Page 46 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

I hesitate, my instinct telling me to shut it down. This isn’t what we came here for, and the idea of spending hours tinkering with ancient equipment isn’t exactly appealing. But the way she looks at me—like this is the most exciting thing she’s ever done—makes it impossible to say no.

“Magnolia…”

“I just think it would be cool to get it working,” she says. “Maybe even take a field trip out here with some of the kids at some point–show them there’s a world outside of all this.”

“We can try,” I say, relenting with a sigh. “But don’t get your hopes up.”

Her smile is radiant, and for a moment, I forget why I’m supposed to keep my distance. She moves closer to the telescope, inspecting it with an intensity that makes my chest ache. “Do you think we’ll see anything?” she asks, her voice filled with wonder.

“Depends on what you’re hoping to see,” I say, leaning against the control panel. “Stars? Planets? Maybe some old world space junk?”

Magnolia glances at me, a teasing glint in her eyes. “What about Angels? Think we’ll catch one of their ships?”

I stiffen slightly at the mention of them, my easygoing facade slipping for a moment. “I wouldn’t count on it,” I say, my tone more guarded now. “They don’t show themselves unless they want to be seen. And besides…who knows if they even fly up there, right? Being celestial and all.”

“You don’t believe they’re aliens?” Magnolia asks, tilting her head, her curls catching the light like a halo.

I shrug, crossing my arms as I lean against the weathered wall of the observatory. “I don’t know what they are,” I admit. “Could be aliens. Could be something worse.”

Her expression grows pensive, her gaze drifting to the massive telescope towering above us. “They showed their hand in Austin, during the rebellion.”

I glance at her, my brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

She exhales slowly, her hands curling tightly around the strap of her camera. “I mean they dropped the act,” she says. “Stopped pretending to be some benevolent force and turned their psychic powers on the population. They didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire—men, women, kids. It didn’t matter. It was all about control–about keeping us brainwashed to think the Infernal Legion was evil.”

Her words send a chill down my spine, though I try not to let it show. “Hold up,” I mutter. “Psychic powers?”

Magnolia nods, her eyes distant, like she’s seeing something far away—or something she wishes she could forget. “They didn’t even try to hide it. It was like watching gods tear through humanity. My parents and I…” She pauses, swallowing hard. “We were helping organize an evacuation when they unleashed whatever that was, while Reyes and his people actually fought. They could do things…use their minds to move objects, to make people blind and deaf. A lot of folks died.”

She shifts her weight, her grip tightening on the camera. “And then, when they were done? They didn’t stick around to explain. They fled—on ships. They didn’t fly with wings, they weren’t raptured up or something. They escaped on spaceships. You don’t need stories or speculation when you’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

Her voice carries an edge of anger, but there’s a deeper current of pain beneath it, raw and unhealed. I take a moment before responding, my thoughts racing. “I’ve heard the stories,” I say carefully. “But...it’s hard to imagine.”

Magnolia turns to me. “It’s not a story, Colt. I was there. So were my parents. My siblings were too young to remember, but we’ll never forget.”

The weight of her memories settles over me. The Angels—or whatever they are—have always been a mystery, a shadowy force that looms over everything, watching, waiting. They’re so few that it almost seems like the Convergence could have happened without them at times…but this is the first time anyone’s told me they know the truth.

It freaks me out more than I expected.

“They didn’t look like saviors,” she adds. “Not when they tore through Austin like that. Not when they left us to pick up the pieces.”

I study her for a moment, the fire in her gaze, the way her fingers tremble just slightly as she adjusts her grip on the camera. “We’ll never really know what they want,” I say finally, my voice low. “But whatever it is, it’s not in our best interest.”

Magnolia nods, her gaze returning to the telescope. “Maybe not. But I still want to see the stars tonight.”

Tonight.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

I stare at her, trying to gather my thoughts, but all I can focus on is the way her voice lingers in the air—soft, hopeful. “You want to stay here?” I ask, surprised. “Overnight?”

She nods, turning to face me fully now, her expression so open, so vulnerable, that it makes my chest ache. “Just for tonight. We’ve come all this way, and I don’t want to leave without seeing something. Please?”

Please.

That one word cuts through every layer of my resistance, tearing it down faster than I can rebuild it. My wolf stirs, restless and eager, thrilled by the idea of having her out here, away from the den, away from prying eyes. I know what staying overnight means—the risks, the consequences, the lines that might be crossed. If we stay, things will change between us. They already have, haven’t they? The tension humming between us has been growing since the moment she climbed onto my bike, her arms wrapping around me like she belonged there. And now, alone in this place, with nothing but the stars above us and time stretching endless ahead…I’m not sure I trust myself.

I swallow hard, the logical part of my brain screaming at me to say no, to remind her of her parents, of the fallout when they realize she’s gone. But the rest of me—the part that’s aching for her, for the softness in her eyes and the way her voice wraps around me like a promise—can’t resist. I don’t want to resist.

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