Page 11 of The Alpha's Cursed Queen

Alice

I hadn’t planned on buying the cupcake on my way home.

But I saw it in the bakery window, sitting all by itself, and couldn’t help myself.

At the orphanage, all the children got a cake on their birthday. But never me. I don’t know why I never got myself a birthday cake once I was on my own. Then, today, I was seized by the desire to celebrate my freedom.

I hike through the forest in the darkness, feeling like a massive weight is about to be lifted off my shoulders.

Finally, freedom!

Perhaps Mary dreams of finding her fated mate one day. Not me, though. This party is going to be a very special sort of hell for me, but I’ll just have to grin and bear it. And afterwards, I can be free of this place forever.

It may not be the most ideal of plans, and I will miss Mary, but the idea of never having to see Willow or Cyrus or anybody else makes me want to smile broadly. After our walk, Mary returned to the healing center, and I dropped by the local pack library tolook up what it really means to come of age. I was right. I can leave this place.

That is exactly what I’m going to do. And I want to celebrate my soon-to-arrive freedom.

Shifters like to go for runs once the sun sets, but this part of the forest is usually not very busy. There’s a lake here, and rumors say the area around it was once the battleground for a fight between the white witches and the dark witches. The bodies from both sides were thrown into the lake. As a result, my kind tends to avoid it, being a superstitious bunch and all.

I find a log to sit on and lower my legs into the cold, glittering water. The reflection of the moon on the surface ripples as my feet kick back and forth in the lake.

This is one of my secret spots. I don’t believe in the dead witch burial story. There was a war long ago between the dark witches and the white witches, but the white witches wiped out the dark witches and allied themselves with the Wolf Kingdom. It is common knowledge that when a witch dies, their body has to be burned or else their souls can cause havoc.

But I have my doubts about that little tidbit, too. Of course, my information on witches is limited. I’ve never met one. The white witches’ coven only ever interacts with the royals. I doubt I’ll ever see a witch in my life.

I open the paper bag and take out the slightly smashed chocolate cupcake. In the bag, there’s also a candle and a matchbox. Carefully balancing the cupcake on my knee, I stick the candle in the center and then light one of the matches. Under the glow of the flame, the pink and blue stripes of the candle make me smile.

“Happy birthday to me,” I sing to myself softly. “Happy birthday to me. This will be your last birthday here, Alice. And then you can go and be whoever you want to be.” I blow out the candle, wishing aloud, “May the next year be filled with the most wonderful of journeys and my freedom.”

I remove the candle and am about to take a bite out of the cupcake when I hear rustling from the side. I’m not alarmed because there’s bound to be some creature or other roaming around at this time of night. However, to my surprise and utter shock, what emerges from the trees is not a deer or a bobcat, but a man. A man I recognize.

“You?!”

The second the exclamation leaves my mouth, I quickly slap my hand over it, recalling what Mary told me about this man. Could he really be a royal soldier?

Oh, crap! Did he track me down to kill me?

I quickly lift my hand, my palm facing outward. “I haven’t told anybody about you. You don’t have to kill me to silence me. What you do and where you go is your business. I don’t really care. There’s no reason to kill me over it.”

The man stares at me in confusion. “What?”

I’m still rambling, though. “I’m just about to come of age. I really don’t want to die tonight. And I don’t have a great memory as it is. I completely forgot about you till you showed up just now. If anybody asks, I’m not even going to remember you.”

His lips twitch, and I feel a little offended. Is he mocking me? He’s really going to make fun of me before he kills me? What kind of sadistic bastard—

“Bastard?” The man’s eyes widen, and I realize I was speaking out loud. My hands fly to my face to cover my mouth in horror.

“Did I say bastard? What I meant was—Just don’t kill me, alright? It’s my birthday. Nobody should die on their birthday. That’s just not okay. It’s bad luck. I heard if you kill somebody on their birthday, their ghost haunts you for eternity. Bad juju. You don’t want that.”

The man looks like he wants to laugh, an exasperated expression forming on his face. “You can breathe. I’m not here to kill you. I just came here to check out the lake.”

“You want to check out the lake?” I ask him doubtfully. “Why? Wait, does this mean the rumors are true? Are there really dead witches in there?”

I quickly pull my legs out of the water.

The man studies me, his hands in his pockets. “Well, yes. But that battle was centuries ago. The lake is fine. I need a flower that grows under the water here.”

I stare at him before looking down at the lake. “Okay. That makes sense. You’re here to pick flowers. That’s perfectly normal.”

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