Page 12 of Cruel Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #1)

That night, I dream of lighting candles along with the coven, and dancing in the clearing as they perform a ritual for who knows what.

I can smell the sage mingling in the air.

I can taste dark red wine on my lips. I can feel the witches' magic swirling around me like a warm blanket on a winter night.

But then the moonlight casting over us fades to black. I no longer hear drums and music around me. I no longer sense my sisters at my elbows. Everything goes cold around me until she appears.

A beautiful woman, timeless in her appearance, approaches from the trees.

She’s stark naked, aside from her carefully placed dark hair.

Her skin is glowing brighter and brighter with every step she takes.

But then the glow turns red, orange, and yellow.

It flickers and crackles, and soon, I’m overheating.

The woman is catching on fire, but it doesn’t do a thing to break her stride. She carries on closer, reaching a hand out toward me. I want to run as the flames get hotter against my face, but I can’t move my own legs. It’s like she doesn’t want me to leave her alone here.

“Lacey,” she says, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “You have to listen to me. There’s not much time.”

This doesn’t feel right. Not a single part of it.

I need to get out of here. I need to wake up.

“You are in danger, my child,” the flaming woman continues. “The longer you stay away from the coven, the more the danger will grow.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Retribution is coming,” she says. “And it will burn the valley to the ground.”

She comes closer, the flames unbearably hot on my person. Her hand, still reaching for me, is mere centimeters away from my forearm, but before she can touch me, my eyes snap open, and I awaken in my dark bedroom.

Launching forward, I gulp in the cool air. A fan whirrs nearby, oscillating to cover the whole room. My skin is hot and sweaty, and my heart beats faster than a cheetah can run.

What a horrible dream, I think to myself. But what could it possibly mean?

A loud snore comes from beside me, startling me almost as much as that nightmare I just woke up from.

Sawyer rolls over onto his side, still fast asleep.

I could easily wake him up, if only to make it so I wouldn’t feel alone in this room.

But honestly, what could he do to help me out with this nightmare?

What could he possibly say to calm me down?

No, this is not a matter for the man who decided to be my husband. This is a matter for Danielle and Monroe.

I carefully creep out of bed, grabbing my phone from my bedside table before tiptoeing across the carpeted floor. I open the door as quietly as I can, then slip into the hallway and down the stairs.

I turn a light on in the living room and sink down onto the deep-seated couch.

I do a couple of the techniques Monroe taught me to regulate my breathing years ago, then I call Danielle’s number and wait.

The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and just when I’m about to give up and go back to bed, hoping the nightmare doesn’t come back again, she finally picks up.

“ Lacey? ” she asks in a groggy voice.

“Hey,” I reply. “I’m so sorry to call you so late at night, but…”

“Did you have another vision ? ” Danielle asks.

“Not exactly,” I say to her. “I’d rather tell you in person. Can you meet me on the outskirts of town?”

“Of course, Lacey, anything,” Danielle says. “I’ll be right there—Oh, Monroe. Hey, sorry if we woke you up. I’m going to meet Lacey—You’re coming with? Great. Let’s go.”

Not even caring that I’m still in my old T-shirt and ratty pajama shorts, I slide into my sandals at the front door and carefully open it, then close it behind me until I’m alone on the porch.

The streetlights are on, guiding my path even though I know these streets like the back of my hand.

Dawn is still hours away, and so the cold air and darkness enshroud me on my way to the path.

When I reach our meeting spot, I can hear twigs breaking and feet trodding on the earth.

Clad in pajamas, too, Monroe is rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she follows her twin sister, who’s hardly more awake than she is.

“I’m sorry, you guys, but I had to see you,” I tell them, reaching forward to hug them both.

“It’s fine, Lacey,” Danielle assures me, a bulb of warm light hovering from her palm.

“Yeah, of course,” Monroe adds. “You would do the same for us. I know it.”

“So, what’s this about?”

I launch into a summary of my wicked dream, still feeling the woman’s flames licking my skin. Monroe’s eyes only widen as I speak, and Danielle keeps clenching her jaw tightly.

“I don’t know,” I conclude, shrugging my shoulders. “What do you guys think this could mean?”

Danielle and Monroe exchange glances.

“It could be a genuine warning,” Danielle suggests. “But if you kept feeling like something was off, then maybe that was your intuition telling you it was malevolent.”

“I still can’t believe she knew my name,” I murmur to myself.

Monroe looks at her twin again. “Should I tell her?”

Danielle meets her gaze and cocks her head to the side. “Might as well.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“Well, we’ve been doing lots of research since you and your husband came by,” Monroe starts.

I wince at the word “husband.” It still doesn’t feel right to call Sawyer that. I mean, he is my husband, but currently, it’s in name only.

“And we haven’t found a whole lot of information. But Danielle did some scrying, and we actually found this huge, gnarled willow tree right here in the woods,” she finishes.

“Oh, really?” I say breathlessly.

“Yeah, it’s not too far from here. Maybe half a mile,” Danielle adds, jerking a thumb to her right.

“There was a really bad energy to it, though. I didn’t want to stay there any longer than I had to,” Monroe says. “But yeah, we think it’s the willow tree from the legend.”

Before I can respond, I hear a rustling in the distance. All three of our heads turn toward the sound, and soon, a figure comes walking into sight. There’s a red bulb glowing in her hand, illuminating her thin nightgown and the strawberry blonde hair piled up on top of her head.

Violet.

“What are you all doing out here?” she asks in a groggy voice.

“I should ask you the same thing,” I shoot back. I still haven’t forgotten how she spoke to me the day prior.

“Well, I was asleep until I heard these two walking by my bedroom window,” Violet explains, glaring at both Danielle and Monroe. “Why are you sneaking around, meeting with the traitor ?”

For a moment, I’m confused. “Who’s a traitor?”

Violet turns her glare to me, wrinkling her nose as if she can smell something foul close by.

“Wait a second,” I mutter. “ I’m the traitor?”

“You’re the one who married the dog ,” she scoffs.

“I may have married Sawyer, but I’m no traitor,” I retort. “Trust me, my heart is with the coven.”

“Then why haven’t you come home yet, hmm?” Violet questions. “Why are you married to a shifter?”

I’m starting to see red. “It wasn’t up to me,” I nearly explode. “I wouldn’t be living in the valley if I hadn’t been forced to marry Sawyer in the first place.”

A twig snaps behind me, and my blood runs cold.

I can feel the presence behind me, and I fear that it’s the very last person I want to see at this given moment.

Ahead of me, Monroe’s mouth is in a tight circle, while Danielle’s is in a flat line.

Violet watches with a tinge of amusement, as if she’s barely holding back a laugh.

“Is that how you really feel, Lacey?”

My eyes shut, and I exhale deeply before turning around. Sure enough, there Sawyer is, wearing only his plaid pajama bottoms. His hair is ruffled, and his eyes are bleary. But his mouth is unmistakably twisted into a frown of disappointment.