Page 11 of Cruel Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #1)
Another meeting goes by. Nowadays, there’s much less beer and more serious conversation.
And today, I spent much of our time together discussing Lacey’s visions to a visibly uncomfortable Ellis and Jasper.
Though I’m sure their discomfort was much more to do with Lacey having magical powers and cavorting with witches than anything else.
I lean forward in my seat at the table as the two other alphas file through the door. In the past, our meetings have ended with the three of us and sometimes Greg getting food together or going for a swim. The jovial atmosphere is gone this time, and only Greg and I remain.
My oldest and best friend runs a hand through his shaggy black hair. He looks exhausted. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t had a decent night of sleep in weeks.
I tap my fingers on the tabletop, the silence surrounding us making each fingertip leave a loud thud on the glossy surface. There’s a question I need to ask him, but I don’t know if my tongue will allow it.
“Greg,” I finally start.
He meets my eyes, his sitting over two dark circles. “Yeah?”
I have to ask it now. “Did you know Lacey was living in a coven this whole time?”
Greg’s body becomes rigid for a moment, and then he nods his head. “I did,” he admits. “I didn’t say anything, though, because Lacey asked me to keep it to myself.”
A humming noise comes from my closed mouth as I think about his answer. It’s not a bad excuse, especially considering how close he and Lacey have always been. Still, it hurts to think he wouldn’t have told me such an important piece of information.
Another secret. How many more are there?
“Look, I know witches are supposed to be our bitter enemies, or whatever,” Greg adds.
“But I don’t give a single fuck. No one should.
I mean, why would we? No one even knows why anymore.
Whatever happened between wolves and witches was forgotten a long time ago.
We’ve all just been told to hate each other blindly. I’m sick of it.”
My mouth opens, but I can’t argue with his words. “You make a good point.”
“Honestly, dude?” Greg continues. “All I care about is keeping the people I love happy and healthy. And if those witches in the forest could do that for my sister and my niece, then that’s fine with me.”
All I can do is nod my head.
“Look, I’m sorry for not telling you,” he says. “But I couldn’t betray Lacey like that. Not after everything she went through beforehand.”
His words feel like a rusty blade in my belly. I wonder just how much he knows about the night Lacey fled into the trees. I know they’ve kept in contact for a long time, but I don’t know how much she’s said to him. Does he know how awful to her I was? Does he know how much I’ve changed since then?
“It’s fine,” I reply. “You don’t need to apologize to me. You were looking out for your sister. I respect that more than you’ll ever know.”
“Thanks.” Greg nods his head back at me, his tired eyes glistening.
“I want you to know, man, I will protect Lacey and Shea to the ends of the earth,” I tell him. “I promise.”
Greg nods slower. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot.”
“You’ve got it.” I give him a half-smile. “And now you have to promise me you’ll get some rest, okay?”
A heavy exhale escapes from Greg’s nostrils. “I’ll do my best.”
We both stood up at the same time. I reach over and clap him on the back.
Greg looks like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
There’s more of a bounce in his step as he walks through the hallway and goes down the stairs.
It’s like I’m getting my friend back after all of this time, piece by piece.
When we reach the main lobby, Greg turns over his shoulder to me. “You want to come by my place? Hang out a bit?”
Just as I’m about to say yes, something catches my eye. The tapestry of the burning tree draws me into its orbit, and I almost forget where I am.
“I’m going to have to take a rain check,” I tell Greg, tearing my eyes away from the tapestry. “But we’ll hang out soon, just the two of us, I promise.”
Greg glances over to where I was staring before, then nods his head at me, a curious look in his eye. “Alright, man. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Bye.”
I wave, standing there in the middle of the lobby, watching Greg’s figure retreat toward the front door. Once he’s stepped through and disappeared from my sight, I turn back toward the tapestry.
My eyes trace over every line, every shape of the artwork. From the clouds of smoke rising from the burning branches to the wave cresting in its direction. But no matter how long I stare, I still have no more answers.
“ When the willow is afire, wash it down with your desire .”
My heart jumping inside of my chest, I turn quickly toward the sound of the voice. My father approaches slowly, coming to stand at my side. I must have been so sucked into the tapestry that I didn’t hear him coming.
“You scared the shit out of me, Dad,” I tell him.
“Sorry,” he says, patting my shoulder. “Boy, I haven’t looked at this old thing in some time.”
I turn and watch my father gaze at the tapestry. His chest fills with air, deflating with a loud noise coming from his mouth.
“That line,” I mutter. “The one about the willow tree. What does it mean?”
“Oh, come on, Sawyer, it’s from some nonsense bedtime story my grandfather told you.”
The way my dad scoffs makes me think that he really doesn’t consider the line much more than just that.
“Well, I don’t remember the story,” I reply.
My dad sucks in a deep breath and rolls his eyes. “You’re really going to ask me to tell you?”
“I’ll pull rank if I have to,” I say it like it’s a joke, but I’m one hundred percent serious.
My father snickers and shakes his head back and forth. “Maybe I was too quick to cede power to you.”
I fold my arms across my chest, then cock my head toward the tapestry.
“Alright, alright,” my dad sighs. “So, once upon a time , back when there was unity between the wolves and witches in the area we call home, a shifter mated with one of the witches. They were in love, and all that stuff, but the witch wanted to take over the valley, so the shifter turned against her. He then found a new mate, a woman born to shifters who could not shift herself—not unlike that new wife of yours.”
My stomach flutters at the thought of Lacey. If this shiftless wolf in my dad’s story was anything like her, then she must have been gorgeous.
“The shifter and the shiftless turned the witch into a tree on the outskirts,” he continues half-heartedly.
“There was fire involved somewhere in there. I don’t really remember much else, Sawyer.
Just that your great-grandfather told me the witch tries to come back every once in a blue moon.
But the last time he remembered that happening would be more than a hundred years ago.
No one here would have been alive to remember it. Provided any bit of it is true.”
I mull over my father’s story for a moment, wondering what version of this story those twins Lacey introduced me to will discover. I mean, it must be different. Probably much more sympathetic to the witch than my father’s retelling.
“It’s just a story, though,” he reminds me. “Nothing more than the ramblings of an old man with nothing better to do. He might have even made it up for all I know.”
I nod, but I don’t share the clear skepticism my father has for all of this.
“Now, that’s the last I want to hear or talk about any of this,” he says, the annoyance plain on his face. “If I were still in charge, I’d tear down this rug myself, but I’ll leave that up to you.”
I have no intentions of doing such a thing, though. And when I stare at the artwork, all I can do is think of the crude drawing Lacey did the day before, of a burning willow tree and a trail of blood rushing down from its roots.
Tacking onto that, all of the other visions she’s had, I don’t think I could doubt any of this shit if I tried.
The loyal son in me, who looked up to his dad all of his life, wants me to grab his shoulders and implore him that maybe my great-grandfather was right, but I know how he’ll react.
He’ll roll his eyes and scoff even more, and much worse, he might lose some respect for me.
I can’t have that. Not when I need support the most.