The Possessive Alpha
Chapter 45

ELLE POV

After dinner, we single-filed throughout the restaurant like schoolchildren to the limousine. Jonah was closest to the door to the back of the limo. Theo and I sat at the furthest end of the limousine, closest to the window separating us from the driver. The twins and their mates were whispering amongst themselves. Charity’s boyfriend decided not to come last minute, claiming something was more important. He was leaving her to fend for herself for the weekend.

Thankfully, Eli was kind enough to keep her company, keeping a respectful distance while remaining interested in what she was saying. Jonah remained silent, watching the bustling city out of the window. My side tickles from the movement of shifting fabric against my skin, and that’s when I notice Theo texting rapidly. I desperately want to look at the name on the screen.

Rather than betray my friend’s trust, I lean my head against the glass, letting its coolness relax the flaring nerves that can’t seem to settle. A nagging voice is scratching at my head like it’s trying to tell me something, but it’s trapped behind an impenetrable wall.

Opening the mindlink, needing a distraction, any distraction from this increasing pain, I reach out to Theo; like vines searching for a stronghold, I find it and push my message through the link. ‘Who are you talking to?’ I ask him, I didn’t intend to ask him, but my curiosity is slowly churning at my insides.

‘Andrew,’ Theo responds in a huskier voice than I was expecting, but I say nothing, ‘he is checking in.’ He explains calmly, but the sweat around his brow causes the seeds of doubt to plant in my stomach, slowly growing.

‘Oh, that’s nice of him,’ I reply to Theo with my head still pressed against the cool glass, hoping it can soothe the gnawing feeling taking over my body, chewing at my insides quickly until I am nothing but a frazzled mess.

‘You okay, Elle?’ Theo questions through the link, and I can feel the energy of his nerves dancing along my skin. ‘You look a little pale.’

Chuckling dryly, I open one emerald eye to look at him while a slight smile graces my lips, ‘I am always pale, Theo.’ Closing my eye, I lay my head on his shoulder, and I could feel his body freeze, unsure how to act as if we had never watched movies like this.

‘I know, but this is different,’ Theo says; I can feel the heat of his gaze on my cheek, watching me earnestly to check for any severe signs of distress. ‘Should we go back to the hotel and let you rest?’ He asks frantically, and I almost laugh at the suggestion, but I hold it in.

‘Theo, it’s just a small headache. There is no way I am missing Hamilton because of a damn headache. It will go away soon,’ I say, opening my eyes to look out the window to see Jonah on his phone again, avoiding conversations with others in the room.

‘Notice anything strange about Jonah today?’ I ask Theo as I study him under my lashes, hoping he cannot feel my eyes on him, so I can continue to study him.

Theo has some deep-rooted opinions on Jonah that he neglected to share with me. ‘You’re just now noticing? There is something about him I don’t trust,’ Theo scoffs, obviously offended that I ever could trust him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I ask him if he has that much distrust for the guy he should have told me, right?

‘What was I supposed to say?’ He asks, and I start to see the point he is making. ‘I had no reason not to trust him other than my gut and my wolf. I can’t just accuse an Alpha without proof.’

‘No, you couldn’t, I suppose,’ I say as the limo finally rolls to a stop, and I can hear the gears shift into the park. Before the driver can reach the back to open the door for us, Jonah has already hopped out of the car.

“Alpha,” Eli calls, attempting to be the dutiful beta reminding his leader of his manners. His voice causes jonah to turn around and look at all of us with a grim look. His eyes flash to black, but he quickly controls his wolf. Still, the aura of annoyance is rolling off of him, covering the rest of us like a blanket.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” Jonah says as he bends down to look in the limo door, but the insincerity in his words is noticeable to Theo and me too. I can practically feel the roll of his eyes. His cousins give side-eyed looks to each other but say nothing about his behavior. Stepping away from the door, he allows us to get out before walking up the steps to the theater.

As we pass by the line of tickets to show the attendants, hearing the whispers of the humans wondering who we are and if we are famous or rich. When Jonah reaches the attendant holding open the glass door encased in a gold frame, the elderly gentleman bows slightly in respect before telling us to enjoy the show.

The theater’s lobby is huge; the floor is black and white marble with an intricate design in the middle. From the looks of it, each piece of marble had to be hand-cut. The women’s heels echo throughout the room, a nice natural muffle to the conversations going on. The walls are floor-to-ceiling gold, with heavy red drapes lining some sections and gigantic landscape paintings covering other wall sections.

Hanging above us is a large tiered chandelier with hundreds of glass crystals hanging off it. In the center of the room is a large, divided, carpeted stairway that leads to the upper levels and the box seats. Balconies on the upper levels allow guests to people-watch those in the lobby. Two doors reside on either side, allowing entrance to the lower-level seats. On the far right wall is a long oak bar with bottles of liquor lined nicely and separated by type.

Jonah leads us to the bar, turning to murmur something to Eli, his hand tapping the bar impatiently. Whatever had agitated him all day seems to have been magnified as soon as we stepped foot into the theater. Once the bartender gives us attention, Jonah seems to relax, ordering white wine for us girls and single-malt scotch on the rocks for the men. The bartender eyes us warily. I can see the wheels turning, trying to determine if we are even old enough to consume alcohol, but one warning look from Jonah’s flash of a hundred-dollar bill makes the man shut up and pour.

As we wait for the drinks, I feel a prickle on my neck, my body aching in the most uncomfortable way, licking at my skin in a warning, every instinct telling me to run as fast as I can from here. The pounding and scraping increase tenfold, causing me to wince from the unexpected pressure in my skull.

Turning around in circles, I look up at the people standing on the balconies, trying to find the culprit, when I see a middle-aged man of medium stature, black hair with a grey streak atop his head. As I meet the man’s gaze, the thrashing in my head becomes unbearable, causing me to wince, and I can see the leer on his face as he bends down to whisper to the young woman next to him. Her gold eyes flicker to mine for a split second, and I swear I can see sympathy before she plasters on the same stone-cold expression she had minutes before.

As they turn, I keep my eyes glued to them, weaving their way through the crowd toward box sections. As they recceed, the intense pounding in my head dulls to a more manageable level but still sits behind the eyes, like needles are prickling the skin.

“We should get you to your seats,” Jonah says, handing out our drinks and hurrying up the stairs like a fire has been lit under his a*s; I say nothing as I follow behind the rest of them, my thoughts too preoccupied with the mystery man whose look sends me into the tailspin of fight or flight.

I had never seen that man before, so why was I terrified of him?