Page 44 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
He stops abruptly. “What?”
“Oh, I’ll probably make it to Turnville,” I say quickly, noting his sharp tone. “Even with my slow pace, we should get there before it kills me. But even though I’m eating meat now, the infection isn’t going away. It’s actually getting worse.”
I’ve seen the angry red streaks that have started climbing up my thigh and can feel the fever that never quite broke despite the protein in my system. But oddly, the thought doesn’t terrify me the way it should.
A grin suddenly spreads across my face. “If I do die, you can take my money. All of it. But you’ll also have to take Luna and look after her.”
Lucian stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I’ve never met anyone who’s so cheerful about dying.”
“You’ve never tasted freedom for the first time,” I counter, still grinning. “I don’t care if I die because it’ll be on my own terms now. And I know you’ll make sure nothing happens to my body.” The last part comes out sounding more trusting than I intended. But it’s true—I have complete faith that this man won’t let wild animals tear me apart if the worst happens.
Darkness flickers through his eyes, and his jaw tightens. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“You can’t control infection, Lucian. Even mercenaries have limits.”
“I said, nothing is going to happen to you.” His voice carries a note of authority that brooks no argument, as if he can command death itself to leave me alone.
Luna chooses this moment to leap from his shoulder to mine, apparently sensing friction. She nuzzles against my cheek with a soft meow.
“See? Even Luna knows I’m being realistic.” I scratch her head. “Besides, dying free is better than living as a slave. At least this way, I got to choose.”
The muscle in Lucian’s jaw twitches, and I realize my cavalier attitude toward my own mortality is genuinely bothering him. The thought that this near-stranger cares about my survival more than my own pack ever did sends a warm flutter through me.
“Stop talking about dying,” he says gruffly.
“Why? It’s a fact of life.”
“Because I don’t like it.”
The simple honesty in his voice catches me off guard. “Oh.”
We walk in silence after that, but I catch him glancing at my leg more frequently, his expression growing darker each time he notices my increasing limp.
It’s been a few days since I started traveling with Lucian, and while having his protection has been a blessing, my bodyis beginning to rebel against the constant movement. The fever that comes and goes makes everything feel slightly surreal, like I’m walking through a haze.
As night approaches, exhaustion sets in. I glance at our dwindling supplies, and my stomach growls. We finished the last of our meat this morning, and I can feel my body craving the protein it needs to fight the infection.
“We should stop here for the night,” I say, gesturing to a small clearing surrounded by thick trees. It looks defensible enough, and there’s a stream nearby for water.
Lucian nods, but his eyes are scanning the woods around us with that predatory alertness I’ve come to recognize. “Start the fire. I’ll be back.”
I bristle at the command. “Where are you going?”
“Hunting.” He’s already moving toward the tree line. “Stay put and try not to pick a fight with any wild animals while I’m gone.”
“I don’t pick fights with wild animals!” I call after him, but he has disappeared into the shadows. “They pick fights with me,” I mutter to myself.
The forest feels different without Lucian’s imposing presence. Smaller sounds seem amplified—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird, the crack of a twig somewhere in the darkness. I focus on building a fire, grateful for the familiar task, but my hands shake slightly as I arrange the kindling.
“Luna,” I whisper to my cat, who’s sitting attentively beside me, “do you think our stalker might be waiting for Lucian to leave?”
The thought has been nagging me for days. Someone was hunting for me, leaving those dead animals. What if they’re still out there, watching, waiting for the right moment?
Luna’s ears swivel toward the trees, and she makes a low, chittering sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Thanks, Luna. You’re making me feel really safe here.”
I manage to get the fire started, the flames casting dancing shadows that make every tree trunk look like a potential threat. I keep my knife within easy reach and try to ignore the way my heart jumps at every sound.
