Alpha Jasper

Thea

I’m tucked under my covers, the sound of heavy rain drumming against the roof filling my ears.

It’s a soothing, hypnotic sound, tempting me to bury my face in my pillow and sleep for a few more hours.

But I’ve made a promise to meet Luca at the diner for lunch before my shift. I glance at my bedside table, realizing I have to be there in an hour …

I’m out of bed in a flash, and into the shower. Luca isn’t a fan of tardiness, and honestly, neither am I. But organization isn’t exactly my strong suit.

So when I’m finally dressed, towel drying my hair, I assume the knock at the door is Luca trying to hurry me along.

And I keep thinking that, until I open the door.

My towel slips from my fingers, pooling at my feet. Eyes wide, I’m frozen, staring at the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. No one comes close to challenging that thought. Not Luca... No one.

“Good morning,” he says. His voice is unexpected. Those two words should have been light and cheerful. But he says them gently, his voice deep and soft.

And the accent... it’s familiar, yet exotic in a way I can’t quite put into words.

I just stand there, gawking at him like a complete fool, taking in this ‘God’ at my doorstep. I can’t tear my eyes away from his.

They’re a deep-set swirling violet, tinted with the darkest ebony-black irises; they almost ensnare me, like hands made from some kind of illusory magic that seems to draw me in.

He must be a few years older than me. Maturity is etched into his expression, as he stares at me as intently as I stare at him.

But he doesn’t have thick, matted wet hair on his head like mine. No, just shadowy wisps of tousled black hair, dancing across his sun-kissed forehead.

And if my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, a hint of violet similar to his eyes is woven within those strands.

I know what’s normal, and this is not normal.

“Ah… I… Hi.” The words tumble out of my mouth without any filter, probably sounding like gibberish.

The more I stare at him, the stranger he becomes. I could never imagine someone looking so beautiful. Almost magical.

And, despite the rain pouring down outside, not a drop of water mars his appearance.

Maybe the canopy dad had put up to keep the rain off the deck protected him, but he had to have got here somehow, and I don't see a car or an umbrella anywhere.

“I came to return this to you,” he tells me, his voice low and soothing. My knees feel like they might buckle.

He holds up his hand, and I see he’s holding a leash. My eyes follow the leash, and I meet the bright eyes of Squiggles.

“Where did you find him?” I ask, bending down with my arms extended. I’m not fond of the dog, but the relief I feel seeing him alive is too overwhelming to ignore.

And for the briefest second, it’s more normal than the stranger.

Because strangers don’t exist in our town.

The dog runs into my arms, putting its dirty paws on my thighs as it licks my face with a sloppy tongue. I resist the urge to cringe in front of the dog-saving God.

“He was wandering around the forest,” he tells me smoothly, his voice as sweet as honey. “This was the first house...”

I’m frozen for a moment. My house is on the opposite side of the woods from June’s, which means Squiggles would have had to trek for a while to get here.

But the fact this man has approached me with such confidence that the dog is mine is a little unsettling.

Is he the man from last night? No, I must be imagining that.

He hands me the leash as I stand back up, looking me directly in the eye as he does so.

Hoping he doesn’t notice my hands shaking from the intimate feeling he is giving me, I tug on the leash for Squiggles to come inside.

“What were you doing in the woods?” I ask. It’s a simple, maybe too intrusive question, but I’m curious. But what really has my curiosity piqued is the idea of a stranger being here.

And a beautiful one at that.

“I just moved into a house over there,” he tells me, turning to point further across the woods. I glance over, noticing it’s the part no one ever goes to.

It’s not owned, because of the rumors of Phantom Wolves roaming there. Not until now at least …

We stand, staring at each other for a few moments. Then I realize I should probably be polite.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask, forcing the smile I reserve for strangers or elderly people. Without a moment of hesitation, he nods, so I step back, holding the door wide for him to walk in.

And just like that, I’ve let a complete stranger into my home, who could potentially be a rapist or murderer. I blink, as he wanders into the lounge.

Maybe it was the intimidation factor he used so effortlessly and easily.

“It’s not really my dog,” I tell him, closing the door nervously. I face away from him, my face screwed up as I berate myself internally.

“Oh?”

“It’s my friend’s. She lives a good walk north,” I explain, bending down to let Squiggles off the leash. He darts away, running off on his tiny legs to who knows where in my house.

I can imagine June’s reaction if she saw this mysterious man. Either she would fall in love, or accuse him of being a Phantom Wolf.

“The name’s Thea, by the way,” I inform him, turning around to finally face him. He is staring at a wall filled with framed pictures—of my mother.

He pauses, as if he’s surprised at being expected to tell me his name. “Ah... Casper.”

“Interesting,” I muse. Glancing down, I notice my thighs covered in dirt from that stupid dog. I try to brush it away, only to stain my jeans in the process.

I sigh, walking closer to where Casper silently stares at the wall.

“Uh...” I hesitate, catching the serious look in Casper’s eyes as he gazes down at me. “That’s my mom.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He knew. His expression is full of sympathy, but all I feel is a hot flush of embarrassment.

It’s like his eyes have the power to peel back all the layers I’ve carefully wrapped around myself. It’s been this way since she passed away.

I clear my throat, taking a step back. “Don’t be. It happened years ago.”

I pivot and make a beeline for the kitchen. The house isn’t large, so I can still see him from here, but I don’t want to. He should leave before he catches sight of the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

Because I don’t want to admit that a total stranger has stumbled upon one of my deepest secrets.

And I don’t even know why he’s here... or what he wants. Nothing. I have to lean against the kitchen counter for support.

“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was.” I startle as Casper’s voice sounds from behind me. How did he get here so fast? “A loss is a loss.”

His words ring with the truth of personal experience. But unlike him, I won’t pry.

“Listen, I think you should leave,” I blurt out, trying to sidestep his towering frame. He remains silent as I scramble around the living room, searching for my coat and keys.

Luca is going to be pissed if I’m late.

I glance at the clock, expecting it to be close to noon.

“Four thirty?” I squeak, staring at the clock hands pointing at the most unexpected numbers. I was supposed to start work at twelve thirty! I’m screwed.

“Damn,” I mutter, my search for my keys becoming frantic. How did I let myself get so caught up in conversation with Casper for... four and a half hours? I must be losing it.

Casper is standing near the front door, my keys dangling from his index finger. “Running late?”

If I wasn’t on the verge of getting fired from the only job that could help me leave this Pack, I might have questioned him. How did he not realize how much time had passed? How did I not realize?

Something just isn’t adding up.

“Actually, I am extremely late,” I inform him, snatching the keys from his hand and grabbing one of Dad’s coats from the hook.

I open the front door and guide a surprisingly composed Casper onto the porch, locking the door behind me.

“I had a good...”

“Like I said earlier, you need to leave,” I interrupt, cutting Casper off. His face goes blank as he nods in understanding.

Without another word, he strides into the pouring rain and disappears into the forest.