Page 4 of The Librarian and Her Alphas

“Shit,” I mutter, frantically slathering my scent blocker lotion all over my body. I’m late for work, and it’s my turn to read to the kids at the library today.

I tug on a soft blue dress with one hand while rubbing lotion into the back of my knee with the other. The fabric sticks slightly from the leftover residue, but there’s not much time to care. I have to make sure my scent stays hidden from the humans I work with because I’m not prepared to answer a bunch of questions, which would probably end up with me being poked and prodded at a lab.

This morning I overslept, having woken up from a nightmare at three a.m. The nightmare was so vivid, and I woke up in tears, believing Zorin was still beating me in the rain.

As I run my fingers along the large scar on my left arm, memories come flooding back—the night Zorin and his pack attacked me, leaving me broken and bleeding.

Four years later, I’m here, living in hiding, passing off as a human, but the pain still lingers.

Turning my gaze to the picture frame on my dresser, I see the smiling faces of my sisters, Carmen and Francine. The photo was taken at a friend’s barbecue, our laughter and goofy antics frozen in time. The glass is shattered, a stark reminder of the distance between us now. I miss them, but I know it’s too dangerous to follow them to Howl’s Edge Island, where Zorin might have moved to.

I wish they could be here with me so I’m not alone.

My mother, on the other hand, is a different story. She was never particularly kind to us girls growing up, and her harsh words and cold demeanor left me feeling unwanted and unworthy. Maybe it was one of the reasons I stuck with Zorin’s pack for so long, waiting for love or any sign of affection.

“Focus, Lena,” I tell myself, pushing the memories away. “Today is going to be a great day at work.”

* * *

Later that day,I’m in the library and take a deep breath as I open the worn copy ofRed Riding Hood. Even though I was a little late, my co-workers were able to

The children sit cross-legged on the colorful rug, their eyes wide with anticipation.

“Once upon a time,” I begin, my voice chirpy and filled with enthusiasm, “there was a little girl named Little Red Riding Hood who lived in a village near the forest.”

The children listen intently as I read the tale of the little girl and her journey through the woods.

“Miss Lena,” a small boy with thick glasses interrupts, raising his hand. “If the wolf is so big and bad, why doesn’t he just eat everyone in the village?”

Giggles erupt from the other children, and I can’t help but smile at the innocence of his question.

“Well, you see,” I explain gently, “the wolf isn’t interested in eating everyone. He’s just trying to survive like anyone else. And besides, it would be a very short story if he did that, don’t you think?”

The children nod in agreement, and I continue the story until its thrilling conclusion.

As I close the book, Paige, my co-worker, guides the children toward the shelves where they can choose their own books to take home. She’s petite, with a pixie-like face framed by dark curls, her green eyes always sparkling with energy, but her energy reminds me of my sister Francine.

“Great job today, Lena,” she whispers with a smile before returning to the eager young readers.

“Thanks,” I say, smiling as I watch the children fighting over a book on the shelves. “Good luck.”

“I could use some of that,” Paige sighs, but she quickly inserts herself into the argument between the children. “Shh, don’t cry! I have more of those books in the back.”

Carrying the now-closed book in my hands, I head to where it belongs, not wanting to pile it up with the other books in the containers we didn’t get around to organizing.

I quickly slide the book back into its place so I could help Paige out.

“Your reading was quite captivating,” a deep male voice says from behind me, and alarm goes through me, knowing immediately that he isn’t human.

My chest tightens as I whirl around to face the unexpected voice.

He’s an alpha right here in my library, and it doesn’t help that he’s breathtaking. His steel-gray eyes are intense beneath dark blonde hair that falls effortlessly across his forehead, framing a chiseled jawline that could cut glass.

“Uhm... are you a father with a child here?” I stammer, trying to maintain my composure as my heart races. This is the fucking last place I ever thought I would see a wolf like myself. Alphas were much bigger than omegas and usually came in packs, with an omega as their mate to share between them.

“No,” he replies, his voice smooth and rich like melted chocolate. “I was looking for a book on military tactics. Your voice caught my attention, and I had to stop and listen. The sound of your voice is very…captivating.”

“Thank you,” I say, forcing a smile despite the unease curling in my stomach. I can’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. My scent blockers should be working, but being this close to an alpha has me on edge.

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