Page 37 of Cruel Alpha Beast
“Sneg?” Shea laughs louder at this than it deserves. “That’s a silly name.”
“A silly name for a silly boy,” I reply. “Anyway, Sneg had a sister who was different from all the other wolves in the pack.”
“What was her name?” Shea interrupts.
“Snacey,” I tell her, making her laugh even harder. “Snacey was very beautiful, but people were still mean to her. Including the smartest, fastest, handsomest wolf in the whole pack. And before you ask, his name was—”
“Snawyer?”
I turn around and see Lacey leaning against the door jamb. She’s removed the towel from her head, letting her rumpled, damp hair hang over her shoulder. One of hereyebrows sits high on her forehead, her lips twisted into a crooked smile.
“No, Lacey, itwasn’t,” I correct her playfully. “His name was Magnus T. Rutherford, and he was the most powerful wolf of all.”
Lacey rolls her eyes, but doesn’t say another word.
“Anyway,” I turn back to Shea, who’s listening raptly, “Magnus T. Rutherford was very strong and very smart, but also very full of himself. That means he thought he was a lot better than everyone else. Andthatmeans that sometimes he wasn’t very nice.”
Shea frowns at this, and it breaks my heart even further.
“Magnus thought Snacey was very pretty and wanted to spend time with her, but he was afraid of what people would say. If Snacey was so weird, then maybe people would think Magnus was weird, too. So, he started being even meaner to Snacey, even though he loved her very much.”
“That’s bad,” Shea says.
My heart sinks. “Oh, I know.”
“Why was he mean to her?” she asks.
“Because even though Magnus T. Rutherford thought he was brave, he really wasn’t,” I tell her. “When they got a little older, Magnus did something so mean to Snacey that she left their pack and didn’t come back home for many years. But when she came home, she brought along a beautiful, wonderful, artistic daughter named Snea.”
“And they lived happily ever after?” Shea fills in quizzically.
I turn back to Lacey, whose look of amusement has turned into one of genuine interest.
“One can only hope,” I murmur down to Shea. “Okay, sweetheart. Time to go to sleep.”
“Wait!” the little girl cries out. “Night-night kisses?”
“Uh…” I turn to Lacey, who shrugs her shoulders. “Sure.”
And with that, I lean over and give her a soft peck on the forehead, just like my mother used to do to me when I was her age. Shea smiles up at me, then nestles deeper into her bed, closing her eyes to get ready to sleep.
Lacey reaches over to the light switch and flicks it off as I cross the bedroom and meet her in the doorway. I turn the knob behind me and stare down at Lacey, whose eyes are glistening again.
Before I can say a word, she takes my hand and pulls me down the stairs after her. Her fingers intertwine with mine, her skin warm and comforting. All I can do is follow and wonder what awaits me on the ground floor.
She doesn’t stop walking until we reach the middle of the living room floor. Lacey turns around to face me, but before she can say anything, I reach up with my free hand and stroke a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I need to say something,” I murmur to her. “Lacey, I cannot even begin to express how sorry I am for how I treated you all of these years. I was awful, and you deserved so much better. From everyone, but especially me.”
She nods, sniffling as her tears finally fall. “Thank you,Magnus T. Rutherford.”
I can’t help but laugh, despite the sincerity of this conversation. “You’re welcome, Snacey.”
“I accept your apology,” Lacey whispers. She grabs my face and pulls it closer to hers, capturing my lips in a tender kiss that makes me woozy.
Blood rushes through my veins, and soon I feel a heat rising up within me. She’s so close, and Shea is falling asleep as we stand here. Perhaps tonight, we can take this to the couch. Maybe even my bed.
But then Lacey’s phone starts chirping from the coffee table, where she left it earlier. The sound repeats itself over and over, annoyingly consistent. It’s a call. We separate reluctantly. Lacey makes an apologetic face, then reaches down to see who’s calling her.
