Page 15 of Cruel Alpha

“Need me to go with you?” she asked. She was so sweet: if they hadn’t looked so similar, I would have doubted that she and Caleb could ever be related.

“I think I’ll manage,” I said. “Thanks, though.”

She disappeared back to her room with a little salute, and I busied myself with pulling the twins’ coats and shoes on. It took less time than usual since they were both so excited to get outside, and within a few minutes, we were stepping out of the door for the first time in almost a week.

Emmy yelled, making to run forward, but I held her hand tight.

“Sorry, baby girl,” I said. “You’ve got to stay close to Mommy, okay?”

Emmy scowled but didn’t protest. In sharp contrast, Jack was all but clinging to the leg of my pants, nervous about the new place and its new sounds and smells. It was strange to think that my children had never known Lapine; I’d always thought of them as Lapine children, but they’d been born on Arbor, and that island—with its log cabins and backward traditions—was all the home they’d ever had.

The eye of every person we passed was on us as we walked through town, but no one tried to draw me into conversation, for which I was thankful. I doubted anyone here would have anything pleasant to say to me, and I didn’t want the twins picking up on the hostility. I wondered if Caleb had said something, or had forbidden anyone to speak to me. It was the sort of high-handed thing hewoulddo. I wasn’t thinking about Caleb right now, though; I was enjoying being outside with my children. The fall air was crisp and clear, the storm that had been raging when I left Arbor having blown over and left sunny skies in its wake.

It took almost an hour for us to traverse the town—Jack and Emmy were forever stopping to check out cool rocks and investigate bushes—but eventually, we came to the flaking blue door of my father’s home. Ofmyhome, once upon a time. I shouldn't have felt anxious, but my heart was pounding in my chest as I raised my hand to knock on the door.

I waited, heart in my throat, for what felt like an eternity before someone answered. My half-sister’s mouth fell open when she saw me, Jack on one hip and Emmy holding my hand, standing on the porch.

“Hey, Gracie,” I said. “Long time, no see.”

Gracie blinked at me. Then she turned back into the house and yelled,

“Mom! Dad! Alys is back!” She looked me up and down one more time. “You’d better come in, I guess.”

It was hardly a warm welcome, but I shouldn’t have expected anything else from Gracie. In her mind, it was my fault that her parents were unhappy together. I couldn’t really blame her for that: her mother had been pregnant when my father stepped out on her with one of the few witches who passed through Lapine. He might have gotten away with that transgression if the witch in question hadn’t left baby me on their doorstep nine months later when Gracie was only a few months old. I was a living reminder that my father had been unfaithful to his mate, and no one in the family had ever quite forgiven me for it.

It didn’t help that I clearly looked like my mother, whoever she’d been. My father had fair hair and grey eyes, traits he’d passed on to Gracie. Unlike my riot of curls, her flaxen hair was straight and fine, pushed back from her face by the same black headband she’d been wearing since we were pre-teens.

Gracie turned to retreat into the house, and I followed, closing the door behind me. Emmy tugged on my pant leg.

“Whossat, Mommy?” she whispered.

“That’s your Aunt Gracie,” I said. “She’s Mommy’s sister, like Jack is your brother.”

Emmy frowned, but I never found out what was unsatisfactory about my answer because we had emerged into the living space. My father was sitting in his chair by the window, just as I remembered. His face looked much the same as it always had, but his blonde hair now bore more streaks of white. He smiled at me, and I felt my heart lift—perhaps things would be okay.

“Hey, Dad.” Then, because it would be seen as a deliberate slight if I did anything else, I turned to my stepmother. “Hi, Pauline.”

Pauline barely acknowledged me from her place on the couch. There was a pile of Dad’s work clothes next to her, and she had out her darning needle. Gracie went to sit beside her mother, and no one offered me a seat of my own. I hovered awkwardly in the door.

“I thought you might like to meet your grandchildren,” I said, bouncing Jack on my hip and guiding Emmy into the room. “Go and say hello, Sweetheart.”

Emmy, as ever, was keen to meet an unfamiliar face. She strode right up to her grandfather, but she didn’t speak. If anything, it seemed as though she was sizing him up.

“Hello,” Dad said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Emelia,” said Emmy. “What’s yours?”

Dad chuckled.

“My name’s Edward,” he said. “But you can call me Pappy. I’m your mommy’s father.”

Emmy considered this information.

“Okay,” she said. Then, apparently done with the interaction, she toddled off to inspect the curtains. Dad gave me a significant look, and I nodded, smiling. Emmy was a handful, but it was impossible not to be charmed by her. Jack, by contrast, was content to observe his new environment from the safety of my arms. I walked us over to Dad’s chair and knelt down next to him.

“Are you going to introduce yourself, Baby?” I asked, and Jack dropped his head onto my shoulder. He didn’t hide his face, though, staring up at my father with big, round eyes.

“You’re a serious little thing, aren’t you?” Dad said, reaching out slowly to chuck Jack under the chin. Jack allowed it, which was promising.

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