Page 32 of My Grumpy Alpha

How cliché.

How ironic.

Did someone send her to end me?

Does someone else know what I am?

She moves toward me in a near drugged state, and that’s when I see the reflection of my eyes in hers.

A bright blue.

All because I tasted her, and she touched a fang.

“What, what was that?” Her voice is low, seductive, like a song.

Her head lolls forward.

Great. I made her pass out.

I catch her and lay her gently on the ground, then grab my cell and bolt from the office, passing Gabe on the way.

“Take care of it.”

“Be more specific with theityou’re talking about.” He pauses at the open door to my office.

“Her,” I rasp.

“Take care of her. Fire her. I don’t care. I need to get away, I can’t breathe when she’s around. I’m not sane. Just take care of it.”

“What did you do?” he asks calmly, but I see his eyes start to swirl dark.

I look away.

“Just fix it.”

I walk away and I don’t look back.

I don’t even remember taking my car to my apartment; I don’t think I can actually make it to my huge house, so the penthouse it is.

I walk in and walk over to the window. I stare at the moon and how it looks bloodier and bloodier, and how I have one more day before immense pain strikes again.

Physical pain.

Mental.

The full moon tries to wreck every cell in my body every time. I need an anchor, I always have.

But I’ve never found her, never even hinted at finding her until now. How ironic, it’s someone who doesn’t even know who she is, what she is.

Ad agency my ass.

Someone’s out to bring me down and I have no clue who it could possibly be, I stay in my lane, I’m no threat.

And yet, out of all the people they could have sent, they sent her. To me. Knowing my control would be weak.

Fuck, what’s it going to be like when the full moon strikes?

I’ll be screaming in my own home, bones breaking over and over again, like a thousand hits of lightning infused daggersgetting shoved into every single bone, only for it to keep happening until the full moon ends.