Page 55 of Brutal Alpha Bully

Futilely, I scream into the void, more a curse than a hope, “Nora!”

Then somehow, a voice returns to me, small and desperate. Reaching.

“Mom!”

It’s a spark in my chest, like the first time I felt magic inside my body. I can hear the Sorels fighting behind me—Kalen and Dallas, Farris and Soren—but I don’t have time or energy to think about it.

Because I see her.

Nora hangs in the air five feet below me, suspended by shimmering threads of magic that I can see—either from the smoke or from the intensity of the energy. It dances around her like living light, like the glowing algae I’ve seen in videos.

As though the gods themselves decided to reach down and save my daughter from this fate, from falling down the side of the cliff.

I anchor myself on the edge of it and reach for her, calling her name again and again, even though she’s looking at me and reaching for me, too. Her face is pale, and I realize with a start that the magic isn’t coming from the gods.

It’s coming from my daughter.

Her small hands glow with power. A power I didn’t know she had. Through her sheer force of will, she defies gravity. But I can see that her power is fading, the magic beginning to flicker and fade.

Nora is only ten years old, and she’s doing magic I never could have dreamed of at that age. She’s a product of Xeran and me, and I should have known to expect this. Strong genes and stronger willpower.

“Reach for me!” I scream, tears leaking from my face as I strive toward her, feeling at any moment like I could tumble right off this cliff. There’s no magic left within me, but if I need it, I will find it.

I’ll reach right into my soul and take the energy from that.

I may not save myself, but I am going to save my daughter. When her power wanes and she starts to sink down, I throw myself forward, grabbing her wrist as her power gives out. The sudden weight threatens to pull me over the edge, but Felix and Lachlan appear at my sides, grabbing me and hauling Nora and me up over the ledge.

She’s okay. She’s alive. I hold her to me and bury my nose in her hair, sucking in the scent of her—now stronger and smelling of her father, too.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs in a rare moment of sounding her age. She clings to me, and I hug her back hard.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” I say, pressing my lips to the top of her head. I don’t know what she’s saying sorry for—whether it’s for using magic or for the fight we had before she was taken—but none of that matters now. All that matters is that she’s safe. That I have her.

As I catch my breath, scooting away from the edge with my daughter in my arms, I hear growling, the heavy sound of bodies against the ground. Soren and Kalen are shifted and crouched, snarling at Dallas, Farris, and Tanner’s wolves.

With Nora and me safe, Lachlan and Felix turn back, shifting the balance of the fight, putting the Sorel boys at a disadvantage.

And, seeming to realize their position, they slowly begin to back toward the trees. Cowards.

Now that their uncle has gone over the edge, they’re tucking tail and running.

Their uncle, and theirbrother.

Fear races through my heart again, and I’m pushing Nora down, telling her to stay put.

In all the chaos, I haven’t been able to fully process everything. Xeran and Declan went over the side of the ridge—and it would make sense to assume them dead.

But I heard scraping when I was reaching for Nora, the sound of something clinging to the cliff face.

I make it to the edge before the others, and when a great gust of wind moves through, pushing away some of the black smoke, and I see him.

There, hanging from a twisted pine tree just two feet down from the edge, is Xeran, his powerful frame cutting a strong image against the cliff face. He saved my daughter.Ourdaughter. Somehow, Xeran knew exactly what she would do.

Looking at him now, even with the magical strain and the panic of the moment, I realize something.

I’m in love with him—everything about him. And it doesn’t matter to me that I’m not his mate. I’ll fight any other woman who dares to try and take him from me.

“Xeran.” I waste no time in lying on my stomach, reaching my hand out toward him. When he looks up at me, his dark eyes finding mine, it sends a feeling both warm and searing through me. It’s ridiculous in this context, but Iwanthim. “Xeran, take my hand—”

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