Page 49 of Auctioned to the Alpha

“Look at me.”

I finally do.

His eyes lock onto mine instantly, steady and sharp and completely controlled.

“Breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“Not right.”

I hate that he’s correct.

Outside, footsteps drag through the snow again.

Closer.

My fingers tighten around the blanket automatically. “What if he gets inside?”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

The certainty in his voice cuts straight through the panic spiraling inside me.

Not because I fully believe him.

Because he believes himself.

Completely.

“How?” I ask quietly.

His jaw tightens slightly. “Because he’d have to get through me first.”

The words hit with enough force to steal my breath for a second.

God.

The storm outside intensifies, wind slamming hard against the cabin walls while shadows move across the windows from the trees swaying outside.

Or maybe not just the trees.

I can’t tell anymore.

Rhett stands slowly and walks toward the fireplace, setting the rifle within reach before crouching to stir the dying embers back to life. Orange light flickers across the room gradually, throwing sharp shadows over the rough planes of his face.

“You should’ve stayed in Seattle,” he mutters.

I blink. “What?”

His gaze lifts briefly to mine. “Safer there.”

Something about that irritates me enough to cut through the fear.

“You say that like I intentionally signed up for a stalker.”