Page 26 of Cruel Alpha Beast
His words feel like a rusty blade in my belly. I wonder just how much he knows about the night Lacey fled into the trees. I know they’ve kept in contact for a long time, but I don’t know how much she’s said to him. Does he know how awful to her I was? Does he know how much I’ve changed since then?
“It’s fine,” I reply. “You don’t need to apologize to me. You were looking out for your sister. I respect that more than you’ll ever know.”
“Thanks.” Greg nods his head back at me, his tired eyes glistening.
“I want you to know, man, I will protect Lacey and Shea to the ends of the earth,” I tell him. “I promise.”
Greg nods slower. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot.”
“You’ve got it.” I give him a half-smile. “And now you have to promise me you’ll get some rest, okay?”
A heavy exhale escapes from Greg’s nostrils. “I’ll do my best.”
We both stood up at the same time. I reach over and clap him on the back. Greg looks like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. There’s more of a bounce in his step as he walks through the hallway and goes down the stairs. It’s like I’m getting my friend back after all of this time, piece by piece.
When we reach the main lobby, Greg turns over his shoulder to me. “You want to come by my place? Hang out a bit?”
Just as I’m about to say yes, something catches my eye. The tapestry of the burning tree draws me into its orbit, and I almost forget where I am.
“I’m going to have to take a rain check,” I tell Greg, tearing my eyes away from the tapestry. “But we’ll hang out soon, just the two of us, I promise.”
Greg glances over to where I was staring before, then nods his head at me, a curious look in his eye. “Alright, man. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Bye.”
I wave, standing there in the middle of the lobby, watching Greg’s figure retreat toward the front door. Once he’s stepped through and disappeared from my sight, I turn back toward the tapestry.
My eyes trace over every line, every shape of the artwork. From the clouds of smoke rising from the burning branches to the wave cresting in its direction. But no matter how long I stare, I still have no more answers.
“When the willow is afire, wash it down with your desire.”
My heart jumping inside of my chest, I turn quickly toward the sound of the voice. My father approaches slowly, coming to stand at my side. I must have been so sucked into the tapestry that I didn’t hear him coming.
“You scared the shit out of me, Dad,” I tell him.
“Sorry,” he says, patting my shoulder. “Boy, I haven’t looked at this old thing in some time.”
I turn and watch my father gaze at the tapestry. His chest fills with air, deflating with a loud noise coming from his mouth.
“That line,” I mutter. “The one about the willow tree. What does it mean?”
“Oh, come on, Sawyer, it’s from some nonsense bedtime story my grandfather told you.”
The way my dad scoffs makes me think that he really doesn’t consider the line much more than just that.
“Well, I don’t remember the story,” I reply.
My dad sucks in a deep breath and rolls his eyes. “You’re really going to ask me to tell you?”
“I’ll pull rank if I have to,” I say it like it’s a joke, but I’m one hundred percent serious.
My father snickers and shakes his head back and forth. “Maybe I was too quick to cede power to you.”
I fold my arms across my chest, then cock my head toward the tapestry.
“Alright, alright,” my dad sighs. “So,once upon a time, back when there was unity between the wolves and witches in the area we call home, a shifter mated with one of the witches. They were in love, and all that stuff, but the witch wanted to take over the valley, so the shifter turned against her. He then found a new mate, a woman born to shifters who could not shift herself—not unlike that new wife of yours.”
My stomach flutters at the thought of Lacey. If this shiftless wolf in my dad’s story was anything like her, then she must have been gorgeous.
