Page 6 of Brutal Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #2)

No amount of bubbly champagne can counter the lingering sensation of that sparky, tight feeling that ran its course through my body like a rocket as soon as Ellis touched me.

Part of me must have known that was going to happen. Like when I rejected his hand at the altar, then, I knew better than to let him touch me.

But as soon as it was time for the dance, there was nothing I could do.

I down my second glass, letting the tangy golden liquid puncture my throat. I mean, come on, it’s been ten years.

I’ve had ages to get over this arrogant, stupid, Alpha and yet one touch turns me into that vulnerable, desperate eighteen-year-old girl again.

The memory threatens a jerk of tears, but I swallow them back.

I’m allowing myself some grace because I had no idea that I was going to marry the Alpha—but Danielle, I tell myself, you really need to get it together.

For some reason, my eyes are still fixed on him. I watch him walk around the party, charming his pack mates; I watch the bouldering move of his muscles beneath his white shirt. His height hasn’t changed—he’s still so much taller than everyone else, but somehow his muscles have grown.

I need more champagne.

“Danielle,” Monroe says. “Cool it.”

I didn’t even see her coming, I was so transfixed on watching Ellis move around the party like he owns the place, but now I focus my attention on her.

“What are you talking about? I’m cool.”

I shrug and relax my facial muscles, but her expression tells me that she realizes I’m definitely not.

She looks at my empty champagne cup. “Look, I know you’ve just done the ritual, but if you want to call it off….”

“We’re not calling it off,” I say, readjusting myself. “I’m fine, I am. I don’t even care that much. I’m just a little shocked, is all. I didn’t expect the groom to be him.”

Monroe nods. “Me either. It must mean they’re serious about this alliance, though. The Alpha marrying a witch is a big deal, no?”

“I guess.”

I’m watching him again, smiling, lifting young shifter cubs into his arms. He can be so open and friendly, well, seemingly, he can be with everyone but me.

Another thing that I’ve noticed during this ceremony, is the way a lot of she-wolves from his pack have been eyeing me. They hate me.

It’s more than just your typical shifter who hates witches kind of hate. It’s a 'you stole one of our finest bachelors away from us' type of hate.

I want to tell them that I don’t exactly want him to be with me either—but politically speaking, that would be a terrible idea. I have to be his wife, whether I like it or not.

Penelope approaches, dressed in a pale pink silk dress, her gray hair flowing down the back of her neck.

I force a smile.

“How are you doing dear?” She asks me.

“Great,” I say. “No problems, I think everything is going very well.”

Do I detect suspicion crawling across Penelope’s face? Because she’s our coven leader, I always expect her to know everything that’s going on. I expect her to know when I’m hiding something—but in this case, I’m not sure.

It’s normal for someone to feel at least a little uncomfortable at an arranged wedding with an enemy race. Feeling those sparks, though? Definitely not normal.

“Yes,” she notes, raising an eyebrow. “Although, why is it that you’re standing here at the corner of the room?”

I realize that I’m quite literally backed against the furthest wall I could find. The party, the tables and chairs, the buffets of food are all to the left, and I found a quiet, isolated little grove to the right.

I clear my throat and straighten out my dress. “Just taking a breather,” I say.

Penelope nods slowly. “Are you ready for the next part?”

There’s more?

I should have listened when the shifter wedding planner walked me through how this was going to go. But my head has been a complete mess the past few days.

All I could think about was how my interaction with Ellis was going to go. I knew that as the Alpha of the pack, he would be here, and he’d likely be heavily involved—I assumed I’d have to exchange a word with him or two.

Do I look him in the eye? Do I smile?

I had it all perfectly planned. And then, as I walk down the altar, everything is turned upside down.

There’s no longer a plan. Just pure, and utter chaos.

“I’m ready for the next part,” I say. “And the next part is...”

“Speeches,” Monroe butts in.

I raise my eyebrow, and she shrugs. “I was there when the shifter planner went through everything. I was curious about how it was going to go.

“Of course,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “Speeches. I’ll just go sit by my husband, then.”

Ellis is already seated at the head of a long, white-clothed table. There are white lilies with small red specks throughout the middle. Admittedly, the planner did do a good job.

Next to Ellis is an empty seat, my seat.

As I approach him, I’m grateful he doesn’t turn to look. He’s too busy talking with his shifter friends beside him.

I swallow as I take my seat.

I’m on the shifter table now. I’m back to the place I was so happy to escape all those years ago. I think of Grams, of how it felt growing up without a Mom or Dad.

A horrible lump rises in my throat.

Being back here with him, in this pack, with all these shifters, is unearthing things I’ve tried my hardest to push away.

I thought I’d started a new life, I thought I didn’t care.

A witch takes the stage, clinks the side of her champagne flute, and the room turns quiet. The silence is the most difficult.

In the silence, the space between Ellis and me becomes more intimate. I can hear his breath, feel the weight of his large body only inches away from mine.

It’s the body that was once inside me, the body that I worshipped until I hated it. And Ellis has no idea about any of this at all.

The rest of the party goes by easier when all the official rituals are done. It’s better when I don’t have to sit beside Ellis, and I can pretend that I’m at some random party with my friends.

I swallow down my nerves, and plaster a smile as I chat with my coven-sisters, and talk a little to some of the shifters, pretending like I’ve never met them before.

They’re friendly enough, but I remember when they weren’t. I remember when they treated me like I was nothing, all because I couldn’t shift.

As the sun begins to set and the orange sky soon turns to night, an unsettling feeling creeps through my stomach.

I don’t need to ask the wedding planner, I know what comes next.

I feel Ellis approach.

“Danielle,” he says. “Are you ready to go?”

I hate how I react to the sound of my name on his lips. I hate how intimate it feels.

“Yes,” I nod with business-like detachment. “Let’s go.”

I bid goodbye to Lacey, Monroe, Penelope, and my other coven sisters. I still can’t fathom that I won't be living with them—none of this feels real.

Then Ellis leads us out of the building, into the night that is filled with nature’s charming chorus. I hold my breath as we walk side by side.

It’s difficult to feel so small. It doesn’t help the nerves.

“My cabin is not too far from here,” he says.

As we walk, I take in the way he smells; his scent hasn’t changed—I suspect he still uses the same cologne.

“That’s cool,” I say.

“You seem pretty chill about everything,” he remarks, grinning ever so slightly as though there’s something that’s funny. That irritates me a lot.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

He shakes his head. “I guess I’m just curious why you agreed to this.”

“To getting married?”

“Yes,” he says. The grass crunches beneath our feet. “Didn’t you have a choice?”

I feel even more nervous when I realize that maybe I’m playing it too cool. Perhaps, I need to try and be a little less detached. How? I’m not sure.

It’s like if I’m the tiniest bit more vulnerable, everything will come flooding back. But I have to try and be unphased by that. I have to try and be…normal.

“I had a choice,” I say. “I’m happy to be here to help strengthen my coven, and, I suppose, your pack too.”

He clears his throat a little. “Good, me too.”

I don’t think we are convinced by each other’s performances, but hey, stifled conversation is better than dancing.

When Ellis takes us to his cabin, which was once his father’s, and since he’s Alpha, now his, I have to remember to pretend that I’ve never seen it before.

“It’s here,” Ellis says.

“Oh,” I feign confusion. “Okay.”

Inside, I’m panicking. Memories of sneaking over here to see Ellis when his dad was out tending to his pack duties or upstairs, fast asleep flood my mind.

I still recall with clarity that feeling of excitement, the bubbling nerves as I approach my favorite part of the day—the voice in the back of my head that questioned his every touch or look; does he like me like I like him too?

“So here we are,” he says in a monotone voice. “We have the kitchen, the main hall, bathroom over here...”

I nod, looking around, pretending to take everything in, but I’ve seen it all before—nothing’s changed. Nothing at all.

As he walks me upstairs, I recognize a candelabra on the ledge of the large window by the landing. It’s silver with intricately detailed swirls, it has holders for five candles, all a little rusted now—small flecks of brown covering the surface like an invasive species.

I can’t be here , a frightened voice inside me says.

I remember, one night, Ellis convinced me to come in through the window. We were young, around the age of thirteen. I don’t know why we thought that it would make less noise than the door.

We wanted to binge-watch The Howling Night , some dumb series. I’m not much into climbing, and I may or may not have used my magic to help me get up.

Needless to say, I knocked that very candelabra over, and the noise was so loud that we had to run out of the house into town. We ran so far that I think we reached the neighboring pack.

It was the first time he held my hand. It was an in the moment reflex, not romantic per se but it set my whole body on fire.

“Danielle,” present-day Ellis says. “Are you casting a spell?”

“What?” I shrug, my face scrunched. I realize I’m stuck at the window—my body hasn’t moved. “No, why would I be doing that?”

“You tell me. Imagine you bring a witch into your house, and she stands there with an expressionless look on her face.”

“Try to sound more ignorant,” I huff. “I dare you.”

“Do you want the rest of the tour or not?” He frowns.

No, I want to say. I know this house almost as well as my own.

“Sure,” I mumble instead.

He takes me upstairs, shows me all the rooms, the bathrooms, the bedrooms—he mentions how, conveniently, there’s plenty of spare ones for me.

The tour ends up in his room, once his father’s, now his.

It’s grand, complete with a large four-poster bed, a fireplace, plush velvet seating, and an en-suite.

“Nice,” I say, looking around at the luxurious space. I actually never got to see this room much, but boy is it lush. “You’ve made it, congrats Alpha.”

He eyes me with irritation. “Can you stop?”

“Stop what?” I cross my arms.

He sighs. “You clearly have a problem with me.”

His burgundy eyes glower, seeping deep into my soul. He’s seeing something I don’t want him to see, and yet, my irritation pushes me to a point beyond my control.

“If I had a problem with you, why would I go along with the wedding?”

“Because you have to. Because it’s your duty. I get it; I don’t like your kind too much either—“

I scoff. “Oh really? I’d never have guessed.”

He looks at me carefully, and I feel my cheeks grow hot. “But I’m trying,” he says. “To be civil. It seems like the more I try, the more you push away, so tell me, Danielle. What is it that you want?”

I expel a breath. What a loaded, difficult question. For so long, my life hasn’t been about what I want—it’s been about survival.

I’ve been happy enough, sure, but with a past like mine, I don’t think I’ve gotten what ‘I want.’

That would require too much.

“Nothing,” I say wistfully.

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, and then he steps closer. I feel my insides tighten. I can’t handle it when he’s close.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

I turn my head up at him. “Well, why do you?”

My voice comes out as a shout, and as the sound fades away, a silence filled with tension takes over. My anger transforms into something else.

I feel hot, nervous, I find my eyes lingering on his chest for a beat too long.

Something important has shifted in the air, and as I dare to dart my eyes up to him, sheepishly, I notice that he’s no longer mad. His face has softened.

“I’ll try to work with you, if you try to work with me, okay?” He says in a deflated tone, that makes me want to hold him. It reminds me of how I felt lying against his chest, tracing circles over his body with all my defenses down.

“Okay,” I whisper.

We’re inches away now, staring at each other, and his lips are as close as they can be for someone so tall.

None of us move, but if one of us did, it feels as though we’d be kissing. I can hardly make sense of what’s going on.

My eyes betray me when they linger on his lips.

“This is just business,” he says, clearing his throat. “While I want to work with you, remember not to turn this into something that it’s not.”

Then comes a sharp fury. I remember all those painful emotions moments after we made love.

Ellis is an arrogant dick. That kind, sensitive guy I once knew disappeared as soon as he found out what I was.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I scoff, stepping back. “I know this is business. That’s the only reason I can bear to be in the same room as you, wolf .”