Page 67 of Alpha Wild

Cedara

It’s nice to wake up without feeling the overwhelming urge to be moving about before sunrise. I guess that will happen after hours of physical exertion.

I smile. Barrett is beside me, and his body is warm and solid against mine. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I love the fact that I’m waking up beside him.

Although…

I don’t remember falling asleep…and I don’t remember much else, either.

We made love. I know that much. But the rest is a blur.

That’s odd.

I strain to recall what happened yesterday. My family came around. There was conversation, I think. But the details are hazy.

My fingertips have found their way to my throat, where the mate bite tingles beneath them. It’s healed already.

Already?

I trace it more carefully. The skin is unbroken, a scar already formed. The mark I will carry for the rest of my life. That should make me smile, but something feels…wrong.

My brow furrows as I stare out of the window into the morning sky. The curtains are open, and gray clouds hang overhead. But it had been clear last night, hadn’t it?

Stretching my limbs, I find myself groaning.

God, I’m sore.

It feels like I’ve run a marathon. Sure, the sex was good, but this seems like too much. Pushing myself up onto my palm, I brush my hair from my face… And suck in a sharp gasp.

The sheets around me are streaked with crimson.

What…?!

I shove them away as if they’re contaminated, only to see more red coating my own skin.

“Oh, my God!” The sound of my voice shatters the silence.

“Cedara?”

I scramble to pull the sheets back over me, clutching them up to my chest. Barrett is half-sitting, staring at me with a look of pure horror.

“Barrett?” There’s a plea in my voice. “Barrett, what’s going on?”

If he’d been asleep before, he’s wide awake now. “Fuck,” he says, rising onto his knees and reaching for me. I shrink away.

“What is this? What happened to me?” Even as I ask the question, answers are coming to me.

This is blood.

And it’s not mine.

A quick glance at my mate confirms that it’s not his, either.

Oh, thank God!

He still looks horrified. Or is that revulsion?

Please, no! Please!