Page 13 of Brutal Alpha Bully

I would never hurt her.

Well, not more than I already have.

Everything about her is just the same. Everything about her is entirely different. That blond hair is the exact same shade, but flows down her back. Long enough that when she pushes it over her shoulder, it rests on her chest, rising and falling with her breath. I want to twist it around my fingers, grip it in the palm of my hand.

Her scent is exactly what I remember—sweet, subtle, light. Something you have to chase, to immerse yourself in. I remember wrapping it around my body back then, when we were in the secret, quiet glow of one another.

As I could see in the video, she’s not quite as skinny as she used to be. Her form is more filled out, her hips and chest fuller.There’s a supple quality to her skin that makes me want to take a bite out of her, swallow her whole.

If she were any other woman, and if I were any other man, I would be picking her up right now, begging her to let me take her to bed.

But she’s not just any woman. And apparently, she’s moved on.

Of course, I know the way we left things wasn’t right. But with the way my mind lingered on her, with the way she’s filled my thoughts, I’d assumed she wouldn’t be able to think about another man, much the same way I haven’t been able to really think about another woman.

But clearly, she has. She moved on with someone else. Had his child.

That makes a thought occur to me for the first time: if she was with another shifter—with another alpha, especially—then where the hell is he? Why wasn’t he protecting her? How the fuck did he allow Declan to get his hands on her?

Glancing at her again, I wonder if her partner may have died in the fire that took her home. But I don’t see the etchings of grief on her face. Only determination.

So, I ask again, “Where is your daughter, Seraphina?”

“I can bring her here,” she says, eyes flicking up to mine. A challenge there, and I realize why. She means she can bring her here usingmagic.

“Absolutely not,” I snap, shaking my head and turning on my heel back toward the truck. Curiosity and jealousy are raging inside me, but more than that, I just want to make sure her daughter is okay. “Just tell me where she is.”

“I’m not exactly sure where she is,” Seraphina says, crossing her arms and popping out a hip in a way that reminds me of what she was like in high school, so flippant all the time. “And if we take your truck, it will take days to find her. Days to bring her back.”

My mouth goes dry at the sound of that—the realization of just how powerful Seraphina is with her magic. I’d pushed it out of my mind, not wanting to think about it, and everything that happened all those years ago.

But of course, the moment I’m back in Silverville, the town just has to shove it right back into my face.

I clench my jaw hard enough that pain shoots up into my temple, giving me an instant headache. “Fine,” I relent, stepping back from her and holding my hands up. “This is theonlytime, Seraphina. And don’t start any fucking fires.”

Her gaze blares, and she raises her hands at me. It’s not even threatening, but for some reason, it makes a thrill run up my spine. Half adrenaline, half morbid curiosity.

Magic is not allowed. My father—and my grandfather—made that perfectly clear in their tenets for the pack. And what happened nearly more than a decade ago with Seraphina and the other girls is a perfect example of why banning it was the right call.

Seraphina glowers at me, then turns and takes a deep breath, looking out into the driveway and raising her hands as though she’s conducting an orchestra only she can see.

Then a car blinks into the driveway. Gone one second, and there the next. Summoned into being as though it has always existed in that space.

I try not to show on my face how impressed I am, how much her show of power affects me. I’d only seen it once, back when we were kids, and it was enough to make me feel small and powerless beside her.

Something I am definitely not used to feeling.

“Mom!”

A little form pops open the passenger seat and comes running toward Seraphina, who is already moving in the direction of the car. They collide in the middle, throwing their arms around each other.

The girl is older than I thought, or maybe just big for her age. She’s wearing a pair of dark denim shorts and a striped shirt, her sneakers smudged with what I recognize as daemonic ash—all that’s left after a daemonic fire. Her blond hair is a mirror of Seraphina’s.

In fact, everything about her is a mirror of Seraphina, from her posture to the way her eyes slide suspiciously over her mother’s shoulder and onto me. Her assessment begins immediately, and I feel her scrutiny like something palpable. Something I try to swat away.

“Who is that?” she whispers, pulling back from her mother.

“He’s… an old friend of mine.” Seraphina turns and looks over her shoulder at me, and I see the lie settle there. She and I were a lot of things, but I’m not surefriendever quite fit. “And we’re going to stay here for a while.”

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