Alpha On The Hunt Chapter 39

Axton POV

As I leave the packhouse, I immediately notice Eli. He is waiting downstairs on the front porch, his hands hidden in his pockets. As soon as he hears me step out of the building, his eyes snap to me, and an odd look crosses his face.

“Woo–woo, Alpha,” he pulls his hands out of his pockets, raises them, and takes a step back. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, which I’m sure is proof of what’s coming out of his mouth next. “I’m loving the purple. It really makes your eyes pop. And those cheekbones, man, you sure you’re not a model?” Eli snickers, staring at Elena’s unicorn pajamas I’m wearing. Yeah, I should’ve seen this coming.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. At this point, my jaw is so tight that if I don’t relax soon, I’ll sport the worst headache known in history.

I don’t want to leave. My entire being is screaming at me to turn around and go back inside the packhouse. All I really want to do is, close that massive door behind me and hide away, if only for a bit longer with Elena and the boys. But alas, Marco is already covering for me, and I don’t think he would appreciate me demanding more of him when his job is hard enough.

Eli nudges my side, so I look up at him. I expect another snide remark or a shit–eating grin, but instead, I meet a serious facial expression. “They’ll be fine. I will be here, and Marco is coming back. Derrick is in the cells. No one is getting near them,” he

assures me.

A loud, heavy breath leaves my lips as I glance at Marco. At that very moment, he nods in the direction of his car. “I’ll be heading

once I drop you off,” he assures me, and I

it’s not nearly close to the full power of destruction it holds above our heads. My eyes scan the area, and

up to release a monsoon. My mind is somewhat overtaken by nothing and everything at the

I give him

into the rain to run to the car. However, the speed and attempts to avoid the rain don’t help much in our case. In weather like this, no one could be fast enough to get untouched from

us are drenched the moment we step out from under the

backseat of his Mustang and retrieves a tank top. He tosses it at me, then removes his jacket and

I can at least try to take you seriously with those damn pants on,” Marco

statement and tug on the navy

drives down the long driveway toward

Allon into pages now

rain pelts the window

conditioning button. I raise

feel the cold. Just not nearly as much or often as a human would. However, Marco has no sense of what is considered hot or cold. He can’t tell the difference between temperatures as everything

in this car before me. Who was important enough to sit in this seat

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