Page 88 of The Alpha's Cursed Queen

Mira is my life. Everything I do is for her. And the truth is that if it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have fought as hard as I did. She gave me a reason to live again. My lonely, broken heart healed because of the love I had for her and because of the love she gave me.

But seeing Darian again has reminded me of how raw my wounds still are. All these years later, I realize those wounds still bleed. My nightmares have returned with a vengeance. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done with my life, or how much respect I have from my peers; at night, in the darkness of my dreams, I’m still on that marble floor, begging for mercy, humiliated, a broken shell pleading for death.

I once saw a human therapist when my nightmares were getting out of control. It was when my screams began to wake up Mira that I decided I needed help. I saw the woman for a couple of months, and while I couldn’t tell her the true story of what I’d gone through, I gave her a humanized version of it. Her advice was to forgive my tormentor and move past this event. She even encouraged me to date again, to open my heart to others. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to tell me exactly how to get past what had happened to me. After all, she hadn’t lived through what I had lived through. I stuck around long enough to learn how to control myself so I wouldn’t frighten my daughter every night, and then I stopped seeing her.

Open my heart to someone? Why? So I can expose myself to the same kind of experience again?

Forgive my tormentor? The one who never apologized? I don’t want to forgive Darian. All he has given me is excuses. Excuses that I don’t buy. Not for a moment do I believe he did it all to protect me.

I can believe that his marriage with Willow is unhappy, though. He probably didn’t expect her to be as shallow and vapid as she truly is. Or maybe things just didn’t work out between them. But I will never forget the way he walked past me to the girl who had bullied me my entire life. He knew what she had put me through, and he made me watch as he chose her instead of me. He watched as she harmed me.

I don’t believe Darian’s words. It was planned. It had to have been planned. Whatever his reasons were for hurting me, I can’t forgive and I can’t forget.

I close my eyes, leaning my head against the back of the couch.

I’ve calmed down enough to know that the only way Darian will figure out that Mira is his daughter is if he gets near her. As long as he doesn’t, he will never know the truth. I just have to make sure that his and Mira’s paths don’t ever cross.

It’s getting to be around midnight, so I pick up my sleeping daughter and take her to her room. She doesn’t stir even once. I’m cleaning up the living room when I hear a soft knock on the apartment door. Instantly wary, I walk over to check the outside camera. Nobody should be able to enter the building without being buzzed in.

When I hear a key rattling in the door, my blood turns cold. I’m ready to shift when I hear a familiar voice on the other side. “I’m not spending the night outside, Alice. Let me in. I know you’re home.”

I sigh in relief, then quickly unlock the extra deadbolt and open the door to reveal a grouchy-looking woman standing there. Mary’s long hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she gives me an annoyed look.

“I’ve been calling you all night. I needed a ride from the airport. You’re paying me back for the cab fare.”

Apologetic, I take her suitcase from her. “I had no idea you were coming. I had my phone on silent, Mary. Maybe give me a heads up next time.”

“How am I supposed to surprise you if I give you a heads up?” She walks over to the island in the kitchen, taking off her jacket and putting her purse down before heading straight to the fridge. “You got anything to eat? The food on the plane was inedible.”

“There’s some beef stew leftover from lunch. And I can heat up some bread for you,” I offer.

“Yes, please.” She takes out the pot and puts it on the stove to heat up before grabbing a wooden spoon from one of the drawers to stir the beef stew.

Her familiarity doesn’t bother me. Mary comes to visit every now and then and treats this place like her own home. It comforts me to have her around. It almost seems like she lives here and travels to work for a few months.

I smile at her, the disquiet in my heart easing. “I thought you were coming next week.”

“I was.” She glances at me. “But you needed me sooner, so I applied for a two-week vacation.” Changing the subject, she tells me, “It was Edith’s retirement party this afternoon.”

The mention of the healer who used to be so kind to me perks me up. “She’s retiring?”

Mary’s back is to me as she stirs the stew. “I think she knew that I knew where you were, but she knew better than to ask. Too many eyes and ears everywhere. But this afternoon, when she got a minute alone with me, she told me to tell you that she hopes you’re doing well and are happy.”

My heart tightens in my chest. There are times when I forget that there were people like Edith who did care for me.

“Anyway,” Mary changes the subject again, “how did the event go tonight?”

“I left early.” I put the bread in the toaster. “Had a run-in with Darian.”

My friend turns to look at me, her eyebrows raised. “Oh? Since you’re not frothing at the mouth, I’m guessing it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was brutal,” I mutter. “And I didn’t exactly keep my cool, either. I couldn’t stay there a minute longer, so I came home early and spent time with Mira.”

As I tell her about my encounter with Darian, her expression is unreadable. Once I’m done, she turns back to the stew and ladles some into a bowl for herself. The bread is also ready, and I hand her both pieces. She doesn’t touch her food, though. She doesn’t say anything, either. Sitting at the counter, she looks like she’s pondering something.

“Mary?”

When she looks at me, I see the tension in her eyes. “Is there really no hope of reconciliation?”

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