Page 14 of Cruel Alpha

“Enough,” I said, my voice ringing with Alpha authority. “Proud as Lapine are of our wolves, we do not allow them to rule us. We are not animals. I am disappointed to see that the same is not true of our Arbor neighbors.”

A deep growl rumbled in Slade’s chest, and for a moment, I thought he was about to shift; his canines lengthened, and the dirty nails of his hands grew sharp, but he mastered himself enough to snarl out,

“This isn’t over, Pup.”

I wasn’t afraid of him. He might be older and more experienced, but I was young and strong, and I had everything to fight for. I would take down every Alpha on the Nightfire archipelago if I had to, if that’s what would keep her safe.

“I think it is.” I stood back up to my full height so I could look down at him as I said, “My Betas will see you back over the bridge. Any Arbor wolf who sets a paw on my land without permission in the future will be treated as hostile and killed on sight. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yeah,” said Slade. He didn’t shake off his wolf as he made to leave, walking close enough to me that I could smell his woodsy, unwashed scent. “Yeah, we do.”

Then he and his Betas stalked from the room, leaving a hushed silence in their wake.

“Nate,” I barked. “Get three guys and trail them back to the bridge. Make sure they’re off this island in the next hour. Then, I want sentries posted at each bridge around the clock. A pair on every bridge. Swap out every six hours.”

Nate nodded and sprinted from the room. He was a good kid. He was not the brightest or the strongest in the bunch, but he could be counted on to follow orders fast. The older wolves—my father’s Betas, mostly, and a few of the aging hunters—began to grumble as they returned to whatever they’d been wasting their time with before Arbor interrupted. I could sense their unease, and I didn’t want to let it fester. I raised my voice.

“Does anyone have a problem with how that was handled?”

There was a general rumbling and shaking of heads; none of them had the guts to stand up to me on it. They’d bitch and moan among themselves, no doubt, but they weren’t going to question me to my face.

I left them to it, wanting to be back at Julia’s, wanting to make sure that Alyssa was safe. Liam, my first Beta, caught up to me as I left.

“They didn’t like that,” he said. “Leonard Pearce looks ready to mutiny.”

Leonard Pearce was my Dad’s old Beta and way too big for his boots since I’d taken over. He was a traditionalist in every sense, believing that females should be utterly subservient, and that witches had no place in shifter society. I’d been trying to push back against both views—slowly, subtly—in the years since my father’s passing, and while I’d seen some success, I’d never been able to convince Leonard. He and his lackeys were already deep in hushed conversation, and while I didn’t want to waste resources keeping tabs on my own shifters, I would if I had to.

“No shit,” I said. “He’s gonna have to live with it.”

Liam hummed in agreement. He’d been on the receiving end of more than enough of Leonard’s “advice” himself since I’d taken command, and he knew the kind of male we were dealing with. Leonard wouldn’t say anything to my face unless it was a fight he knew he could win.

“You think Arbor will be back?” Liam asked as we stepped out of the hall and back into the harsh winter sunlight.

A man could hope, I supposed. I could hope that Slade would return to his backwater island with his tail between his legs. I could hope he’d stay there, knowing that this wasn’t worth an inter-Pack conflict. I could hope that pigs might fly.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “They’ll be back.”

Chapter 7 - Alyssa

It had taken a few days for the fear to settle into a low background rumble after the Arbor Alpha and his Betas left Lapine. Caleb hadn’t assigned me any of the usual jobs that the females on the islands undertook while the males worked the quarry, mining the strong red rock that we traded with other Packs. I wasn’t put to work in the laundry or childcare or elder care. It was probably for the best: if I went out to work then the twins would have to go to the communal nursery, and we didn’t need Emmy’s power making an appearance there. It was better for all of us to stay out of sight and out of mind. As much as Julia tried to encourage me to leave the house, just for a little fresh air, there was nothing in my hometown that was nearly enticing enough to risk it.

Caleb had been over every day since our arrival to update me on the security of the island. The conversation was mostly Caleb saying, “No sightings, all quiet,” and me saying, “Great,” and him bouncing his leg for a few uncomfortable minutes until he eventually got up and left.

After the fourth such visit, when the sound of the closing door was still reverberating through the house, Emmy looked up at me, her eyes big, and said,

“We go?”

“Go where, Sweetie?” I asked.

“Ousside!” she shrieked, as if this was obvious and I was very stupid. Perhaps I was stupid; they were kids, and they needed fresh air and space to run—or at least to toddle as fast as their chubby legs would carry them. They needed soft grass to fall on and new people to meet. Calebhadsaid that everything was quiet. Although neither of us thought that Arbor would let this go, Caleb’s security measures were apparently doing their job. Surely, I could go for a quick trip with the twins.

But where would I go? I might be willing to venture out of the house, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave town and risk the forests, no matter how much Emmy and Jack would love them. If I’d had friends in the Pack, I could have gone over to theirs, catch up, but there was no one who’d ever been more than civil to me, no one I could impose on like that.

Perhaps my father would be pleased to see me. He’d tried his best to ignore me as a child for the sake of my stepmother, but he’d never had a son—he might be happy to know that Jack existed to carry on his bloodline. Grandchildren were different from children, I reminded myself. A drill sergeant of a parent might well indulge a grandchild; perhaps my carefully distant father would want to hold his grandchildren close. I made my decision.

“Come on then,” I said, and promptly had to cover my ears at the squeals of joy that filled the room. They were so loud that Julia stuck her head into the room, curious about all the commotion.

“We’re going to see my father,” I explained, and Julia grinned.

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