Page 116 of Psycho Alphas: Part One

I didn’t really know why. I think sometimes I felt trapped in the north wing, and the ballroom had always had a cove in the corner with armchairs, a day bed, an eccentric, six-foot electric fireplace, bar, and a plush, dark rug.

It was a nice place to draw.

I set her down on an armchair. Her tears had dried up now, but she still looked shell-shocked, raven hair scattered and messy, cheeks bright pink from crying.

Carefully, I drew the bag from her arms, ready to unpack it, but she tried to shove it against my chest.

“I… I don’t um… I don’t want it.” It looked like it was the hardest thing she’d ever done, saying those words. Her pupils were so wide there was no more violet left.

“You… don’t?”

Her voice was a husk. “I want Rogue. I want him to be mine.”

“You think if you take the book, something will change with Rogue?” She was fragile, so I refrained from reminding her that Rogue still wasn’t supposed to be on the cards.

“I… I n-need him.”

I sighed. I was starting to see that, and it was a huge problem. “The sketchbook has nothing to do with Rogue.”

Well. Okay. Not entirely true.

She’d asked him to get her one, and I wanted to be the one to, because fuck him.

But it had notradingvalue on Rogue.

Even though Ishouldpush that point if I was being smart.

But her reaction had told me everything I’d already suspected about her, and I wanted to give her the strength to want more than she’d been given.

“It’s yours,” I told her. “No strings. Doesn’t matter what you do with it.”

She just stared at me blankly like she didn’t understand, so I left her to process, telling her I was fetching snacks.

I returned with a tray of fruit to find her laying on her front before the electric fireplace, Bunny seated upright at her side as (to my delight) she began a sketch.

I was quiet as I stepped in, always curious to get a glimpse into her mind when she thought she was alone.

“Still think it’s a trick, Bunny?” She asked. There was a pause, and she let out a nervous little hum. “Strange trick, if it is. Bit him on the dick, and he’s bought us our first sketchbook ever.” She giggled. “But… wait. What if…?” She cocked her head, pencil slipping a little from her fingers. “Have they been lying to us? That’s all I needed to do with Dan, and he’d have been nicer to me?” She snorted, tilting her head and nudging Bunny. “Or he’d have killed us dead in an instant. Though—probably would havebeen quick—” She cut off, seeming to notice my shadow in her periphery.

Her cheeks flushed as she caught my grin.

I sat down cross-legged beside her, placing down the tray and peering at what she was drawing. I couldn’t tell, yet, what it was, but I thought I made out clouds in the corner. “Ace never got you a sketchbook?” I prodded, picking up a slice of apple.

I’d definitely just caught her saying it was her first sketchbook ever, which seemed strange.

“I never asked,” she said, not looking up from her art.

“Why?”

She shrank a little, fists getting tight on her pencil. “It was, uh… complicated.”

“Complicated?” I asked. He should have been tripping over himself for her.

“Ace… protected me, but uh… he didn’t like me all that much.”

“What?”

“He had to keep me because I was his, but he hated me. Would um… would lock me in my rooms for weeks with no one else. Came for my heats, but not for long.” She gave another nervous shrug. “Made sense though, right Bunny? I don’t know what the universe thought it was doin’.”

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