My Female Alpha

THIRTEEN

"Hot date?" he asks.

"Going to check on Emery. I need to clear my head."

"Didn't go well with Alpha Tara?"

I pause to grip his shoulder. "About as well as to be expected. Now, do you mind if I borrow the Bonneville?"

He shrugs. "Do what you must. Woo your human." Rolling his eyes, he shoos me with his hands. "You know where the key is."

"Thanks!" I head to the garage, find the lone bike key and roll the Bonneville outside.

She revs on the first go like a dream. God, do I love bikes.

I nod at the Jeep while zipping passed our makeshift parking lot and down the gravel driveway.

The bike purrs between my legs. Vibrations rattle through my arms and down to my pelvis. I lean into the frame, accelerating.

As I enter the town, a few passersby glance suspiciously my way. I slow to let a family cross the street and nod when they openly stare at me.

Smirking, I waggle my fingers at them. They all look away and hurry on. I roll my eyes.

Humans are always either intrigued or intimidated by me. I guess I give off a vibe they aren't used to.

While the unwanted attention in public is annoying, I can't help but feel some degree of satisfaction in knowing I exude power even in their realm. At the end of the day, I am a predator after all.

I pull into the diner parking lot and kill the ignition. My limbs ache with the need to wrap Emery up around me. She's killing me and doesn't even know it.

A different hostess is working today. She doesn't gawk at me, so I assume she doesn't know who I am.

"How many?" she asks, eyes briefly flicking up from her irritated nail beds. She picks them nervously.

"Uh, I'm not here to eat." My gaze darts around the diner but my mate is nowhere to be seen. I don't smell or hear her either. "Is Emery working today?"

"Who's asking?" She looks at me fully now. Though clearly suspicious, this high school doesn't seem like she'd give a damn about anyone else.

"A friend. Is she here?"

The girl looks away before shaking her head. "She doesn't work today."

Without another word, I leave. I really need to get her schedule. And her phone number.

How the fuck haven't I gotten her number?

My hackles internally rise in frustration with myself. I need to be able to reach her always—now more than ever with the rogues approaching.

The Bonneville rips to life and I speed out of the parking lot and across town. Her apartment complex isn't a far drive but my heart throbs in my throat the whole way.

Once I'm there, I park and follow her peachy scent up to one of the doors. My knuckles sound impatient on the metal surface.

"Coming!" her voice sounds from deep inside.

The door swings in. My mouth is open, prepared to speak, but I can't help but drink in the sight of her.

Emery is dressed in an oversized band tee sloppily tucked into the waistband of frilly pink shorts that barely cover the tops of her plush thighs. Her breasts are loose and I roll my lips when I notice two hard ridges trapped under the cotton material.