Page 16 of Brutal Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #2)

I twist my hand, focusing on producing a magical glow. In front of me is one of the decaying bushes, its leaves looking back at me, all dry, sad, and decrepit.

But I’m finding it hard to heal today. My magic seems blocked. Every time I try to do something that I’m supposed to be doing, like healing the wildlife, researching, cleansing the surrounding air, something stops me.

In my mind, I see Ellis’ disapproving face. I hear him saying that he should have never trusted a witch. I see his point. He’d given me time, so why couldn’t I just tell him?

When we were arguing, I was on the verge of saying it, but something stopped me.

I grit my teeth, close my eyes, and press harder.

Come on.

Little spurts of magic are coming out in drops, like a malfunctioning water hose. I open my eyes to look at the bush, which, yep, is still as decaying as it was, and sigh, leaning back on the grass.

I feel so much guilt for the way I handled things, for that wounded and then cold look in Ellis’s eyes.

But then again, he was being impatient.

And just because he’s forgotten, doesn’t mean that he’s not the same Ellis who rejected me and broke my heart.

For that, I owe him nothing.

I extend my hand one more time and try, but all I get are more mini spurts. I give up.

My stomach is howling, and I realize that I haven’t eaten anything today when I get a whiff of the communal breakfast coming from the dining hall.

There’s less of that in the coven. The wolves love eating together; it’s a pack thing, and if I wasn’t so scarred by them all, I see how it could maybe be nice.

I decide that I’ll pop in. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to waste time heading over to the coven and sorting out food when, in reality, it’s because a nagging part of me wants to see him.

I’m just curious about what he’s up to. Is he feeling as blocked as I am?

Yes, because his memories have been wiped, but probably not, because I know how good Alphas are at compartmentalizing their feelings.

Must be nice.

As I head into the dining hall, I’m greeted by the scent of bacon, eggs, waffles, sweet, salt, and grease. My stomach turns.

As I head for the buffet stations, I look around. Lots of pack members are here, eating, laughing, and talking. There’s a general buzz of uplifting chatter, but still no Ellis.

I check around for him again as I grab a plate and wait in line to serve myself breakfast.

“Hey,” an elderly she-wolf says, who’s standing next to me in line. I believe her name is Doris. It’s always strange pretending like I’m meeting people I know for the first time.

“Hi,” I respond nervously. “I’m Danielle.”

She smiles. “Doris.”

I nod.

“Breakfast looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she says. “Don’t miss out on the waffles. On a day like today, they’re the best.”

Again, this is something I know that I have to convincingly pretend I don’t.

“Oh, nice,” I say. “Thanks.”

Given that Doris is making conversation, I seize my chance to ask her a question that’ll save me a lot of time.

“Hey, do you know where Ellis has gone off to at this hour? He forgot to let me know.”

Doris looks unconvinced by my ‘he forgot to let me know.’

“He’s with the witches,” she pauses. “Well, with your coven. I think they’re in the forest.”

“Ah,” I murmur casually. “I see, thanks.”

It’s our time to load up on food, and I eye the heavenly golden waffles. I’d willfully forgotten about these waffles over the years—I’d associated them with my trauma.

But now I realize that I missed them. A lot.

“Oh, Danielle,” Doris says. “One more thing.”

“Yep?”

I’m digging around with the serving spoon for crispy bacon.

“I administer things around the library here.”

My chest turns cold.

I pause at first, but remember to keep scraping.

“Uh-huh.”

Crap. Were there cameras? Did she hear what happened? I don’t know what’s more mortifying, the sex part, or the I’ve bewitched Ellis for some evil plan talk.

“I heard you were the last one to go in there, and dear, I do ask that you put the books back on their shelves. They can get damaged, all tossed on the floor like that.”

I bravely turn to face her, but she doesn’t look overly suspicious or like she’s accusing me of something else.

She genuinely wants the books on their shelves.

I relax a little.

“Sure,” I say. “I’m sorry about that.”

Once I’ve loaded my plate, I find an empty spot at the end of a quiet table.

Doris won’t have to worry about scattered books, I tell myself; Ellis and I will never do that again.

***

I can’t help but spy on Ellis; maybe it’s because he was spying on me. I don’t know. I’m curious about who the real Ellis is now.

Up until everything transpired between us, he’d been acting so caring. So nice. He reminded me of the way he used to be, and that’s what got us into that whole ‘book scattering’ situation.

But what is he really after?

He hates, or at least he hated, witches. If he’s allowed to be so suspicious of me, then why can’t I be suspicious of him?

It’s only fair.

Lucky for me, Ellis is still in the woods. I’m a little weighed down by waffles and bacon, but I move as discreetly as possible, lurking at a distance behind one of the big trees.

I give its bark a little rub.

Don’t worry. We’ll keep you alive. I promise.

“So, no vines?” Ellis asks Sandra, one of our older witches.

She’s standing with Ellis while the other witches are casting spells a little further away in the forest.

“I found some vines nearby,” she says. “But there’s nothing of magical significance that I can find located in them. I can look out a little further if you want?”

Ellis nods. “If you can, I’d appreciate it. I’m wondering whether there’s a specific vine that we need.”

“Yes,” Sandra responds. “It is unlikely but possible.”

She closes her eyes and hums a few words as her body shakes from side to side. Sandra is one of our best—I have fond memories of her teaching me spells that I’d never even heard of.

Ellis waits by her side expectantly.

To think, all those years ago, he couldn’t even stand to be in the same vicinity as a witch.

Sandra’s humming grows louder, vibrating in the space between the trees. I even feel the energy that she creates. It radiates outward, pulsating across the forest floor.

Leaves are shaking, thin branches swaying in the breeze she created.

Ellis’s arms are crossed. He doesn’t move an inch.

Sandra’s sway becomes uneven; her head tilts, and then, suddenly, her knees buckle, and she collapses to the floor.

Instinctively, I lurch forward—but in a split-second, Ellis lunges, catching her before her whole body falls.

“Whoa—Sandra!”

I gasp, stepping back behind the tree.

“Hey, stay with me. Come on…” Ellis soothes. Her eyes are barely open, and he leads her to sit on a nearby rock.

Sandra groans, her eyelids fluttering but still not quite opening.

The other witches rush over. “What happened?”

“Sandra?” One of them crouches. “What’s wrong?”

“I told her not to push too far,” Ellis mutters. There’s a softness to his tone, a deep concern there.

“Sandra?” A witch says louder this time.

“I’m fine,” she murmurs, slowly coming to.

I notice that Ellis is still supporting her, one arm braced around her back, and he’s watching her, his eyes unmovable, his jaw tense.

“She was doing a sourcing spell,” Ellis says. “I asked her to do it a little further, I didn’t think...”

“It’s fine,” Sandra croaks. “It’s my fault. I should have grounded myself, I didn’t know.”

“Should we take her to the infirmary?” Ellis asks the witches.

“No,” one of them says. “This is a magic problem; the infirmary won’t help.”

He nods, and then she looks him up and down. “Thanks, though.”

Sandra chuckles. “Good thing, I had this big, strong wolf here to protect me.”

Ellis laughs, too, relief spreading across his face. “Hey, anytime.”

I slowly release the tense breath that I was holding. Everything is okay again. Because of Ellis. He cares, I see that, and my sisters have accepted him; they evidently trust him a lot more than they did before.

Has Ellis actually changed?

I walk away from the scene, frowning, deep in thought. Only time will tell. I still won’t trust him yet.

I hear the faint echo of Ellis, Sandra, and the others' laughter as I walk away.

I can’t trust him yet.

Right?

***

After observing Ellis over the past few days, here’s what I know: Even if he has a late night, he’ll never miss a morning meeting (unless there’s something urgent to take care of).

Ellis, although sometimes silent and grouchy, is always present in every situation, listening and making sure he knows what’s going on.

These are things that he’s developed since I knew him. He wasn’t always this responsible.

Another thing I noticed is that he always makes a concerted, genuine effort to make the wolves and witches get along. In situations when they don’t need to be together—at lunch, for example, he makes sure that every wolf is seated next to at least one witch.

And honestly, it’s kind of working.

They’re so civil that some of them are almost actually making friends. How did I not notice this? I’d been so intent on avoiding him that I hadn’t realized all the real progress that’s been happening.

One day, I asked a young witch what she thought of Ellis. She told me she thought he was funny and that she hopes to marry a shifter like him one day when she’s older.

That shocked me.

Never did I think I’d hear those words coming from the mouth of one of my coven sisters.

On Thursday, after a witch/wolf meeting, just as the sun was setting, Ellis came by with pizza and beer. Everyone stayed, even as the sunset turned to night.

Then someone started playing music, and it became a party. More witches joined, more pack members, too.

I would have also joined, but I was still in shock. I wasn’t ready to face Ellis.

The other thing that was also messing with me was that, since our last argument, Ellis had given me the space I needed.

A good thing, yes, but it’s thrown me off kilter. Given me more time to think.

I haven’t heard from him, haven’t seen him, aside from when spying on him. I can’t fault present him, but I can’t just get over past him either. I realize my time is running out.

Can you meet me at the Coven?

I text Lacey.

An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach as I tap the back of my phone with my nails. I know that in order to get help, I’ve gotta come clean.

I’ve been dreading this day for ten years.

Everything inside me wants to run.

***

After I come clean, I believe that it’s the first time I've ever seen Penelope look shocked.

We’re sitting in a private room on cushions; Lacey has her hand over her mouth and reaches for me. Monroe looks pained, as if she always feels what I do, although she does look a little distracted today.

“Danielle,” Penelope says gravely. “If I had known that Ellis was the reason... I would have never.”

I nod. “I know, I know. You didn’t know. And maybe that was irresponsible on my part, but I just couldn’t bring myself to think about what happened, let alone talk about it with anyone else.”

“I understand,” Lacey says, stroking my hand. “Some scars bury themselves so deep.”

“Of course, I knew some details instinctively,” Monroe says. “But I didn’t know the extent of it. I’m sorry, Danielle.”

I take in a cooling breath. It feels good to talk about everything, easier than I thought.

“So, the sex,” Penelope says. I shudder a little, like an embarrassed teenager. Lacey and I exchange a look.

“Yes,” I say. “The sex is what undid some of it. He knows a little but not enough.”

Penelope nods. “There are always loopholes with spells. If you’ve shared an intimate moment with the subject of the spell before and share a moment again after, yes, it can puncture it. I should have checked with you, dear child. I am sorry.”

I shake my head. “It’s my fault. At first, he thought it was a plot against him by us, but he knows that it’s personal. It’s about me and him.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Lacey asks me. “Do you want to come clean?”

A few days ago, I would have said no. But now my feelings have changed.

“I think,” I say. “We should lift the spell. Just for him, if that’s possible?”

Penelope nods. “It is. But once we do this, we can’t go back. Too much tampering will mess with him too much. And then you’d also have to promise not to do lovemaking with him again, which, as husband and wife, maybe a little hard...”

Lacey snickers.

Love-making . I think she’s trying to make us cringe.

“I understand that this will be permanent,” I say, looking around the room. “Let’s lift it, only for him.”

I’m so grateful to have all these wonderful women in my life.

Especially with what I’m about to face.