We sat in silence—him on the bed, me on the floor—locked in each other's gaze for what felt like far too long. In the end, I was the one who broke it.
"What? Are you still half asleep?" I asked. "Tell me, what's gotten into you?"
It made no difference. Alex didn't move, didn't flinch. He just kept staring at me with the same unwavering seriousness.
"I'm serious, Lyra," he said. "The worst kind of alphas are the dominant ones. They say even betas can be affected by them. It never ends well. And you know just as well as I do how lucky we've been so far. There are twisted bastards out there who prefer even other alphas, let alone a beta."
The air in the room grew heavy, the atmosphere turning strange and uncomfortable.
"Anyway," he continued, "make sure you avoid alphas. Sleeping with them—don't even think about it. They're nothing but animals. When they're in rut, they don't see people as human anymore. So promise me. You won't do it."
