Love Letters from an Alpha Read Online Free PDF Page B

permission, Owen made his way to V's
office. He'd only seen the place twice—when he'd been hired, and when he'd
quit. He hesitated in front of the door, wondering if V was going to smile
again like she had previous times. Somehow, he doubted it.
    Owen had not wanted to believe Luther's words in the strange
not-quite-dream, but they could not be denied. His family's debts had indeed
been paid. Without that financial burden weighing on him, Owen had found a
regular part-time job. It paid less, but it was enough for his rent and he
didn't have to take his clothes off for strangers.
    But the roses and the letters had stopped arriving. There had
been no sign of Luther whatsoever, not even a black car, or a shadow through
the corner of his eye. Owen didn't dream of Luther anymore, and he wondered if
before their disastrous meeting, Luther had used his astral projection to slide
into his nighttime fantasies.
    It should have bothered him, but all he felt was loss. The
more he thought about it, the more he realized he should have listened, waited
for Luther to explain. He couldn't in good conscience say that he'd
overreacted—after all, it wasn't every day he found out that his sort-of-crush
was a mythological creature. But Luther had been fragile. He could see it now.
Given what had happened to his mother, he'd obviously had a very hard time
approaching Owen, but he had done it nonetheless—and that meant something. With
every day that passed, Owen ached more and more, haunted and in pain. He
suspected he wasn't the only one who felt the loss.
    He realized he'd zoned out when the door suddenly opened
before he could even knock. "Well, what are you doing skulking
there?" V snapped at him. "Come in already."
    Owen complied, stepping past her and into the office.
"You're looking for Luther," she continued. "Took you long
enough."
    Something rebellious rose in Owen's chest. "Can you
blame me?" More than he already blamed himself, at least.
    "It doesn't matter if I blame you or not, Owen. He's my
friend, and I've known him for centuries. He's been through a lot."
    Owen didn't answer. He had a feeling she wasn't quite done
with what she had to say. "You know, he was only a boy when he saw a
werewolf enforcer tear his mother's throat out in front of him. I found him in
the forest, covered in blood. He wasn't even shivering. He wasn't scared. He was
furious, a wounded animal. And a wounded animal lashes out at the people who
harmed it."
    "What exactly are you saying, V?"
    "The thing is, Owen, that it's easy enough to get
revenge. All he had to do was wait and train, and once he had control over his
astral projection... Well, let's just say he didn't have a hard time taking
over what is now his pack. Of course, by then, his father was already
dead." She paused and shook her head, as if physically trying to dispel
the memories. "What I'm saying is that he would never lash out against
you, so the pain stays with him instead. I don't like to see him hurt."
    "I'm just a normal guy, V. I don't know anything about
werewolves and magic. I don't even know why I'm here. All I know is that I
still have questions and I can't give him up just yet. I hate that he gave up
on me so quickly."
    V rubbed her eyes and went to the bar, pouring two glasses of
expensive whiskey. She offered one to Owen, and he took it obediently.
Normally, he didn't drink much, but he suspected he'd need it for this
conversation. He had not missed her casual mentioning of 'centuries'. "Are
you a werewolf too?"
    V shook her head. "There are a lot of creatures out
there other than werewolves. But I'm sure that's not really what you want to
know, is it?"
    No, it wasn't. He didn't really care about V's secrets or her
anger. In fact, what she'd told him so far pointed out that he'd been right to
come to her. "How's Luther?" he asked outright.
    "Trying to get over you, and failing. Well, it was
pointless to even make the attempt, but he wants to respect your choice."
    She scoffed,