Page 82 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

Magnolia hums, swinging our joined hands as we move past the main buildings, following the dirt path toward the chapel garden. It’s quieter here, the air rich with the scent of wildflowers and warm earth, the lanterns casting golden streaks across the ground.

She stays close, her fingers brushing over mine, her warmth seeping into my skin like she belongs there.

“She’s nothing like me,” she says. “I was on a completely different page as a little girl.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Mmhm,” she says, smiling. “I grew up in Austin after the Convergence, of course–so it was hard, especially when my mom and dad were still kept apart. But…my mom always got me books, and I was obsessed with princesses. I loved the idea of this beautiful girl being swept off her feet by her one true love, whisked away…never quite got over it.”

I squeeze her hand, my chest tightening at the softness in her voice. One true love. Fuck…I love her, I do–but nothing about me is true.

I have to tell her.

Tonight.

Magnolia doesn’t seem to notice the way my grip tightens. She smiles to herself, lost in the memory. “I used to act out the stories in our tiny apartment,” she continues. “Kate wasn’t born yet, and my mom was always exhausted from work at the factory, but she’d let me drape a sheet over the couch and pretend it was my castle.” Her voice dips, wistful. “And my dad…he used to sneak into the city to visit. When I was really little, I didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay with us. Just thought it was some unfair rule the adults wouldn’t explain. In reality, of course, he was with a pack–under the knife sometime.s”

I listen, quiet, my thumb brushing absently over her knuckles.

“One time,” she says, glancing up at me, “he came in the middle of the night, just for an hour. He brought me this plastic tiara from some pre-Convergence thrift shop and told me I was the queen of our castle.” A small laugh escapes her. “I didn’t even want to be a queen, really. Just a princess. Queens sounded like they had too much responsibility.”

I watch her carefully. “And now?”

She lets out a slow breath. “Now I’m…not sure. I still love the idea of love, of fate, of something big and undeniable sweeping in and changing everything.” She glances up at me, the lantern light flickering over her face. “But I don’t want to be saved anymore. I don’t want to be rescued.”

A lump forms in my throat. “You never needed rescuing,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean it to be.

She hums, like she’s considering that. “No,” she agrees after a pause. “But I wanted someone who would.”

The words knock the breath from my chest. I swallow hard, but before I can say anything, she shifts, bumping her shoulder lightly against mine. “What about you?”

I blink. “What about me?”

“When you were little,” she says, tilting her head to look up at me. “What did you want?”

I exhale slowly. “I um…don’t remember much about being little.”

Her smile dims, just a little. “Oh–oh gosh, Colt, I’m sorry. I totally forgot–”

“Yeah, so did I,” I laugh, trying to inject at least some humor into it. “Don’t worry about it, angel. I mean…I figure I was doing nothing but getting into trouble, right?”

Magnolia doesn’t look convinced. She studies me like she’s trying to piece something together, like she can see past the easy grin I just threw up as a shield.

“I guess that tracks,” she says after a pause. “I can’t imagine you as a kid, though. You just appeared fully formed, all big and broody and impossible.”

I smirk. “I like to think I was a charming little bastard.”

She huffs a laugh. “Oh, definitely a bastard.”

I nudge her gently, and she nudges me right back, her eyes flickering. The easy rhythm of the moment settles around us, lulling me into a false sense of security. But that tightness in my chest doesn’t go away. Because this…all of this…feels real. Too real. And I know I have minutes, maybe even seconds, before I wreck it all.

Magnolia squeezes my hand. “You know, I think Lucy would’ve loved you as a kid.”

I tilt my head. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, smiling. “She would’ve seen you getting into trouble and decided on sight that you were her mortal enemy, and then by the end of the day, you’d be her favorite person in the world.”

A low chuckle escapes me. “She does have a strong sense of justice.”

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