Page 45 of The Librarian and Her Alphas

I want him, but I don’t at the same time.

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Today has beena busy day of running errands.

The last chore was grocery shopping, especially since I needed to stock up on essential items like toiletries and cleaning supplies. Now that I’m back home, I’m exhausted and looking forward to putting my feet up on the couch with a good book once everything has been put away.

I unlock my apartment door and push it open with my shoulder, propping it open with the doorstop as I bend down to grab a few grocery bags.

The bags are heavy, and I set them down in the hallway when I notice that the glass door leading to my balcony is open.

Confusion washes over me as I stare at it. I don’t remember ever opening the balcony door.

Suddenly, I feel on edge, wondering if Gunnar or any of his packmates are back for me. An eerie sensation takes over, and I glance down at the scar on my arm, nervously running a finger along the puckered skin. The scar tissue occasionally tingles, as if my skin remembers how I got it, but this feels different.

It feels more visceral as if reacting to the air around me. I try to shrug it off.

I step toward the front door again to retrieve the rest of my groceries when a bang in the kitchen stops me in my tracks. I freeze, wondering what the noise could be. My heart races when I hear more noise coming from the kitchen.

There’s someone here.

I turn toward the kitchen and tiptoe in that direction, trying to stay as quiet as possible. At the doorway, I peek inside and see a tall figure wearing a dark trench coat rifling through my pantry. His back is turned to me.

I can’t see his face, but something about him causes my heart rate to spike. Suddenly, I turn and run out the front door, leaving my groceries strewn across the floor.

I don’t care about anything except getting away. I fly down the stairs, my heart pumping and breaths coming fast in panic.

My only goal is to get as far away from the building as possible.

I hear someone running behind me, but I don’t look back as I wrench open the main entrance door and dash into the daylight. In my haste, I forget about the two stairs leading up to the door and trip over my feet, tumbling down them and landing in a heap at the bottom.

“Ow!” I cry out, feeling pain shoot up my ankle as I land awkwardly on it. Tears prick my eyes when I try to stand, but it hurts too much to do more than balance precariously. I know it’s twisted, but the joint is already starting to swell and turn red.

I slump down again, ready to call for help or crawl away from the building. But when I look up to do just that, I see Damon standing over me, his face a picture of concern.

“Damon?” I ask tearfully, wondering what he’s doing here.

“Lena, darling, what have you done to yourself?” he asks, reaching down to help me.

I wave him away and try to stand up again. I can’t let him help me. I don’t even want him here.

“It’s nothing,” I say, struggling to my feet. “I just slipped, but I’m fine.”

My ankle gives out from underneath me, but before I can hit the ground again, Damon catches me in his arms, the scent of him reminding me of that fateful night.

The strange alpha who carried me in the rain. The alpha who took me to the hospital that night.

“You’re not fine,” he points out. “That ankle looks twisted.”

“It’s probably just a sprain,” I say breathlessly as I watch him examine my ankle. Damon prods my ankle gently, and I hiss in pain.

“We should get you to a hospital. Right away.”

“Damon, I’m fine— Oh!” I squeak in surprise when he scoops me into his arms and carries me to his car parked across the street.

I look back at my apartment building one last time before he places me gently inside the car, but I don’t see the mysterious figure again.

My heart is still racing, but I feel calmer knowing Damon is with me. He rounds the front of the car, gets into the driver’s seat, and starts the engine.

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