Chapter 11

Rex

Feeling like I have the worst hangover in the world, I roll over onto my stomach and press my face into the crisp, cool sheets. My nose picks up a familiar, tantalising scent, and it all comes rushing back to me.

Leah. Me stumbling up the porch steps after my wolf refused to allow me to run home, or anywhere else. We had been out for hours, but no matter how far away I forced him to run, he fought and dragged me back here. To the bed-and-breakfast. To Leah’s front door.

I must have scared her half to death, turning up bloodied and on the brink of collapse. But she cared for me, cleaned me up and tucked me into her own bed, even after I left her at the packhouse with no explanation. I press a pillow to my face and roar in frustration. Nobody is supposed to see me like that, at my very weakest. Shame washes over me as I think about it. Me, the big bad alpha, weak as kitten and vulnerable.

What good am I can’t even look after myself, let alone anyone else?

Leah’s scent overwhelms