An Alpha's Jealousy (Narry Storan) (Book One)

Chapter Two

"Ry!"

A female voice, gentle yet stricken with concern, loudly cries out my name; the sudden unexpected noise instantly sparks life inside my graveyard mind.

"Arry!"

Mom? Is that you?

Through the haze that circles and settles over the pink muscle inside my skull, I silently guess the identity of the person calling out my name.

"Harry!"

My stiff body suddenly jerks up as my name is screamed-which has the discomfort that was rapidly consuming my body turn into an ear ringing agony-in my ear, glossy and bloodshot green eyes flying open as a flare of pain races across the top of my forehead after colliding with another's forehead.

"O    Ow!" A tormented whine escapes my cracked lips as transparent, clammy hands fly to protect the wounded area while tears suddenly pool in the emerald sea that was my eyes.

"Oh, my poor baby!" Anne Cox, my mum, screeches-that loud voice didn't help either as it only added to the anguish my ears were feeling at that moment-before pulling me into a tight embrace, hands flying over my head to soothe and inspect me for any injuries.

As soon as I was in her arms-which were just as transparent and clammy as mine, I notice- the raindrops that pooled in my emerald orbs and the pain that devoured my kink filled body vanishes in an instant.

Inhaling a deep breath, my senses are immediately overloaded with numerous unknown scents: a soft floral aroma that seemed particular strong around my mum; the pungent scent of water and salt that lazily storms the air in no specific direction; and a thick, musky scent-a smell I couldn't decipher or place-that was shifting and pacing outside my room.

About to shrug off the heightened sense of smell, my nostrils flare quickly when I catch a whiff of the same musky scent-one that seemed nearer and more dominant than what I had previously made it to be-that, as soon as it reaches my nose, had me whimpering and cowering in my mum's arms.

It was bewildering, to say the least, when the sudden need to flop on my back and expose my neck and stomach surges up within me.

The scorching need was so strong that I actually started to do exactly what my instincts screams to do.

However, before I can complete my flopping instinct, I'm stopped by my mum's voice who quickly soothes my fearful whimpers with placating touches and hugs while hissing towards the wooden door-my bedroom door, I suddenly realize, only different: instead of just wood, I notice all the cracks lining it's aged frame along with spots that were darker than other places-in a voice that resonates in my ears:

"I told you to stay back, Robin! Don't make me come out there because I swear to god I will-"

"Okay, okay!" A male voice-my half lucid mind recognizes the voice belonging to my step-father, a man I consider a father in all but blood, yet something inside me recognizes it as an alpha, a term I never associated with Robin before-snaps in return.