Page 14 of Alpha’s Twins (Alpha Kings Island #3)

I’m reluctant to open my eyes because the warmth of my dream is so inviting. So all-consuming. A dream or a memory? I’m not sure of anything but his strong hands on my body, the pleasure rising and peaking, the way his large body trembled with release.

I want it all again and again, but at the same time, I don’t want to face the reality of what it means.

And when I do open my eyes, the reality is so much worse than I could have imagined.

In the cold light of day, I can really take in the damage done by the vines that crashed through the window.

Although the flowers are beautiful and still in full bloom, there are so many that the room feels suffocating, and the vines have caused such a mess.

And worst of all…the bed is empty and cold where Aiden should be.

I feel hollow inside as I lie here alone.

I touch the sheets where he should be, pressing my hand into them as if I could will him back, but they’re icy.

He obviously slipped out hours ago. The room smells of sweet flowers and the earth, but there’s a heaviness in the air that is undeniable.

It’s the weight of uncertainty, of what happened last night and what it means—the fear it may mean nothing at all.

I wrap myself in the blanket and pull my knees to my chest, staring at the flowers.

They’re so vivid, so alive. They mock me with their vibrancy, as if saying, look how we thrive while you wither.

I can’t even stand to look at them anymore.

I get up and gather my discarded clothes, each movement sluggish and heavy, like I’m wading through a dream that’s turned into a nightmare.

I glance around for any sign that he might come back, some note or message, but there’s nothing.

He just left. I look back at the flowers, at the vines spiraling through the window, and I feel ashamed.

I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t control myself.

I leave it all behind and run back down the hall to my room, heading for the bathroom.

The tiles are cold against my feet as I step inside and close the door behind me.

I turn on the shower, letting the water heat up while I catch my reflection in the mirror for the first time.

My hair is wild, a tangled mess of curls, and my eyes look different.

Brighter, maybe. I touch my face, but it feels like a stranger’s skin. I feel different all over.

The steam fills the small room, and I willingly step into it, letting it consume me.

The water is too hot and stings at first, but then it feels good, too good, and I have to brace myself against the wall.

I feel everything so intensely, every drop, every breath.

I try not to think about last night, about the way he touched me, the way I let myself come apart.

I try not to think about how much he obviously regrets being with me now.

I try not to let the shame envelop me completely.

The water finally runs cold, and my skin is pink and wrinkled when I step out, wrapping myself in a towel.

I dry off slowly, the heaviness still there, lingering in my bones like a bruise.

I dress, pulling on a comfortable pink sweater, and head downstairs.

The house is quiet, as if holding its breath.

I try to ignore the way the silence presses down on me as I head to the kitchen.

Maybe some food will help to fill the emptiness that has settled within me.

I open the fridge and stare at the contents, but nothing looks remotely appetizing. I close it and lean against the counter, my hands gripping the edge until my knuckles turn white.

Then I hear the door open and close. Footsteps.

I brace myself, hoping it’s him, and at the same time, fearing it.

Aiden appears, and my heart lurches. He’s flushed, and at first, I think he’s been running, but then I notice the tools in his hand, the bundle of wood under his arm.

He’s going to fix the window. The one I broke with my magic.

He stops when he sees me, and for a moment, we just stand there, the awkwardness feeling like a living, breathing thing between us. “Do you need help?” I finally ask, my voice sounding small even to me.

He shakes his head and looks around the kitchen. “You should eat,” he says finally, “You look a bit pale.”

With that, he turns and just walks away, and I’m left standing in the kitchen feeling like the biggest idiot ever.

I knew he didn’t want me, but why did I fall for it?

Now I feel even worse. I hear the sound of the vines being torn down upstairs, and I can’t bear it any longer.

I head toward the back door and step out into the fresh air, breathing it in and trying to ignore the world around me.

Looking toward the trees, I feel pulled to the forest in a way I usually don’t.

Shifters always talk about how much their wolves want to run and be free, but having no wolf, I’ve just never felt that pull…

until now. Maybe it’s just the need to be far away from Aiden, the consequences of my magic, and our actions.

Whatever it is, I follow it through the tree line and onto the trails that crisscross the forest on the edge of town.

The forest is cool and quiet. I walk faster, the leaves crunching under my feet in a comforting rhythm.

The further I go, the lighter I feel, like I’m shedding the weight of everything that happened.

My pulse quickens with a heady rush of energy.

It tingles beneath my skin, and for the first time since I woke up this morning, I don’t feel like I’m drowning.

For a little while, I almost forget how broken I feel by everything.

Suddenly, a thin stem curls upward, tickling my ankle, and a burst of daisies unfurls at my feet.

I laugh out loud, a sound that feels foreign but good, and keep moving.

The colors are dazzling, more vivid than anything I’ve ever created before.

I brush past a tree, and it blooms with clusters of wisteria, the perfume heavy and sweet.

It’s as if the whole forest is coming alive in my wake, a riot of petals and leaves almost chasing me along the trail.

I run now, exhilarated, watching the world transform around me.

My magic feels so powerful, more so than I’ve ever felt it.

I’m not even trying, not even reaching for it, and yet the ground is now carpeted with flowers.

I spin, arms outstretched, and a whirlwind of blossoms swirls around me. It’s beautiful and intoxicating.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it starts to feel like too much.

The vines grow faster, the flowers bloom brighter, wilder.

I stop, trying to catch my breath, and I realize I’m not in control.

The forest is pulsing with my energy, but it’s not listening to me.

Just like last night, when I felt everything so intensely, and the vines crashed through Aiden’s window.

I feel my emotions spinning out of control, and as I look around, I realize the forest is simply mirroring the turmoil I feel inside.

I stand still, willing myself to calm down, to breathe, to focus. I try to pull it back, to pull myself back. I close my eyes against the chaos, trying to quiet everything, to make it stop. I can do this. I have to do this.

I take a deep, shaking breath and try to remember what I did last night, what I felt before it all spiraled.

I focus on the warmth, the good feelings, the way his touch made me feel safe, wanted, even if just for a moment.

I focus on the way he made my body sing instead of scream—another breath.

I reach for that feeling again, the peace, the control, and I can feel the smallest shift.

The vines slow, the flowers still, the colors become less blinding. I keep my eyes closed, keep breathing, and slowly, everything starts to settle. I keep reaching, keep holding on, until the world around me is calm and quiet.

When I finally open my eyes, the forest is beautiful.

Soft and serene. The vines sway gently in the breeze, and the flowers are bright but not overwhelming.

The ground is a lush carpet of greens and purples and reds, and I can hardly believe it.

I did this. I actually did all this. I stare in wonder at the scene in front of me, and for the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of pride again.

It reminds me of when my store started to really become successful—it quiets the voice in my head that says I’m not enough.

I move through the forest again, slower now, taking it all in.

It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also more than that.

It’s a reminder of everything I can be, of everything I’ve been afraid to be.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here, but the sun is higher in the sky, and a cool breeze picks up, rustling the leaves.

I’m suddenly aware of how deep in the forest I’ve come. How far I’ve wandered.

I stop and look around, trying to find the trail, but nothing looks familiar.

The trees and vines are so thick now that I can barely see the path anymore.

I turn in circles, panic starting to rise again.

The mountains loom above the treetops, and I realize I’ve gone much deeper than I intended.

I don’t know which way to go. I don’t know how to get back.

The wind whistles through the branches, a low, eerie sound that sends a shiver down my spine.

The air shifts, and although beautiful, the forest suddenly feels less inviting.

I have the strangest sense that I’m not alone, that I’m being watched.

I spin, searching for something, someone, but there’s only the thick wall of trees and the unsettling silence.

I start to run, the panic making my movements seem more clumsy than usual. The bloom-laden branches whip at my face and arms, catching in my hair, snagging at my clothes. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I need to move. I need to get out of here.

The wind picks up out of nowhere, and it almost sounds like it’s laughing at me, a high-pitched whistle that echoes through the trees. I stop again, chest heaving, and the sense of being watched is overwhelming now. It creeps along my skin like a thousand tiny insects.

Something shifts in the shadows beyond the trail, and I whirl to face it, heart pounding so loud I can barely hear anything else.

There’s a flash of movement, too quick for me to see clearly, but it’s enough to send me running again.

I don’t even try to control my magic this time.

The vines erupt around me, wild and frantic, as if they’re trying to protect me, to hide me from whatever is out there.

I wish I could shift. If I weren’t so useless, I’d shift, and my wolf would know what to do. I’d be strong, I could fight.

A voice cuts through the chaos, deep and unexpected. “Serena.”

I stumble to a halt as Aiden and his patrol come crashing through the trees, the sudden sight of them stealing my breath.

They’re all wide-eyed, staring at me, the flowers, and the chaos. I must look like a wild thing, hair tangled with leaves, eyes bright with fear. The betas exchange glances, mouths open in shock. Aiden’s face is a mix of anger and something else, something raw and fierce.

“Serena,” he yells again, his voice cutting through the stillness. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe. The relief of seeing them, of seeing him, is overwhelming, but it’s tangled with shame and confusion. I just stand there, frozen.

He strides toward me, and the other shifters hang back, unsure. They’re all looking at the flowers, at the way the forest seems to pulse around me.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” Aiden grabs my arm, his grip tight but not painful. “Malik is out here, Serena. He could have—” His voice breaks off, and the fear in his tone is unmistakable.

“I-I…” I trail off, not knowing how to explain any of this.

His eyes soften slightly, but only slightly, and he reaches for me, pulling me closer. “Let’s just get you home, okay?”

I nod, determined not to let his betas see how wrecked I feel inside, despite how evident my turmoil is reflected in the forest around me. Something about the word ‘home’ settles me enough to let Aiden walk me back down one of the trails toward the town.

Home. I can pretend, at least.