Alpha Rising

Chapter 3

I sat beside him in the escalade rubbing my wrists absently. It felt like something out of an airport bookstore novel. I could see the swooning heroine on the cover already, barely there bodice and all. I scowled to myself, I wasn't much for frilly dresses anyway.

After our strange showdown at the edge of the territory, things had moved quickly. Tommy had moved to put us both in a car and directed the driver to take us to the packhouse. I had tried to ask questions about where we were going or what we would do but I figured I'd rather not ask too many questions of the man who was saving me from getting whipped.

Now, Tommy had sat himself next to me with a tablet and a furrow in his brows. I had tried to sneakily lean over to cop a look at his screen and he immediately angled the view away from me with a flat stare back to me at my antics.

I would've thought we would sit on other sides of the car after that but it seemed like we both enjoyed the comfort of being close. His body radiated a warmth that I missed, the press of his figure a welcome weight to me. It had taken me a year to remember how to fall asleep without Tommy right next to me. I still never slept well without him.

I kept sneaking glances at him, playing little tests on my memory of how Tommy had looked. Dark curls that he swept back absently? Check. Absurdly long lashes fluttering as he thought deeply? Yep. He even had that barely there stubble. I was doomed.

I focused on my breath, trying to rein myself in. He probably found someone else, I scolded myself, time to let it go. Fuck it, I would just ask.

"So," I cleared my throat a little, "How have you been?"

Tommy looked up from his tablet to level a look at me.

"How do you think I've been?" He returned quickly.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He was still that same stubborn ass. The affection welled up inside me anyway, I missed being annoyed like this.

"Terrible," I admitted, pausing to see his reaction.

When he didn't immediately respond, in a lower voice I admitted, "I thought you were dead. I left to find help."

I paused to swallow thickly, "I'm glad you're well"

He gave me a small smile, "Same here."

Our gaze met and something just snapped inside me. I unbuckled my seatbelt, safety be damned. I flew across the seat into him, and without a beat he caught me in his arms. I I inhaled that same familiar scent of his and fought against the tears that swam in my eyes. I rested my head on his neck and counted the beat of his pulse against my skin, a steady pattern giving me comfort.

Gently I brushed my fingers against the soft fuzz on the back of his neck. Time for a haircut, I thought offhandedly. That thought was like a shock to my brain. This wasn't normal, it was giving me emotional whiplash.

I pulled back from him, still holding him in my outstretched arms and felt a wave of fury wash over me as everything began hitting me.

I immediately turned to him to give him a piece of my mind.

What came out instead was slow and measured, a feat coming from me, "Why didn't you tell me about your—" I paused looking for the right phrase, "condition," I ended lamely.

I thought I would yell or scream. I wanted to but I couldn't. My love for him was still there, embarrassing and pathetic in my chest like molten lava.

Up close I could see the faint flecks of gold in his eyes as he rolled them to the heavens.

"God Sophie, it's not a disease," He scolded me gently, "It's what I happen to be."

I was stuck wavering between laughing loudly and trying to form an argument, "Yes," I paused, "But still. Why wouldn't you tell me?" I was proud of myself for how my voice stayed steady even as my hands on his shoulders twitched with discomfort.