, what brought that on? Her scent?

The moment I open the door to that thought, the memory of spanking her comes back. I want to do it again.

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