Page 7 of Cruel Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #1)

I woke the next morning feeling far different than I had the day before. Yesterday, I awoke in a state of gloom, half-expecting the valley to be on fire at this point. But today, I feel like there’s hope on the horizon.

For one split second, I wonder what it is that’s making me feel this way. Am I dreaming? Could this all be an illusion?

But then I remember what happened last night. I married Lacey, the girl who got away. Though our wedding was not what I hoped it would be, I feel much better knowing that she and our daughter are within my grasp. Safe. Secure.

That’s right, I remember. After all of this time, I have found out that I’m a father. It’s still hard to reconcile, but there have been many moments where I’ve felt like something is missing in my life. It must have been Shea.

Truly, I’ve missed so much. The last five years have blown by for me, but for Lacey, she’s been through so much.

Learning she was pregnant in the first place, carrying our daughter, giving birth, and even raising her.

And I had no idea about it. For all I know, aside from a few phone calls with Greg, she could have been completely alone.

Yawning, I stretch out my arms and roll onto my left side.

My heart swells at the thought of turning over and finding the beautiful woman I married lying beside me on the mattress.

I can smell her flowery perfume wafting up from the pillow and through the air, but when I finally roll onto my other side, the bed is empty.

I jolt up onto my arm, then sit up straight. I glance around the room, finding my dresser and floor-length mirror in their usual spots. But no Lacey anywhere that I can see.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, clambering out of bed as fast as I can. “She’s running away again, isn’t she?”

But then I can sense something. Her presence. It’s here, somewhere, I can feel it. She didn’t run away. She’s somewhere in the house.

Wearing nothing but my boxer shorts, I cross the carpeted floor and carry on until I’m at the top of the stairs leading down to the rest of the house. Rising up into the air is the delicious scent of bacon cooking on the stove. My stomach is rumbling the loudest it’s ever been.

Stepping through the living room, I find the kitchen in no time.

Standing in front of the pan crackling on the stove is my beautiful wife.

She uses one hand to flip the bacon, leaning away from the popping grease to avoid a nasty burn.

With her other hand, she grips the hourglass curve of her waist.

My first instinct is to come up behind her and slip my arms around her, holding her close to my body, but I know I can’t do that. From all I’ve been able to see, she is still angry with me, and she has a reason. I was truly awful to her in my youth.

So, instead of touching her, I keep my hands to myself.

For a moment, I merely stand there, watching, admiring the dark blue sundress she must have packed along with her when she came back to the valley.

At the top of her head, her black hair is tied up in a bun, wet from a shower she clearly had taken while I was still asleep.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me make breakfast?” Lacey asks. She turns around and eyes me up and down. “I, uh, I could sense you watching me.”

“You could?”

I step forward and find a pan of half-scrambled eggs on another burner. Using the rubber spatula sitting in the middle of the pan, I drag it through the eggs, helping to scramble them further. Lacey gives me a sidelong glance, but goes back to focusing on the bacon.

“I didn’t know you could sense things like that,” I continue.

“Just because I can’t turn into a wolf doesn’t mean I don’t have shifter blood in me.” Lacey jerks away from another grease bubble popping. “But also, I heard you coming down the stairs earlier. You’re a heavy stepper. I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you that.”

I snicker at this like it’s a joke, but when I see Lacey’s stone-cold face, I can’t say for certain that was her intent.

“No one has,” I reply. “But most people respect my authority as an alpha.”

“Lucky you,” Lacey mutters down to the bacon.

Standing side-by-side, we finish making breakfast in silence.

There’s so much that I want to say, so many questions I feel I have the right to ask, but I can’t bring myself to say anything.

I mean, I’ve just basically forced Lacey to marry me.

I’m beyond fortunate that she’s standing here, cooking for me.

I shouldn’t push my luck with her any further. Not today, at least. So, I’m happy to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. And I’m even happier to gaze upon her beauty.

Once breakfast is ready, we sit down at my small kitchen table by the window.

There have always been four chairs, though it’s rare that the three others are used by anyone.

I’ve lived alone my entire adult life, but I’ve longed for a family.

I suppose I was waiting for Lacey to return, and now here she is, sitting across from me like she has in my dreams.

Lifting a piece of bacon to my mouth, I bite into it with a loud crunch. It’s perfectly crispy, just how I like it, and its smoky taste is to die for. Once I’ve swallowed, I consider telling Lacey that she’s done an incredible job, but when my eyes find her, I can sense something is off.

There’s a thick layer of awkwardness over both of our heads. She pushes her scrambled eggs back and forth on her plate, ignoring the most incredible bacon I’ve ever tasted in my life. Her lips twist on her face, her jaw sets, and I can feel her anger without putting much thought into it.

My happiness about our wedding aside, I remember how resistant she was to the idea. In fact, when we stood by the altar, I could tell that she had even been crying about it. There was a part of me that wanted to call it off, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do that.

I need to right my past wrongs.

I need to keep her and our daughter safe.

She may not understand or appreciate what I’ve done now, but someday she will understand.

My memories of our wedding the night prior culminate in me remembering the look on her face before we came home.

Of course, my father had to bring up consummating the marriage, and I could see the panic on her face.

She didn’t want to mate with me; that much was obvious.

I watched as the relief washed over her when I told her I wasn’t expecting sex last night.

I won’t lie, it hurt. My heart still pangs just thinking about it.

Ever since our night at the lakeside, I’ve craved the feeling of her skin against mine again. Nothing has ever sated that desire within me, and I fear nothing will until she and I become one again.

It’s only a matter of time, though, I think to myself.

When our eyes meet, I can feel a spark between us.

The same spark I’ve felt for all of this time.

If I can feel it, then she must, as well.

I won’t ever push the issue, but I know that there’s something there between us, whether she wants to admit it or not.

“So,” I say, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Can I ask where you’ve been for the last five years?”

Lacey finally lifts a forkful of scrambled eggs up to her mouth. She takes slow, methodical bites, almost as if she’s taking a long time to punish me.

“I didn’t make it very far,” she tells me after swallowing. “I, uh, I found a group of women out in the woods, and they took me in. And Shea, of course, when she came around.”

Lacey takes another bite, but doesn’t go any deeper into her explanation. I can tell that she’s leaving some vital details out of her story, but before I can press, something comes over her.

Her eyes become dazed, unfocused. Then, she falls back against the chair, slumping down, then remaining motionless for a moment.

“Lacey? Lacey, what’s happening?” I ask.

When she doesn’t respond, my heart begins racing faster and faster. I jump out of my seat and come to her side, grabbing onto one of her hands and the shoulder it’s connected to. I shake her gently, then vigorously when she doesn’t respond.

“Don’t you die on me, Lacey!” I shout at her. “ Lacey !”

In the next moment, her eyes finally blinked and came back into focus. She straightens up like nothing happened, but then she finds my gaze and her beautiful face crumples. Bursting into tears, she launches into my arms and weeps against my shoulder.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I murmur into her ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” she starts, but her breath hitches in her throat before she can get much else out. “I saw something.”

“What did you see?” I ask. “What just happened?”

Lacey pushes herself off my shoulder and sits back up in her chair. She wipes her tears with the back of her hand and considers her next words carefully.

“I saw… I saw a burning willow tree,” she says. “I don’t know why it’s making me so emotional, but—”

“A willow tree?” I interrupt, stunned by this revelation. “A burning willow tree?”

Lacey responds with a sniffle and a nod of her head.

When the willow is afire, wash it down with your desire .

“I don’t know what it means,” she says, her voice still thick with tears. “But I don’t usually understand these visions of mine.”

“Visions?” I echo, taken aback.

Lacey sighs and wipes at her glistening cheeks again. “Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been having visions since I was a kid.”

Another revelation. No wonder we all thought she was so strange. I mean, the shiftlessness was one thing, but the poor girl did herself no favors.

“I just remembered something,” I mutter out loud.

“I was swimming in the lake with Greg. He was trying to coax you into jumping off the dock. Your parents were talking with mine, not really paying attention. And you were telling Greg that you were too scared to jump into the water. Then you kind of spaced out and went stiff as a board before falling in. Your mom heard the splash and started screaming. Then my dad jumped in and saved you.”

Lacey’s eyes cast down toward her breakfast plate. “I remember.”

“When he got you back on the dock, he kept asking what happened and you kept saying you didn’t know,” I continue. “People were staring. That must have been why…”

“Why people thought I was such a freak show?” Lacey fills in.

She gives me a pointed, icy glance. One that makes me feel even guiltier about the way I treated her before. If that were even possible. I try to gulp down the lump in my throat and think of something to say.

I’m sorry .

The words echo through my brain, but I just can’t say them out loud for some reason. Fortunately, Lacey looks away and shrugs her shoulders.

“Anyway, I took my freaky ass into the woods and found the people who actually appreciate me for the person I am and don’t look down on me for the things I can’t do,” she says.

“It might come as a shock to you, Mr. Alpha, but there’s a coven of witches just outside of your valley. And they’re the ones who took me in.”

My mouth dries. “Witches?” I repeat. “But you know the stories—”

“The stories of witches stealing children in the night? Putting spells on shifters? Never happened,” Lacey challenges. “And trust me, shifters don’t have a great reputation in the coven, either. They think we’re all bloodthirsty brutes. Well, except for me. Mostly because I can’t shift.”

My jaw hangs open. I’m still trying to make sense of Lacey having visions. Now, knowing that our mortal enemies are just a stone’s throw away, and that my wife and child have been living among them for years, it’s a lot to take in all at once.

“Shea and I have been living with my two best friends,” Lacey adds. “Danielle and Monroe. Danielle has been amazing at helping me make sense of my visions.”

“Right,” I sigh, unsure what else to say. “And your last vision was of a burning willow tree?”

“And some other stuff,” Lacey tells me. “But I have no idea what it’s all supposed to mean. There are so many other layers to it than just the images in my head. Sometimes it’s symbolic. Sometimes it’s prophetic. I just…”

She meets my eyes again, and this time, her gaze is pleading rather than icy cold. My stomach churns in anticipation of what she’s about to say.

“I need to see Danielle,” Lacey tells me. “But now that we’re married, I can’t leave the valley without your permission.”

My throat is tight at the thought of Lacey approaching a coven of witches, even if they’re ones she’s trusted—even if they’ve kept her and Shea safe all of these years. She’s said the stories are just that, stories, but I can’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t go alone.

“Fine,” I say to her. “I’ll go with you.”