I set the tablet down, still laughing at the ridiculous werewolf tropes Natasha and my friends seemed to be so fond of—and, admittedly, I was beginning to find some charm in them, too. It felt silly, reading these stories and even entertaining the thought that Taylor was anything like those fictional Alphas. But the moment I thought of his intense gaze or the way he seemed to silently command any room he entered, a familiar warmth crept up my cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of Alpha in him.
The buzz of my phone pulled me back to reality. Another text from my mom.
Mom: “You don’t call anymore. Not even to tell me you’re safe. You know, I have to rely on everyone else to tell me where you are and what you’re doing. Do you even care about your family?”
I sighed, the humor of my
