The alpha, the mate, and the werewolf

The alpha, the mate, and the werewolf: chapter 2

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  Stepping through the elegant white doorway, I looked around the living room. It was much larger than I had anticipated, with beautiful arches and paintings. Less intimidating, though. It was homey, for lack of a better word. The warm golds and reds and creams of the wallpaper worked wonderfully together, the high ceilings giving it a Victorian feel. But, more than all that, it just felt like I belonged. Like I was meant to be there, like everything I've faced during my life was just meant to lead me here. Basically, I loved it.

  Mason stood there, shocked. Apparently he wasn't expecting what he saw or felt either. He dropped my hand, blinked twice, and recomposed himself, shifting around softly. The man at the door coughed loudly, probably for the sole purpose of making us jump. I scowled. 

  "You just ruined a magical moment," I whined.

  "I'm so very sorry, but the alpha is expecting you," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I have some work to do. Just go to the very top floor and he's in the big wooden door, you can't miss it unless you're incredibly unobservant." The smile that was he gave to us was more of a baring of his teeth.

  "You're not the alpha?" I questioned. This man radiated power and pride. If he wasn't the alpha, who was he?

  "I'm the beta, Michael Johnson. Beta Johnson to you," Michael said, chest puffing up in pride."Now, I must go. Good day." He strided away, every step oozing with dignity. I snorted.

  "Yeah, you too, Michael!" I called after him, while Mason shook with canned laughter. Michael snapped his head back, a scowl on his face. He must have decided that I wasn't worth it, but instead turned his full beta gaze on me. The force in the back of my mind shocked me. I wanted to look down. I was supposed to want to look down. But my pride wouldn't allow it. Even after Michael had turned and disappeared into a room, I stared after him. 

  "That was so weird," I whispered to Mason. He smiled.

  "Stubborn little child."

   Scowling, I gestured to the stair way. "Shall we?"

  He smiled chivalrously, hooking our arms together. "We shall." 

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  By the 4th floor, talking was impossible. "Do these guys have steroids for breakfast or something? How the hell do you walk up all these stairs without dying at least twice?" I stuttered.

  Mason rolled his eyes. "You're just incredibly unfit, Vira. You should work out like me," he said flexing his muscles. 

  Suddenly, a smell hit me. I gasped and clutched my stomach. It smelled...wonderful. Amazing. It was manly and spicy and sweet and probably the most amazing perfume in the world. But was that what bothered me? No. The thing that made me uncomfortable was the fact that I was getting aroused. My body was on high alert. Everything tingled. Mason looked over at me, worried and confused.

  "Alvira!? What the hell is wrong, are you o-oh. Heat," he chuckled. His chuckle had an edge to it, though. Even though we aren't romantically involved, the smell of a female in heat automatically triggers the wolf inside any male, plus I was aroused, making it worse. Sarah used to call heat the 'f*ck button.' 

  "Shut up," I groaned. Sometimes, being a girl sucks. Especially when a smell turns you on. Still, it was an incredibly sexy smell.

  "Was my muscle flexing too hot for your instinctual mind?" Mason teased, laughing. I blushed bright red red. He laughed even harder. "You, you, you, you- YOU LOOK LIKE TIM!" he roared, holding onto the railing for support. I waited for him to finish, speaking up when he finally stopped and was gasping for breath.