Page 8 of Big Bad Alphas

“What does that mean for the other two? Are you all just going to keep fighting?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer, then snaps it shut. It seems that none of us have an answer for that. This is all so new that none of us know how to navigate this situation.

She shakes her head and then slams the door in our faces before any of us can react and try to stop her.

Well, shit.

CHAPTERFIVE

EMILY

I’ve been lying awake for a few hours, staring at the ceiling and replaying everything that has happened today.

I still can’t wrap my head around it. I mean, I went from wishing for someone to be with, someone that would love me and care for me, to having three big, handsome men telling me that they’refatedto be with me.

Oh, and they’re wolf shifters, which is apparently a thing. And these wolf shifters happen to be the freaking Alphas of their packs.

I groan, rolling onto my side before pulling the blankets over my head.

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from outside of my window. I shriek, sitting up in bed and turning to look outside. Three giant silhouettes are parked outside my bedroom window, and I roll my eyes. This is ridiculous.

“Go away!” I shout at them.

“Are you okay?” another one, Patrick, I think, asks.

“I’m fine! This is totally unnecessary and unwanted. Go away.” Even as I say the words, something deep in my chest lurches painfully, and I have to rub the heel of my hand over my heart to ease the ache there.

“We need to watch over you.”

The determination in Patrick’s voice makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, despite my best efforts. I’ve been on my own for a while now, and I won’t lie; having three men to protect me and stay with me might not be the worst fate.

I can’t just admit that, however. I still have a million questions, and the men outside my window still haven’t figured out what our relationship would look like.

“I’m fine,” I tell them, though my voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. “I’m in my locked house.”

“We’re just watching over you,” one of them says.

“In case something happens. Like a kitchen fire. Or a fallen tree.”

“Or any sketchy characters who might frighten you,” Patrick adds.

“Oh, yes, please tell me if you find any sketchy characters,” I say sarcastically. “You know, I actually had a run-in with three sketchy people earlier. They started a fight in my front yard and then growled at me about fated mates.”

Someone bites back a laugh, and I smirk, satisfied on some level that I made my mate smile.

Shoot. Mate?

I guess that’s a technically accurate term, though I’m still not sure what all that means.

Shaking my head, I watch the silhouettes of the mysterious men dip out of view, but I know they’re still out there. I hardly know Patrick, Wade, or Ezra, but I can already tell they aren’t the type to give up so easily.

The thing is, I don’t think I want them to.

Don’t get me wrong; this whole thing is a mess. A mess wrapped up in confusion, dipped in complications, and set on fire. But part of me… likes being the center of their universe.

I can’t have fighting in my life, though. It triggers all of my anxiety to the point of panic attacks. There are some TV shows I had to stop watching because the main couple started fighting and shouting at each other.

Even if yelling and physical fighting aren’t involved, I hate confrontation in general.

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