The door finally closed behind the last visiting Alpha. Their heavy boots thudded against the stone floor until the sound disappeared down the hallway, swallowed by silence, a very thick and suffocating silence.
I sat there on the edge of the couch, back stiff, hands clenched so tightly in my lap that I was sure my nails were drawing little crescent moons into my palms. I didn't dare move. I didn't even dare breathe too loudly. Because Alpha Zach was still standing there and he hadn't said a single word since that smug Alpha leaned across the table, grinned, and asked casually, "So, Zach if you ever decide she's too much trouble, you can always send that pretty little thing my way."
Pretty little thing. He meant me. I wanted to melt into the floor. Or evaporate. Or spontaneously combust and leave only a pile of ash behind, because that might actually be less terrifying than existing in this exact moment.
