Alpha’s Strength(12)

“I’m going to have to try the pizza.”

Jenson nodded, but failed to mask his surprise. “My Alpha, you eat pizza?”

Cyrus didn’t have time for this. “Not usually.” He glanced at his mate, who still stared wide-eyed at his tall wolves. Jensen had at least three inches on Cyrus. Not that it mattered. He could best the other man anytime he wanted, and Jensen personified loyalty. “I usually prefer meat, chicken. That kind of thing.”

“Does it matter what you eat? I mean when you’re in your human form, can you eat anything or do you always have to eat like a wolf?” Betsy’s attention returned to him.

That’s better.

“She knows?” Mitchell interrupted before Cyrus could respond to her question. “How did that happen?”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t look familiar to either of you?”

“She resembles Travis’ mate a great deal, but her smell is different.” Jensen shrugged.

“Your sense of smell is better than mine. I thought she was Lilliana initially.” Cyrus walked to her and placed his hand on her cheek. “But now I know better. She’s my mate, gentlemen. And, to answer your question, Betsy, we can eat whatever we want when we’re not in our werewolf forms. Our metabolisms are faster.”

“I see.” He really didn’t think she did. Betsy’s respiration was high; her pupils were dilated. She might even be going into shock. “I haven’t really agreed to be your mate. Don’t you think that’s kind of, I don’t know, presumptuous? Oh, hell in a hand basket, none of this makes any sense. I feel like an egg that just got cracked and stuck in a blender. Yep. That’s how I feel.”

She said the cutest things. “You don’t have to agree to be my mate. You are she. We’ll work this out. Don’t worry.”

Mitchell and Jensen both walked inside. They nodded to him, and after a nod from each of them, he stepped back. Mitchell grabbed Betsy. She gasped before his pack mate pulled her into a hug. She stood stiff for a second and then finally hugged the other man back. It should bother him that other males were touching her, would make him nuts if they weren’t pack. But they were all going to want to hug her. That was their way of welcoming her into the family.

Mitchell let go and Jensen pulled her into an embrace. She hugged him quicker this time, and Jensen stepped back.

“Well. Okay.” Betsy rubbed her forehead. “This is really such a strange day.”

“Is she latent like Lilliana was?”

“Yes.”

Betsy stomped her foot, her fiery spirit reasserting itself. “Okay. Enough. All of you get out. I’m not latent or a werewolf or pack or whatever. I’m me. Normal human me. And you’re all leaving.”

Cyrus shook his head. Human women really did think they had a choice in these things. His own female pack mates would have known he understood the best thing to be done and not argue about their own safety.

“Actually, princess, there’s going to be lot more of our pack arriving shortly. However, Jensen and Mitchell do need to go.”

“Sir?” Jensen raised his eyebrows.

“Use that incredible nose of yours and sniff around the apartment. Pick up the scent of the human who lives here. His name is Nathan. He is a threat to my mate, but we need, for now, to keep him alive. Get him. Bring him to the office.” He stroked the back of Betsy’s hair. It was so soft, and he loved how it flowed through his hand. Someday soon he hoped to see it strewn over his pillow while she panted with pleasure.

“Through the back entrance?”

Cyrus nodded. “The service elevator.”

The office building didn’t really have one. The secret entrance through the basement of the building was called that in order to hide what really happened down there. Wolves in the big city had to be creative to hide themselves from prying human eyes.

“Got it.” Mitchell nodded.

“Gentlemen, through any means necessary. I need his mouth to work. Not his arms.”

Betsy gasped and covered her mouth. He waited for his pack mates to leave before he turned to her. “This is a violent world.”

“Any chance you’ve made a terrible mistake and don’t belong anywhere near me? Any chance you’re going to change your mind?” Did she hope he had made a mistake? Or that he hadn’t? It mattered little. She belonged to him. And he to her.

He pulled her close, sniffing at her hair. How could she have so many individual scents all at the same time? Cinnamon, vanilla, lilies…

“Do you really want me to? Ask yourself deep inside where that small, still voice resides. You know the one I’m talking about, the place where you can really hear yourself think. Do you really want me to leave?” He ran his hand up her back. “Or do you actually want me to stay? To be closer?”