Page 31 of Alpha's Twins
This can’t go on.
I have to do something.
If only to get away from all this chaos that is only reflecting my own mind. The fires continue along the mountain border, destructive and deliberate. They seem to spring up out of nowhere, only to cause maximum damage before extinguishing by themselves just as we arrive, and then spring up somewhere else. My patrols often spend hours zigzagging the border, seeing nothing, and getting nowhere.
I know I’m missing something. He’s taunting me. I can practically hear his laughter in the smoke and the ash, feel his presence in the air. He knows how desperate I am to find him, knows I’m running out of time.
I stare up at the house as I yank another vine, this one more stubborn, and I feel the tension in my shoulders, my gut, my chest, refusing to release. I can’t focus on Malik if I’m constantly worried about her, but I can’t focus on her if I don’t know when he’s going to strike. It’s like I’m caught in a trap, and every time I think I’m getting free, it snaps tighter.
The pressure feels too much, like a weight that’s slowly crushing me, but I know I can’t let anyone see how much this is affecting me. I need to be the alpha my pack needs. The alpha Serena needs. Glancing around the garden, I sigh. Thedestruction out here is going to take more than pulling a few vines to sort out, and right now, it feels like too much. I need to get out of here, we both do.
“Serena,” I shout, my voice sharp as I walk inside. “You ready to go?”
I hear movements upstairs, and a moment later, she’s on the landing, looking down at me with surprise.
“Go where?” she asks, her voice tentative.
“Out,” I say, making my way up to her. “Get your things. I’ll be in the truck.”
She hesitates, and I can see the questions in her eyes, the uncertainty, but I turn and head out before she can say anything more. A few moments later, she’s climbing into the truck wordlessly.
“Where are we going?” she asks, but I just start the engine, the roar of it filling the silence.
She sighs, and I catch the faintest hint of a smile on her lips, like she’s amused despite herself. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
We drive through the town, the roads familiar and winding, and I stop at the bakery, pulling up to the curb. “Wait here,” I say, and I’m out of the truck before she can protest.
Inside, the smell of fresh bread and sugar is overwhelming, and I grab a range of pastries, sandwiches, and drinks. The thought of where I intend to go is already lessening some of the tension that has been threatening to consume me all morning.
I pay quickly and head back, the bag warm in my hands. Serena’s waiting, her eyes curious as I hand her a coffee and toss the bag on the seat between us.
We drive out of town, the scenery changing as the road dips and curves. The mountains give way to a series of lakes in the valley, the water glinting under the sun, and I glance at her, gauging her reaction. She’s looking out the window, her expression softening, and I feel a flicker of hope.
“I haven’t seen this part of the island,” she says, almost to herself.
“It’s different,” I reply, keeping my voice casual.
We turn onto a narrow dirt road, barely visible and framed by tall pines. The truck bumps along, and I can tell she’s curious, a quiet anticipation building. We pull up to a small clearing, and I cut the engine, the sudden quiet wrapping around us like a blanket.
“Here?” she asks, her eyes wide as she takes in the secluded spot.
“Yeah,” I say, getting out and grabbing the bag of food. “Come on.”
The path winds down toward the water, hidden from view, and her footsteps are cautious behind me. As we reach the shore, the lake opens up before us. Utterly still and so perfect, it looks like glass, reflecting the blue of the sky and the green of the mountains. A small crescent beach curves around the shore, smooth white pebbles and sand, and the trees crowd close, like they’re trying to keep the whole place a secret.
“Wow,” Serena breathes, her eyes wide with amazement.
I feel something inside me loosen, the tension unwinding just a little. “Thought you’d like it,” I say, and I can’t keep the smile from my face.
“It’s beautiful,” she says. She walks on ahead of me, and I follow, watching as she makes her way toward the water. Thesunlight catches her hair, and she looks back at me, a lightness in her face that I haven’t seen in days. “How did you find this place?”
I settle down on the sand, opening the bag and spreading the food out between us. “My brothers and I used to come here when we were kids,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “When we didn’t want to be found.”
“By whom?” Her voice is soft, careful.
“Ralph, our dad.” I look out at the water, the memory of Ralph as sharp as ever. “He could be a real piece of work.”
She sits beside me. “Just to put it lightly,” I add, and there’s a harshness in my voice I didn’t mean to let slip.
