Page 25 of Brutal Alpha Beast
I hate the way it makes me feel when he gets close.
I swallow. Where’s all my bravery from this morning gone? I felt in control then, when I was showing everyone how the spells would work.
But now, I feel like the witch I was all those years ago, hiding herself in a pack full of shifters who hate her.
“It’s not that hard to find,” I say.
There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, and I take a step back from him. It’s not that I’m scared—maybe I should be? He’s a tall, powerful Alpha, and we’re alone together in the woods.
But I’m powerful, I remind myself. I’m also strong.
“It sort of is,” he counters, “we’re deep in the woods, past any obvious paths, and from the other side of the shed, it’s not exactly obvious that there’s space back here.”
My chest freezes. I hate how close he’s getting to the truth.
“I was walking around the woods, and I stumbled upon it. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes,” he says.
“What exactly do you think I’m doing, then?” I ask him, irritated. “What could I possibly be out here for?”
The truth of why I’m out here, hanging around our old favorite spot, is not particularly exciting. The reason I’m here is that I was curious about what it would look like after all these years.
Would the shed still be intact? The trees in place? Could it have been turned into something else?
The idea came to me earlier this morning when we were tending to the trees in the woodland. I thought, what if I just slip off for a few moments to check?
But in broad daylight, it would have been too obvious. It would have looked suspicious—just the way it’s looking to Ellis now.
But why the hell ishehere?
“I don’t know what you’re doing,” he mutters, grumpily matching my irritation. “I don’t understand a lot of what you do, but this place is not somewhere you just stumble upon.”
While I sort of understand his suspicion, it irritates the hell out of me because all I’ve done since I’ve been here is help him. I haven’t caused any problems or cast any spells that mightendanger his pack, although it seems that’s what he keeps trying to accuse me of.
It’s ignorance; it comes from the place where he holds his prejudice toward witches, and it pisses me off.
“Just because you’re an Alpha doesn’t mean you know everything,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
My eyes begin to adjust, and I see him more clearly. He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt, which contrasts with his deep burgundy eyes. His symmetrical, well-defined face is only making me angrier.
I bet he takes girls here—I bet this is the spot he takes all his she-wolves.
I go to turn, but then I stop.
“You know I’m sick of you questioning me like this,” I say. “I know this isn’t a real marriage, but we need some sort of trust. Didn’t I just help your pack out this morning? Or have you forgotten that already?”
“You did,” he agrees. “And I appreciated that. I’m pretty sure, I told you so.”
“And now you’re accusing me.”
“What do you think I’m accusing you of?”
“You tell me!” I exclaim. “You’re the accuser.”
