Page 13 of Brutal Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #2)

Somehow, what started off as a cold, awkward relationship—if you could even call it that—between Danielle and me has transformed into something else.

We’re not avoiding each other anymore. We’re both super busy trying to figure out how we can stop the valley from being destroyed, but when we are in the house together, we eat and talk.

We even flirt, unless that’s just in my head.

Something changed after that life-threatening experience.

I know it has to do with the kiss, which must mean she feels some sort of attraction to me, too. I’d never thought that I could ever feel this way about a witch, but she’s either got me spellbound, or she’s different.

Special.

After a council meeting this morning, a training session, and the coordination of a witch/wolf allied meet-up, I finally, for the first time in a while, have a free afternoon.

Usually, during a time like this, I’d head over to my secret spot. My brain needs some space from my duties and rattling, adrenaline-filled thoughts.

There’s a threat looming over our shoulders, potentially worse than we’ve ever experienced before.

You’d think I’d want to be alone.

But all I can think about is Danielle.

I know that she’s in one of three places: the cabin, the coven, or the library.

Make that four: sometimes the woods.

But all I have to do is scent her out a little, before I realize that she’s in our pack’s library, sorting through research and books.

I’m attuned to her scent now. I’m ashamed to admit that it makes my dick hard. Sometimes I’ll get a waft of it in the house, or while I’m in a council meeting, and all I can think about is touching her ass and her lips again.

Today, Danielle has her curls tied up in a knot above her head. Her cheeks are flushed from the warmth—no wonder, considering the amount of time she’s spent in the stuffy library looking through books. Surprise, surprise, she’s also the only person here.

She’s wearing a strapless sundress that’s crystal blue and covered in yellow daisies. Her green eyes are glowing as she sits at one of the tables, scanning the pages of a large, dusty book.

I tense. The whole library smells like her. I’m trying not to be an ass and tell myself I won’t look at her body, but my wolf has other ideas.

She lifts her head when she sees me come in, and I steal a quick glance, noticing the way her breasts fill her dress.

My wolf is hungry.

“Hey,” she says. “Come to help me research?”

“Considering how long I had that tapestry and couldn’t find shit, and how long it took you to reveal its second image, I didn’t think you’d want my help.”

She sighs, closing the large book in front of her. “Well, I’ve been researching the significance of vines in both our cultures all afternoon, and I’m even more confused than I was before.”

“Can’t you just cast a spell to extract the information that you need?”

She cocks her head. “Really?”

I raise my hands jokingly as I walk toward her. “Hey, I don’t know how this magic stuff works.”

She raises her eyebrow. “Exactly.”

Given that we’re trying to stop a curse created by a witch, I figure I probably should know how it works, at least a little. But after years of rejecting anything remotely magical, my reluctance is still there. No matter how cute Danielle is.

“Fair point,” I say, sitting down beside her.

We have a library, but unless for school work, the pack doesn't use it much. Go figure that reading through ancient texts isn’t exactly high on a werewolf’s list.

We get too antsy.

Antsy like how I am now beside her, drowning in her sweet scent.

“All right,” I say, leaning closer. “Hit me with the best theory you’ve got.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “You seriously want to help?”

“No one said anything about want . But I hate seeing you hauled up in this old library, figuring this out alone. So hit me.”

I’m conscious that we’re so close, our knees are practically touching, and yet neither of us moves away.

She rests her chin on her palms; her whole body is angled toward me. “Okay,” she says. “So, what if the vines represent a bond, like between the wolves and witches? What if coming together somehow leads to fire and chaos?”

I squint a little as I digest her words. Then I smile.

She nudges my chest with her hand. “What? Are you making fun of me? You told me to hit you with what I got.”

I shrug. “You definitely hit me.”

She cranes her neck. “Oh, come on. Is it that crazy? Perhaps it’s our union that has sparked this fire, which in turn will bring chaos. Maybe Willow is drawing on that.”

She pauses.

“Why are you laughing?”

I can’t help it. Danielle may be a badass witch, but sometimes, she doesn’t know how funny she can be.

“So you’re basically saying that our coming together has sparked the next curse, and that we should stay apart, otherwise we’re all going to die? That’s some pretty paranoid, self-involved shit, even coming from a witch.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s just a theory. What else has changed as of late?”

“The forest has been decaying for a while,” I counter.

“True,” she concedes. “But there weren’t any shadow monsters. Those things came when we were together... arguing, of course.”

“So we should stop arguing,” I say.

She shakes her head, pushes her chair back, and stands up. “I’m going to get another book.”

I watch as her hips sway, fixated on the gentle slope of her back and her exposed neck. She’s walking with purpose, as though she’s frustrated, or mad—it’s hard not to want to rile her up.

She returns with another large book. This one is based on werewolf folklore, and she slams it down on the table. Dust sprays from all sides, making me cough.

“Sorry,” she says. “But damn, you guys need to read more.”

I lean back in my chair, watching as she frowns, pretending to read, but I know I’m throwing her off.

“Wanna know what I think?” I ask her.

She inhales deeply. “Sure.”

“I think that the tapestry always tells us what to do as opposed to what we’re doing wrong. If the vines represent our bond, so to speak, I think it shows us working together to defeat the curse. I think it says we should get along.”

She looks genuinely shocked. “Do you now? You think werewolves and witches should ‘get along’?”

“We’ve gotten along pretty well at times, haven’t we?”

I’m thinking of our kiss—the way she melted in my arms. From the rosy color spreading across Danielle’s cheeks, I can tell that she’s thinking of it, too.

“Look,” she says. “The vines being a bond was just a theory, I don’t know.

Vines can represent many different things, such as danger, cooperation, and bones.

And then you look at witch folklore, and they mean nature, connection, but then you look into some other texts, and they can represent poison.

Maybe the bright light was the important part—maybe we’re supposed to shine magic on the earth. ”

“And that’s what we’ve been doing, right? With the solution?”

She nods. “Yes, I suppose.”

She flicks through the book, and I watch her. While I’m donning a relaxed demeanor, I’m thinking about what she said. What if coming together is catastrophic? What if the shadow demons had never come out if it weren’t for us bickering?

They didn’t come for anyone else.

“Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to read something?” She suddenly mutters beneath her breath.

I smile. “Trying to boss me around again?”

“Hey, you came in here looking to help.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Sure.”

I get up and grab a random book, the closest thing I can find. My mind is basically fried at this point of such a busy day, and there’s only one thing I can think about.

I should leave, but my wolf wants to be around her, even if we’re just reading. Correction, pretending to read.

She glances sideways at my book. “The history of horticulture?”

I shrug. “It could help.”

After a little while, she lets out a long sigh and stops.

It worries me that I could spend so long in her presence doing nothing and not get bored. It’s like I’m bewitched. Maybe I am.

She turns to me, and I lower my riveting horticulture book.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She groans, exasperated. The expression on her face, so unbelievably adorable.

“Because you’re working yourself up for no reason. It’s okay if you don’t figure it out today.”

She smiles a little. “Since when did you become so patient?”

“You think I’m not patient?”

“I mean, you’re an Alpha wolf, you’re not supposed to be, are you?”

“I’ve gotten better,” I say. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’ve helped.”

I don’t know where that came from, but I meant it. The words poured out before I could get them to stop.

She opens her mouth a little, like she wants to say something—then stops. Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip, and she looks away, pretending to skim the page again. But I can tell she’s not reading. Her fingers aren’t even turning the page. They’re just resting there, motionless.

“Danielle,” I say quietly.

She looks back at me.

“Some things are just hard to explain, don’t you think?”

We sit there in silence for a brief moment, a tense air settling over us. Then she angles her body away from me again.

“Let’s read a little more,” she says. “At least for ten minutes, and for God’s sake, please get something that’s not on the history of horticulture.”

“Okay,” I murmur. “Sure.”

Danielle sticks to her ten-minute suggestion, and when the clock strikes, she stands and gathers our books. First, she puts her werewolf folklore book back, but when she tries to return my horticulture one, she has trouble reaching the shelf I took it from.

“Do you need some help?” I ask her.

“I think I got it,” she responds.

I follow her movements as she tries desperately to slip the edge of the book into its place. She definitely doesn't get it.

She rises on her toes, her fingers fumbling.

I step behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her back. She exhales, trying again to shove the book into place.

Then softly, I brush my fingers over hers, taking the book and sliding it carefully back into its place as I reach over her.

Our bodies are touching.

Neither of us pulls away.

She’s still as stone, expectant. I go to speak, to say something, make a joke maybe, but then I look down at her body, and I tense.

We’re both still. I feel her breath. Take in the scent that wafts from her hair and the back of her neck.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

I tell myself to move, and to calm myself down, I look away.

“No problem.”

Neither of our arms has dropped; mine is still against the bookshelf above her, her’s is still hovering mid-air.

I want to hold her hand, then trail the back of my palm down her body. I’m desperate to kiss her neck. My wolf is in agony, but somehow, I remember that I’m someone she’s supposed to hate. Someone she’s resisting despite how we kissed.

I take my arm down, and she follows in suit, and I’m about to move off, when, suddenly, I hear her quickening breath.

She’s expectant, waiting for me to do something, and she’s not moving. That sound is a feeling I recognize.

She wants this as much as I do.

“Danielle,” I murmur.

She turns slowly, and her eyes catch mine. “Yes?”

Her chest is rising rapidly.

There’s no denying how she feels. Not with that look, not with the way her mouth is pursed, and slightly open.

I need to taste her again.

I bend down and meet her lips with mine, trailing my tongue slowly between her soft edges. She groans, wrapping her hands around my neck as I push her against the bookshelf.

A couple of books tumble.

I ignore them, pressing my body into hers, and kissing her with desperate force. I can’t resist it anymore; I want her too much.