Page 44 of Cruel Alpha Beast
Jasper and Ellis exchange glances with each other, then with the other two men in the room. Ellis sinks back into his chair in defeat, while Jasper looks more sheepish than I’ve ever seen him in my life.
“Now, I know you guys aren’t happy with us having to work with witches,” I say. “But they’re not exactly thrilled to be working with you, either.”
Ellis huffs, almost as if he’s offended. I’ve never wanted to smack him more in my life, and I’ve hated him for as long as I’ve known him.
“But you know what?” I cock one eyebrow, putting my hands on my hips. “Danielle and Monroe know that helping you all out is for the greater good. They will do whatever is necessary to keep their community and their home safe. Maybe you should think about your packs like that for a second, instead of letting some stupid generational conflict get in the way.”
Jasper looks down at the floor, ashamed of himself after hearing what I’ve had to say. Even stubborn old Ellis can’t meet my eyes.
Greg and Sawyer, however, both look at me like they’re so proud of me for speaking my mind. Despite all that’s happened today, Sawyer’s lips curl into a smile, and his eyes sparkle under the kitchen light.
“So,” I sigh, feeling much more confident, “who wants pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?”
***
I only know that I fell asleep last night because I woke up in the morning. I roll onto my side and see that the bed beside me is empty, and Sawyer is rummaging through his chest of drawers, naked as the day he was born. For a moment, I drink in his muscular form, forgetting all that’s at stake.
But as my mind catches up with the rest of me, I remember just how dire things are these days. Life as I know it could end any second now, though the people I love and care for—and even the people I still don’t particularly like—are going to figure this all out soon.
As Sawyer changes into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I throw a bathrobe on over my nightgown and go downstairs to start working on breakfast. Greg and Jasper are getting dressed, just like Sawyer was when I left him, while Ellis is still snoring in the middle of the living room floor.
I turn the coffee maker on and get to cooking, happy I have something to do with my hands. My anxiety is through the roof, and I don’t think it will get any better until I know that Danielle and Monroe have made it through the night without getting attacked, or worse.
I send a quick text to my group chat with them and say that I hope they’re all right, and my phone finally chirps back at me as I start piling up pancakes on a plate by the stove.
We’re good—getting ready for the meeting, Monroe says, allowing me to breathe in deeply.Will you be there?
I’m about to respond that I’ll see them later when a small figure comes scurrying into the kitchen. It’s Shea, and her bedhead is the worst I’ve ever seen from her before.
“Well, hello there,” I tell her. “Did the rats nesting in your hair wake you up?”
“Why is Uncle Greg in here?” she asks, ignoring my question completely.
“Oh,” I start, hoping to figure out an answer she can handle. “Daddy just had a little sleepover with his friends. Do you want to help me cook for the boys?”
Shea nods and comes up to me with her arms raised high. I reach under her armpits and lift her up to sit on a clear portion of the counter. I give her the oven mittens to wear for safety, smiling as they go down to her elbows, her tiny hands pressed into the space where my fingers would go.
“Morning, Shea,” Greg says as he enters the kitchen, bleary-eyed and groggy-sounding. “Nice hair.”
“Morning, Uncle Greg!” she replies cheerfully.
“Oh, it’s so wonderful how loud you are first thing in the morning,” he says sarcastically, half-stumbling over his feet on his way to the table.
Shea smiles mischievously, and while I’m somewhat entertained by this exchange, I know exactly what will happen if I don’t nip this in the bud immediately—the whole street will wake up before dawn to a shouting four-year-old.
I catch Shea’s eye and shake my head, pressing the side of my finger into my lips.
The others file into the kitchen, and I get Shea off the counter so she can help me hand out breakfast plates to the alphas and Greg. They all eat and slurp down their coffee in relative silence while I cut up some pancakes for my daughter, feeling too sick to eat myself.
“Sun’s coming up soon,” Sawyer mentions, gazing out the window. “You guys ready to go?”
“Go where?” Shea asks me curiously.
“Um, Daddy and his friends are going tosay hito Auntie Dani and Auntie RoeRoe,” I tell her carefully.
“I want to go!” she cries.
“Me too, sweet pea,” I croon back at her. “But you and I are going to stay here and have a girls' day. How about that?”
