Luna on The Run I Stole the Alphas Son

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

drop you off,” he assures me, and I press my lips in a line, looking

close to the full power of destruction it holds above our heads. My eyes scan the area, and soon, I notice that most of my men are stationed under the porches of the woman’s houses. They’re standing just inside the open barn doors, out of the

up to release a monsoon. My mind is somewhat overtaken by nothing and everything at the same time until I’m snapped back to reality by

and I give

the rain to run to the car. However, the speed and attempts to avoid the rain don’t help much in our

are drenched the moment we step out from

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

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

on the navy blue tank while Marco

the long driveway toward the

Allon into pages now

The wind howls outside the car, and the rain pelts the window as Marco tries to navigate the windy road back to the

asks me, reaching for the air conditioning button. I raise an eyebrow at him.

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

very fact makes me wonder who he has had in this car before me. Who was important enough to sit in this seat and, most importantly,