Beg Me Back, Alpha

Another beautiful morning starts by pulling my duvet away from my now-shiv

. My internal alarm clock is as precise as a Swiss watch, every morning, my brain gives me a rude a

d-I shuffle towards the bathroom, giving the judgmental mirror on the wall the cold sho

r five minutes, turns into a stream of warm caresses. A quick lather-rinse-repeat with

an off-the-shoulder grey top, I'm ready to face the day. Armed wit

low Omega, Susan, in our kitchen, or as I like to call it, the culinar

cooking. We've got a feeding frenzy at seven-thirt

ike a good little soldier, I march into battle against breakfast. After 30 minutes of a

ps and chatter outside. My cue to retreat. Back in the safety of the kitchen, Su hands me a bowl

ce, I feel Su's curious gaze on me. She doesn't need to voice her

o give me her full attention. Despite her 5-foot frame (which I, at 5'4'',

storytime, Su," I reply, spea

thing?" she prods,

rision remains a mystery to me. Evading his contemptuou

ntle laughter pulls me back to the

dn't hide things from me," she coax

"Just the usual Jacob antics," I reply nonchalantly

ts, moving towards the refrigerator as if our

revealing the burn marks scarring

. Ironically, he was the one who accepted me into the pack. Several times, I've considered going