Page 14 of Cruel Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #1)

My stomach still flutters at the memories of Sawyer this morning. Our mating was nothing short of pure primal pleasure, and if I think about it too much, my knees start to shake.

Fortunately, all I need to do right now is focus on my daughter, who skips ahead of me on the sidewalk. Instead of doing another tour of the valley, we’re merely getting some wiggles out and some fresh air in.

I direct Shea toward the farthest edge of town, where our paved roads turn to a dirt path leading out to the nearest highway far in the distance, just in case we ever need to venture into the so-called normal world.

Surrounding the roads are beautiful maple trees, but as we get closer to them, I notice that something is off.

“What are you looking at, Mommy?” Shea asks.

I approach one of the trees and notice its roots shriveling from the earth. The base of the trunk is turning a sickly black. It’s only a matter of time until the rest of the tree goes along with it. And it’s the same story with several more of the trees in the area.

My chest fills with dread. This is bad. This is really bad.

“Come on, baby.” I turn and grab Shea’s hand. “Let’s go back home. I’ll make you some lunch. How’s that sound?”

***

As I make Shea a grilled cheese sandwich, my knees start shaking again, but this time, it’s for a vastly different reason. My visions of rot across the village are coming true. Much quicker than I feared they would.

I carry the frying pan over to the table, using the spatula to lower the sandwich down onto Shea’s plate, and then separate the grilled cheese into two diagonal pieces with the tool itself.

“Blow on hot food!” Shea recites the instructions I’ve given her many times since she’s been able to eat without me feeding her. Then she sucks in a deep gulp of air, filling her like a chipmunk preparing for winter, and blowing cartoonishly on the sandwich before her.

“Good job,” I say, trying to maintain my facade of normalcy.

The front door finally opens, and Sawyer returns from a meeting with Jasper, Ellis, and Greg. He ruffles the back of his hair and breathes out a haggard sigh. It’s clear things are not progressing in a positive way. I’m almost reluctant to tell him what I saw on our walk.

“Hey,” I murmur, gesturing for him to meet me by the stove.

Catching my drift, Sawyer comes closer and puts his hands on his hips. The same hips that bucked against mine on the living room floor last night…

No, I have to focus.

“I hate to give you such bad news,” I start. “But the trees on the edge of Roseville are starting to go bad.”

“I know,” Sawyer murmurs. “I went for a run this morning to, uh, work off some extra energy, and saw it for myself. Lacey, I was concerned before, but I’m getting really worried now…”

Unsure of what else to do or say, I reach out and grab his upper arm. The bicep, only partially covered by his short-sleeved T-shirt, is strong. Hard as a rock.

Focus, Lacey, focus .

“We’re going to figure this out,” I tell him. “Together.”

Sawyer covers my hand with his and nods his head. But before he can say anything, a loud banging comes from the door.

“What’s that?” Shea asks.

The banging continues, and someone hollers Sawyer’s voice from the porch.

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” I say calmly. “Can you show me how careful you are, taking that plate to the living room to finish eating?”

Excited to prove herself, Shea grabs the plate and follows my directions, only leaving a few crumbs on the kitchen floor in her wake.

Sawyer heads to the door and opens it up, ceasing the knocking. “Dad?” he breathes out.

“You need to help,” Lucas warbles from the porch.

“Bring her in,” Sawyer says.

That’s when I see her. My former alpha is carrying a young woman in his arms. She’s barely conscious, her head lolling back and forth.

There’s a sheen of sweat over her skin, leaving dark stains on her tank top.

And creeping up her mostly bare legs, arms, and neck are dark spots, just like the ones I had seen on Miss Theresa in my vision.

I fall back against the countertop, my breath harsh and ragged. Sawyer turns to me, deeply concerned.

“What is it, Lacey?” he asks.

“I’ve seen this,” I choke out. “This… This plague. In my visions.”

“In her what ?” Lucas asks, his face screwing up.

“I have visions, sir,” I tell him, struggling to find the strength in my legs. “Always have. And I’ve been having terrifying ones lately.”

“She has, Dad,” Sawyer says as he clears the kitchen table and helps Lucas set the young woman down on it. “You can trust her.”

Still, Lucas eyes me suspiciously, though he doesn’t interrupt. Meanwhile, Sawyer is leaning over the woman, checking her vitals and murmuring down to her in a comforting voice.

“I’ve seen these markings on people in my visions,” I continue. “I just hoped we would have time before these symptoms started showing up.”

“And have any of these visions shown you a cure?” Lucas asks. His tone is somewhat condescending, but I can tell it’s coming from a place of fear. Fear and ignorance.

“I can’t say they have,” I tell him honestly. “But we have people looking into it.”

Lucas furrows his brow. “What people?”

“My fr—”

“It’s not important,” Sawyer cuts in, looking up from the woman. He throws me a cautious, knowing glance.

Right, I remind myself. I probably shouldn’t tell our former alpha we’re consulting with witches.

“I don’t know how much I can do for her, Dad,” Sawyer says. “Can you bring her to the infirmary? They might be able to help.”

“I can,” Lucas tells him. He throws one last suspicious look towards me, then scoops the woman off the table and into his arms again. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Sawyer nods. “Thank you.”

As soon as the door shuts behind him and the sound of his footsteps fades into the distance, I wheel around on my husband, breathing heavily.

“I know how everyone feels,” I start, “but I’m not ashamed to have lived in that coven.”

“I know,” Sawyer murmurs.

“Honestly, I think it’s really stupid that we’re supposed to hate another group of people for something that no one even remembers!” I hiss.

“Alright, alright, Greg ,” Sawyer says, gesturing with his hands to calm me down. “I hear you, Lacey. And honestly, after everything I’ve seen from those twin friends of yours, I’m starting to come around to your side.”

The tension in my shoulders relaxes significantly. “Thank you.”

“However,” he continues, “the others in this village? They’re going to need a lot more convincing than I do.”

There’s a steely look in his eyes; all I can do is nod in response.

***

The mess hall is abuzz with whispers and theories tonight. I hear the name “Cassie” over and over again and realize that she must have been the woman who caught the plague.

“I saw Lucas bringing her to the infirmary.”

“Did you see her?”

“What were all of those spots?”

My mouth runs dry as I walk through the mess hall with my plate and Shea’s. I need to find the table Greg is sitting at with my daughter. If only for a moment, I need to get away from all of these mutterings.

“I mean, seriously, is Sawyer going to do a fucking thing about it?” a man says, probably much louder than he meant to.

And by the time he closes his mouth, the damage is done. The whispers rise in volume. By the time I’d located my brother and sat down, the people in the town hall were halfway to rioting.

“People are getting sick!”

“The plants! Who’s going to do something about the plants?”

“Can we even trust the water ? I mean, come on!”

My eyes widen as I try to find Sawyer. He’s been standing at the back of the room with Jasper and Ellis, thinking, watching his people for any more signs of the plague. He must hear what people are saying. They all must.

“Do something!” an old man yells gruffly. “What’s the point in all of these alphas if no one’s going to stop this!”

“ Silence !” Sawyer roars over the din.

Though his power is being questioned, it’s still respected enough that the shouting stops. I turn to check in on Shea, whose eyes are like saucers.

“Why are people yelling at Daddy?” she asks.

“It’s okay,” Greg murmurs in her ear. “Your dad’s got this.”

I nod, reinforcing what her uncle just said, then look back at my husband.

“I’m hearing that your trust in me as a leader is waning,” Sawyer projects across the mess hall. “But I assure you, Ellis, Jasper, and I are doing everything in our power to discover the source of what’s going on, and, more importantly, trying to stop this.

“All I ask of you is that you regain your trust,” he continues.

“Send your best wishes that our sister Cassie recovers well. And do what you can to look after each other in these trying times, rather than fighting with each other over small issues. Quell your rage, because it only serves to pull us apart, rather than keep us together.”

My lips part as I stare at him. There’s a burning in my chest as I watch my husband gaze across the hall, almost as though he’s begging for someone to retaliate against his message. No one does, thankfully, and it only makes my heart swell even more.

It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time again. Like I’m that young girl discovering she has a crush on her older brother’s friend once more.

I’ve always known that his face was molded by the gods. I’ve always appreciated the way he carries himself. The broadness of his shoulders, the length of his legs.

But that’s all physical. Now I’m seeing Sawyer truly in his element. He’s no longer just my brother’s friend. He’s the powerful alpha he was groomed to be.

And I’m falling in love with him all over again.