Page 43 of Brutal Alpha Bully

“Alright,” I say as we emerge from the dark of the parking ramp and into the bright Denver sunshine. “Who’s hungry?”

“That depends,” Nora says, eyeing me after our conversation on Denver’s most well-known cuisines. “What are we having?”

Phina bursts into laughter at the idea that I might force us to go out and try Rocky Mountain oysters, and I steer the truck toward downtown, where I’ve booked us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town.

As we’re seated, I think about all the times I came with my dad here, eating at this very restaurant and talking to the Denver alpha supreme, a much older man with a lot more territory to worry about than us.

When my father started bringing me and none of my other brothers to those meetings, it only made tensions worse between us.

“Order whatever you want,” I say, watching as Phina’s eyes widen at the prices on the menu. It’s not like I could afford to—or would want to—eat here every day, but I’ve always felt comfortable spending a bit more on special occasions.

When the waiter comes, Nora says proudly, “I willnotbe having the oysters. I’ll have the chicken tenders, please.”

Phina and I share a look, and I wonder if I’m getting a taste of something I could have with them. Maybe even something I could have with them here, in Colorado, in Silverville. Trips to Denver together.

And maybe one day, I’d even be bringing Nora here to meet with the Denver alpha supreme, teaching her about diplomacy and the sharing of resources. Teaching her the same things my father taught me.

When the waiter walks away with our menus and I realize what I’ve just been thinking about, something hits me. I won’t be bringing Nora here and talking to her about being the alpha supreme if that’s not the role I occupy.

Once again, the wolf inside me bucks against my rib cage, insisting that it’s what I want. That I should challenge Declan and take the title.

But I left Silverville all those years ago because I decided fighting for it was the last thing I wanted.

“Steak for the gentleman,” the server says, breaking me out of my thoughts as he slides a plate in front of me.

I force myself to pay attention to Phina and Nora, to spend this time with them even as those ideas lurk in the back of my mind, waiting for their moment to come to the front again.

***

When we get back to the hotel, Phina surprises me by leaving Nora and me alone as she steps into the bathroom, saying the bathtub is too good for her not to take a bath.

It’s the first time she’s clearly and obviously left me with her daughter, and it tells me that something is changing. That she’s opening up to me. Starting to trust me.

And maybe if I show her that she can trust me more, she’ll get closer to telling me the truth about Nora.

Although, that could just be my own wishful thinking. A hope that Nora could still somehow belong to me, despite there being no evidence that she does.

Nora and I sit across from each other at the table, setting up the pieces for the new chessboard I got her while we were shopping. Pink and purple, it’s not exactly a traditional set, but I’d find myself thinking that it might look good in her bedroom.

If she had a bedroom, at my dad’s place.

Myplace.

“Xeran?”

I startle, nearly knocking over the king when Nora says my name softly, pulling me from my thoughts. When I look up and find her gaze, those intense eyes are on me.

The same color as mine. It’s impossible to ignore.

“Yes?” I ask, my heart starting to thud a bit harder as my instincts kick in, and I get the feeling that this conversation might be something serious. That Nora is about to tell me something important.

She’s quiet for a moment, adjusting her pawns so they’re all perfectly lined up. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Would she know if I was her father? How could she possibly know? Did she see my eyes reflected in her own, or did Phina tell her? Does Noraknowwho her father is? If it’s an alpha just moving through town, like Phina said? Has Nora ever met him?

“Of course,” I say, though maybe I shouldn’t respond like that. Maybe she shouldn’t be telling me secrets. But I can’t resist the idea of finding out more.

“My mom doesn’t know,” Nora says, picking up the box to the chessboard and setting it on the ground, then looking up at me with bright eyes. I realize that she reminds me of the little girl fromAnnie—both incredibly young and incredibly smart at once. Tough and scrappy. A fighter.

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