In the Alpha’s Arms

Sense of Touch

The body that wasn’t hers, eyed their surroundings for other people in the lobby and for more possible threats. Lita was a wolf. The thought had barely registered in the forefront of her mind. It certainly didn’t make sense and that was probably the brunt of her difficulty. There was a zero percent chance that she was a wolf.

And yet she was a werewolf. She couldn’t be a wolf. She was a human. It was a lifetime of living one way, only to find out it had all been a lie. But what else was new? Her wolf was irritated, pacing the room impatiently. They didn’t speak to each other, not directly, but they understood each other nonetheless. Not quite as clear as reading each other’s mind but more like reading intentions. Reading between the lines of each other’s emotions. A shared connection that just sort of translated things for them.

Lita’s wolf was exhausted. That much was clear through the connection. The first shift was apparently the worst shift for them too. Her senses were in overdrive though, looking everywhere for some threat. But there was no one around. Lita had passed out at some point after the initial shift, her consciousness slipping off into the back burner of her wolfy body and that gave her a small rest. Her wolf, however, had been in a fight. A life and death situation. Lita had only seen a split second of Erica before giving in to the darkness.

Apparently while she was passed out, the whole lobby had cleared, Erica too, and the only consolation she had was that this was a wolf establishment. There was no risk of exposing anything to anyone.

Why did she even give a shit about the optics of the situation? This was the single most insane thing that had ever happened to her and somehow she was more worried about protecting the wolf–world’s image, than herself. Technically it was her own image now. Because she was a wolf. She was a fucking werewolf. Her wolf blew air from its nose. Obviously her obsessive thoughts were annoying her animal side.

It was then that she realized they were standing in something slippery and thick. Blood. Her paws moved in and out of it like wet paint, trailing it around the room. Lita panicked, seeing that there was blood everywhere and no sign of Erica. Erica. Erica? Her mind was blank. No matter how hard she tried to remember, she couldn’t recall what happened. A fight. Danger. Then what? Blood? But no body?

Her wolf bristled. But Lita refused to accept that answer. There was a lot she could accept, but that wasn’t one of them. Her wolf was wrong. Or she’d misunderstood the meaning. Either way Erica wasn’t dead. She hadn’t killed anyone. Lita blocked that part out until she could talk to someone else, someone who could help her make everything logical again.

Lita’s wolf agreed. Then she watched from the background as her wolf took the lead, nudging the emergency exit door open with her muzzle and heading back down the stairs. There was no sense of how much time had passed since they ran. They reached the bottom landing in a few short strides, regardless of how exhausted the wolf was. She was strong as hell, regal and capable. Her bounds made easy work of the same steps that had nearly killed Lita. She pushed the door to the basement open.

casting eerie glows over the people. Guards. Naked people who had once been wolves. Her pack was mixed in with the sights and smells which were all too

eyes. Her ears twitching to distinguish his sound. Every part of her wolf was searching for him because

awake and aware. The voices seemed to grow louder, the movements grew more frantic around them as others took note of the

now!” Voices surrounded her. Familiar but not the one

hurt?! There’s so much

trail.” Still the only voice she wanted to hear wasn’t among

compelling, “Lita? Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Cole’s words

and waking. How wonderful would it be to live there? Calm, painless and without thought. Did she want to go back to the room of faces?

“Please it’s time to wake up.” A nose in her neck, breathing hard. The warm breath a

Sense of Touch

familiar weight and callouses of the man she loved. Loved. It was there like a giant weight on

insecurity Lita had been harboring in her soul. Every pain seemed dulled against the aching power of loving her mate. Til death do they part. For–fucking–ever and a day past that. Even if she didn’t really know him. Even if she wasn’t sure he

if the world was ending around them, the love would stay. Ironclad and unwavering. The feelings resonated deeper than anything she’d ever felt. Before her shift, she felt something unique, maybe even strong. But now? It was

twice against her forehead. Shivers under her skin that traced the contact. A scent so deep and penetrating that she could scarcely breath it. Yet it was the only air she wanted. To live and die breathing in his scent as oxygen until the very act of breathing was long gone. Her eyes tensed, clenching and softening as she tried to pull the lids apart. They were stubborn. Glued into position like she’d slept for days. It couldn’t have been that

an ear over her chest, fingers threading through her hair. Each touch sent a need burning and buzzing