Page 44 of Keep My Alpha

My apartment is spotless. I scrubbed the bathroom and washed every piece of fabric I own. I ran the sheets through the wash twice because they still smelled like him. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to keep that scent or get rid of it, so I washed them again and then felt instantly, stupidly sad.

My phone has been on Do Not Disturb since this morning. I got up, made tea, and sat on my bedroom floor, staring at the nest I’ve somehow built around a man.

I can’t look at the things in the nest right now. If I do, all I see is his face.

Wren. Quiet, always bumping into door frames. He stepped between me and Derek without hesitation. He kissed me in a hallway like I was air. He knelt on my bed and touched me so gently I forgot how to speak. My alpha. My mate.

I press my palm to the bite on my neck. It throbs, warm and steady, and my body responds right away. My body isn’t confused about any of this. It’s all in.

My mind is the one causing trouble.

A soft knock at the door makes me jump.

“If you don’t answer in ten seconds, I’m using the emergency key,” Milo calls through the door. “I brought groceries, so my hands are full. If you make me wait, I’ll drop eggs on your doorstep and you’ll have to clean it up.”

I walk across the living room and open the door. Milo stands there with two canvas bags, his dark hair held back by one of Callum’s headbands. His face is gentle, but he’s clearly not taking no for an answer.

“Hi,” I say.

“You haven’t answered your phone in nineteen hours.” He steps inside without waiting for me to invite him. “Jude wanted to come, but I told him I’d handle it.”

“Handle what?”

He sets the bags on the counter next to the birds. He glances at them, then at me, starts to say something, but his eyes catch on my neck.

He stops.

The canvas bag in his hand sags, and for a moment Milo just stands there, staring at the bite on my neck like he’s forgotten how to blink. It’s silly, since he has one too, and Jude already put a photo of mine in the group chat about four minutes after he saw it at the mixer.

“Soren.” His voice is soft and shaky, nothing like his usual self. “Look at you.”

I touch the mark. “Yeah.”

He sets the bag down gently, as if he forgot he was holding it. He lifts his hand, hovers near my jaw, and tilts my chin with two fingers to see better. His eyes are shining.

“Oh my god.” His voice cracks. “It’s so much better in person. You have a mate.”

Then he hugs me, hard. Both arms go around my shoulders, his chin resting on top of my head because he’s a little taller. He takes a shaky breath, the kind he does when he’s trying not to cry. His chest presses against the bite and it throbs, and my eyes sting too.

“I’m so happy for you,” he says into my hair. “So happy. You have no idea.”

“Don’t.” My voice is shaky. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and I’ve already cried twice today. I’m dehydrated.”

He laughs, the sound thick with emotion. He pulls back and holds me at arm’s length, studying my face the way only Milo does, like he’s trying to read what I’m really feeling.

Then Milo’s concerned side takes over.

“But you’re not happy right now,” he says.

“It’s complicated.”

“Tell me everything.” He turns to the grocery bags and starts taking things out: butter, eggs, cocoa powder, chocolate chips. “Sit down.”

I sit down. Not because he told me to, but because my legs are tired from pacing and Milo is already moving through my kitchen like it’s his own. He lived here for two years before Callum, so he knows where everything is. He doesn’t ask what happened. He measures cocoa powder into a bowl and waits.

It takes me a few minutes.

“He’s the ghost,” I say to the table. “The birds. The bench. All of it. Wren is my secret admirer.”