Page 7 of My Grumpy Alpha

Ever.

I’ve been alive longer than I’d care to ever admit out loud and in all those years all I’ve ever managed to accomplish is making money and knowing that at the end of the day, I’m going to die a virgin because, spoiler alert, I’m not totally human, I’m half.

I’m the weird one people abandoned because I didn’t have true werewolf blood flowing through my veins. Oh God, I’m like the half-blood prince.

I slam my hands against the top of my desk, papers go flying, a pencil nearly wedges itself in my thigh and I feel nothing, because damn, that woman's smell was something.

But I know it’s going to pass, it always does. They smell good, all humans smell fucking good, but the point is, acting on it is only going to lead to disappointment and more betrayal and abandonment, so I’ll dig my giant hands into this desk, I’ll sit and have a sandwich.

That sounds tame, right?

And then I’ll drink some water, cool off… I will absolutely not chase after her like a monster and bite.

Don’t bite.

Do. Not. Bite.

Bite.

Bite.

Bite hard.

Bite deep.

Tear into flesh and claim.

“Son of a bitch.” I will not throw another desk through the window! I take a few calming breaths and inhale through my mouth, which just makes it worse because I didn’t think ahead and now I can taste her.

Chocolate?

Cinnamon?

And something else. I keep sniffing.

“Should I just…” Gabe interrupts.

“Leave you to your sniffing the air or do you need water or something? I have liquid IV, don’t worry.”

“I’ll kill you,” I whisper.

“Please don’t; I’m very pretty. I don’t like death and blood just sets me off the way her scent sends you into a series of panic attacks, and how is therapy? Just curious.”

I punch my hand through the desk splintering the wood on both sides.

“That was literally a ten-thousand-dollar desk.” He shakes his head.

“And you’ve gone through two in the last year. I truly worry for your therapists sometimes.”

“They”—I feel my fangs growing in my mouth—“should worry about me!”

I’m ready to go full roar when he walks over, hands me a bottle of water, Advil, and pats me on the back.

“You’re just dealing with a lot of emotion, anyone would feel that way if they were horny.”

“I’m not horny!” I yell.

“You are. You definitely are. It’s a full moon soon so you’re just… not doing as well as normal, which is totally fine, things are good… great even! The company’s great. Your new secretary is across the street grabbing Subway. What more could you want?”