Page 7 of Brutal Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #2)

Our wildlife has been showing signs of decay, and it’s only been accelerating.

I’m reminded of why I’m doing something as crazy as marrying a difficult witch in the first place. We need the coven’s help.

The curse is definitely not gone—and I know, in the place where my Alpha intuition lies, that things are probably only going to get worse.

This morning, I meet Danielle, a few coven witches I’ve never seen before, and some of my closest advisors in Roseville. It’s strange having witches just show up at our pack grounds, invited . I suppose it’s how they felt when I showed up at theirs. It feels wrong.

“Good morning,” I say sternly.

It’s me, my closest advisors, Danielle, a whole chunk of empty space, and then them. They’re dressed mostly in black. Cheery.

Danielle, as though intent on declaring where her true loyalty lies, walks over to stand with them. Without Penelope there, I’m not sure who I’m supposed to address.

“Hello,” one of them speaks. “Penelope told us that you had some problems you wanted to show us today.”

I feel my guys tensing beside me.

“Witch created problems,” one of them mutters under his breath.

A witch on their side raises her eyebrow.

“Yes, a problem created after a witch’s heart was broken by one of your kind.”

“A witch-created problem that we’re helping you solve,” another says.

Aaron, my closest and best Beta, who sometimes finds it tricky to hold his tongue, speaks again.

“The least you could do, really.”

“All right,” I snap, tensing my jaw as I turn sharply to him at my right. “That’s enough.”

Danielle rolls her eyes. I understand where Aaron is coming from. Yes, this whole Willow problem is technically a curse created by a witch, but that’s beside the point.

They’re here to help. I don’t want them to feel unwelcome.

“I’m sorry about that,” I declare, staring each of them directly in the eye. Even Danielle, who I’ve successfully been avoiding at home. She makes me feel all kinds of things I have no business feeling.

“We appreciate you coming to help us as a first step in this alliance. We want to get along. How about we introduce each other first—Aaron?”

He’s silent.

“Aaron,” I say this time, as a command.

As we go through, introducing each other, Monroe, Danielle’s twin, sparks my curiosity. She looks dissimilar to Danielle, she has straight hair, differently shaped eyes, less cat, and more circular, but still shares a similar essence with Danielle.

I can tell they’re close. What is it about Danielle that draws me into her and not her twin? Is it just the curly hair, the way she holds herself? Why do I feel a pull to her and not Monroe?

“So what’s happening now?” Danielle asks.

I snap back to reality at the sound of her voice.

“Now I show you all our problems, and you tell me if there’s anything you can do.”

As I lead the group across town, the way we walk reminds me of my and Danielle’s wedding. Witches on one side, wolves on the other.

I show them some trees, which have decayed so rapidly, they look as though they’re on the brink of death.

It’s strange. It’s not as though they’re all clustered in one place. It’s not like I can find an actual cause.

One of the dying trees is by the cabins, a couple are in the woodland area, and one is right in the center of our town. That one’s the worst, displayed clearly for everyone to see. For everyone to be concerned.

“So,” I say, standing in front of the group as they all eye the tree with its decrepit leaves.

We’re at the shameful one in the center of Roseville.

“I can’t pinpoint where or why this is happening.

As you can see, it’s all random, sporadic, and in different places, but there's definitely decay. Is there anything that can be done?”

Danielle steps forward to speak. She’s not looking at me, just eyeing the tree with concerned, moss-green eyes. She’s focused.

“Yes,” she says methodically. “The way it’ll work will be for us to cast some temporary spells.

We’ll need a specific solution, water, some oils, and some herbs.

The solution, once spellbound, will act as a temporary sort of life force for the tree.

It’ll keep it from the brink of death, but it will need to be applied, twice a day. ”

I try not to be impressed by the way she assesses things so quickly. It’s a recurring theme, trying not to be impressed with Danielle.

“Perfect,” I say. Then I turn to my men. “Aaron, you work with Danielle to ensure that she gets the ingredients she needs. Then we’ll wait for them to work their magic, and split off into groups of three, a witch in each.”

I turn to Danielle. “You’ll all need to show us how to apply the solution correctly.”

“Yeah,” she says, as though my request is obvious. “Of course.”

We haven’t exactly spoken since that first night, and the tension between us isn’t exactly subtle.

As the day goes on, I oversee the witches and my men, watching as they let the witches explain things to them, reluctantly at first, but soon both sides warm up, and it’s almost as though everyone’s getting along.

Civil, at least.

Some of my guys, Aaron in particular, look impressed.

As they cast spells over a pot of the requested solution, and the substance is boiled and sparked, I noticed looks of genuine shock.

When it’s time for lunch, we all eat together outside, sandwiches and fruit provided by our pack.

“Here,” I say to Danielle as I hand her a sandwich, a peace offering, sort of.

She eyes me quickly before taking it. “Thanks,” she murmurs, and then looks off.

As I sit with my guys, I can’t help but flicker my gaze to her side.

She laughs, her face radiating a light glow as she chatters with her twin.

As an only child, I can’t imagine the feeling of the type of bond they have. But it’s obvious that they’re very close. That makes me happy for some reason.

Danielle rests her head on Monroe’s shoulder as she smiles, and I can’t pinpoint what it is that fills me with joy. It just does.

Perhaps it’s because Danielle’s smiling, or maybe because she looks so relaxed. The strange energy between Danielle and me is many things—none of them relaxed.

“This is going well, right?” One of my guys says to me, mid-bite.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “I think it is.”

“But it’s only a temporary solution. What are we going to do about the real problem?”

“Good question,” I sigh, taking a chunk of sandwich in my hand. I gaze at the wheat bread, the light pink ham, and thinly sliced white cheese. “I have no fucking idea.”

No idea about that, and no idea about why I can’t get this fascinating witch out of my mind.

***

Last time we met at Jasper’s—our friend and the Alpha of the other neighboring pack in our valley’s grounds, the time before that, it was mine—this evening, it’s Sawyer’s turn to host. Honestly, I’m glad to get out of my pack.

While the meeting with the witches went well, all of it was intense.

Keeping the peace, worrying that my guys won’t try shit, and honestly making sure the witches don’t try anything as well.

What my pack mates seem to have forgotten is that I’m just as suspicious as they are.

But most of all, the intensity of being around Danielle is getting to me. Maybe it’s a scent thing? To my wolf, she smells good. Really good. Not your typical attractive female, sweet, but a send-your-wolf-to-the-brink-of-insanity type good.

At least in Sawyer’s pack, the scent isn’t there. All I smell is regular shifter wolves.

“Why do we still meet up here if we don’t have anything serious to say?” Jasper asks absentmindedly as he picks a can from the cooler.

Sawyer throws me one, and Greg, our other friend—Lacey’s brother, is already half way through his. I’ve arrived a little late given all I had to administer this morning and afternoon.

“Because,” Sawyer says. “No one will disturb us while we’re here.”

The guy has a point. Even when we meet up to shoot the shit like we’re doing now, we gather in a council hall. Long wooden tables, wooden chairs, and creaky halls. They’re not exactly the most comfortable of chill-out spots, but if we hang outside, shifters will usually come to disturb us all.

Either a question, a complaint, or a request. At least when we’re in here, pack mates assume we’re talking business. No one wants to interrupt that.

“I am so done with business today,” I remark, leaning back in my chair. No matter how far I lean, I can’t get comfortable.

“Look at this guy,” Sawyer grins. “One full day of witches, and he’s already done.”

“Hey, how do I work the speaker?” Greg asks, crouching down and inspecting the small black box. It’s always the same thing with Sawyer’s speaker, it never works.

“You have to hold down the button on the right,” Sawyer commands absentmindedly.

“Nah,” I say. “I’m not done completely. The witches were helpful, it went fine, it’s just... difficult.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Jasper jokes.

As if I needed to be reminded about Danielle, but today is the first time we’ve met up since I got married. I was expecting questions.

“Marrying a witch is not what I call paradise,” I grunt.

“Woah,” Jasper holds up his hands defensively. “Someone’s in a mood today.”

I suppose I am. I should probably stop talking before I make things worse.

Suddenly, there’s a loud boom, a crackle, and the steady thump of electronic house music. It’s way too loud, damn-near assaulting my eardrums, and noticing the disgruntled frowns on everyone’s faces, Greg turns it down.

“Oh, come on,” Sawyer rocks his head back. “Do we really gotta listen to this crap?”

“It’s not crap!” Greg protests, swaying his head back and forth.

“Raise your hand if you think Greg’s music is crap.”

Jasper, Sawyer, and I all lift one arm up to the wooden ceiling.

Greg rolls his eyes.

“We can take it in turns. That’s fair. A song each?”

Jasper nods, and Sawyer says, “Fine.”

When they pass around the phone that’s controlling the music, I shake my head. I don’t have a song.

“What’s going on with you, man, really?” Sawyer asks.

“Because I don’t have a song?”

“Because you’re grumpy as shit,” Greg calls.

He’s about three beers deep, and somehow, the music has turned back to electric thumping, mind-numbing house.

I know that the grumpier I am, the more questions they’ll ask. I have to keep it under control.

“I’m fine,” I say, taking a long swig of beer. “I’m just concerned about the valley, is all.”

“Uh-uh,” Jasper frowns, raising one hand. “We said no business talk.”

Sawyer shrugs. “He’s right.”

“You’re really not gonna tell us what it’s been like with Danielle?” Greg asks.

I shake my head, and extend my legs onto a nearby chair. “Nope.”

Soon they all forget about Danielle, and that I’m in a bad mood. The music gets louder, everyone becomes progressively drunker, and the laughter becomes even more mindless.

I neck a couple of beers, excuse myself to use the bathroom, and when I return, I still feel the same unease I had coming here. I’m restless, and agitated, and I know that it’s to do with Danielle.

Why is she so mad at me, and why am I not mad enough at her? My irritation is because I’m drawn in, and a growing part of me is becoming unbothered by what she is.

I feel out of control.

Then, there are the looming issues with the valley. What sort of leader can I be to my pack in the face of danger while I’m struggling with all this?

“Now you see this is music,” Sawyer says, the speaker in hand, turning up the volume on its side. As he does, slow, smooth jazz echoes through the room.

“Lacey and I dance to this all the time. It’s something you can dance to. Unlike your crap.”

Greg shakes his head. “Not gonna lie, I don’t want to hear about you and my sister dancing.”

Jasper chuckles. Sawyer smiles.

“You hearing about me and Lacey dancing is like me listening to your shitty ass songs.”

“Hey guys,” I say, standing up. I’m still painfully sober, still restless, and irritable. “Imma head out.”

There’s an “Aww Ellis, come on,” and Sawyer promises to take Greg off the music if I stay, but other than that, they let me go without protest.

Once I’m outside my head is already a little clearer. I return back to my pack, and venture into our woodlands, to find my favorite spot.

The one behind the little shed, with the trees covering the entrance.

At least those trees aren’t dying—not yet.

The forest floor crunches beneath my feet. I breathe in the silence of the starry night, the sounds of nature filling my ears.

With my arms crossed, I lean against the shed. I like being concealed, feeling like I’m alone.

But what will happen when these trees start to die, too, when the witches can’t find anything other than a temporary solution? Will this alliance have been for nothing? Will this marriage-

Before I can finish my last thought, I hear a rustle.

I turn sharply, and as though she’s an apparition, a figment of my imagination—Danielle is approaching from around the trees.