My Fated Alpha
He was gone, but the indent in the pillow beside me was still warm.
I padded barefoot down the hall, following low voices and the smell of coffee.
Victor stood at the kitchen island with three other guys, big, all of them, maps and laptops spread out in front of them. They went quiet the second I appeared in the doorway wearing one of Victor’s T-shirts that hung to my knees.
He turned, eyes softening. “Hey. You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Couldn’t.” I hugged myself. “What’s going on?”
One of the guys, a redhead with a scar across his eyebrow, gave me a small nod. “Beta Jax,” he introduced himself. “We’re just making sure Damien doesn’t get any stupid ideas tonight.”