A familiar figure approached me seconds later while still crying my eyes out on the old bench. I tried to inhale blink the tears, raising my hand to press the tips against my eyes. The Alpha cleared his throat, his stare digging into me. Did he see my tears? I hoped not.
“Rose.” He croaked, his voice barely above a whisper, leaning forward. “What happened? Are you okay?”
At the question, I froze, struggling to make sense of how I felt. Part of me felt like I was purposely thrown in deep waters and trying to kick and flail my limbs to try and go back to the surface.
Opening my mouth to say something, I expected the words to flow out, elaborate, but my mouth twisted instead.
“This is awkward,” I blurted out, my eyes widening and my hand twitching, wanting to fly to my treacherous mout
