Page 8 of Cruel Alpha Beast (Roseville Alphas #1)

After five years away, it feels so strange to be walking through the valley like this, especially with Sawyer at my side.

An older woman tending her garden looks at us from under her floppy sun hat. Her eyes narrow on me, but when she sees her alpha standing with me, her face softens into one of confusion, then resignation that maybe I’m someone to be respected now.

I have always been someone who should be respected, but at least people are realizing that now.

Our walk to the outskirts of town is silent, just like much of our breakfast this morning was. Sawyer tried his damnedest to make small talk, but I was not into it. It’s too soon for me to talk to him like we’re friends. And him forcing me to marry him definitely set that back quite a few steps.

I can tell that he wants to say something, but he’s biting his tongue. It’s fine by me. I don’t really want to hear anything from him, anyway except for maybe an apology, or any sort of acknowledgment that he did something wrong.

As our feet touch the earth and we travel to the edge of the forest, I sense Sawyer slowing down to a stop. He pauses and stares out at the trees.

“I’ve been coming here a lot,” he tells me, glancing down at the worn-down patch of earth below his sneakers. “For years, Lacey. I never knew why…”

I sigh heavily. “We must have made a connection when Shea was conceived.”

Sawyer’s eyes snap to mine. There’s a soft look in his eyes. Thoughtful. A rare sight, if you ask me.

“Have you felt it?” he asks.

“Not really.” I swallow hard, looking back at the path ahead of us. “I must have buried it deep inside of me ages ago.”

He stares at me for a long time before asking a simple, powerful question.

“Why?”

My chest burns at this. He knows. How can he not know? Is this self-preservation making him ask this? Does he not want to admit that he treated me so poorly for so long?

Instead of lashing out like I want to, I catch his eye and make sure he listens.

“You really hurt me, Sawyer,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says, surprising me. “And I’m sorry.”

There it is. The apology. The acknowledgment I’ve been wanting all of this time. But why does it not feel as good as I want it to?

“Come on,” I mutter, turning away.

As I travel the same path I ran down the night he shattered my heart into a million pieces, I can’t help wondering if Sawyer is being completely honest with me.

If he were really sorry, I feel like he would have said something earlier.

It wouldn’t have just been an easy response to me simply telling him how his actions affected me.

On the other hand, though, his apology could be sincere, and maybe I’m just too damaged to accept it.

Maybe this is my head and my heart colluding, telling me that I can’t just let him in again.

That if I fall for his charms, it will only allow him to hurt me so deeply, so irrevocably, all over again.

My heart aches in my chest as we approach the entrance to the coven’s village. I consider warning Sawyer that he may not receive a warm welcome, but he’s a tough, powerful alpha. He can handle it.

I lead him through the thinning trees, and finally, the bones of a small village appear in the distance. Women of all ages wander around, taking care of themselves, but it’s a young woman with strawberry blonde hair who comes up to greet us.

“Lacey?” she says, colder than I was expecting.

“Violet, hi—”

“You brought a man to our sacred coven?” Violet cuts me off venomously, sniffing the air for who knows what. “What are you thinking?”

“Violet, it’s fine. I can vouch for him,” I splutter. “It’s me.”

“I thought you were a lot smarter than this,” Violet says. “He’s a man . And even worse, a wolf . We have rules, Lacey. I know you didn’t grow up here like some of us did, but you should know better.”

At my side, I can feel Sawyer tensing up. I reach back and grab his arm, hoping he’ll sense that I can handle this myself. Besides, if he’s smart, then he’ll know that him making a scene is only going to make things worse here.

“Violet, we need to find the twins,” I say calmly. “Sawyer isn’t moving in. We just need to talk to Danielle and Monroe, maybe even to Penelope, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“I still don’t think we should let you in,” Violet sneers, folding her arms across her chest. “You’ve clearly lost all sense of judgment.”

“Lacey!”

I glance away from Violet’s piercing eyes and see Monroe rushing over toward us, her honey-colored hair flowing behind her. When she gets close enough, she throws her arms around me and gives me a warm hug.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Monroe says. Then, as if just noticing Sawyer, she pulls back and stares at him. “You’ve brought a guest.”

“A wolf ,” Violet hisses.

Monroe gulps, then grabs onto my hand protectively. “Penelope always says we should treat our guests with respect, Violet. And if this man has Lacey’s stamp of approval, then that’s good enough for me.”

I’m not sure if I would give Sawyer my “stamp of approval,” but if Monroe’s statement helps me get the answers I need, then so be it. I’ll go along with anything. I stare into Violet’s narrowing eyes and nod my head.

Violet finally wheels around and stomps off.

“It’s so good to see you, Monroe,” I say to my friend.

But her smile has faded some, now that Violet is out of earshot. “Lacey, I love you, but this might not have been the best idea. You know how we feel about shifters here.”

A heavy breath falls from my lips. “You know as well as I do that even though I don’t shift, I’m still a wolf at my core. I’ve lived here for five years and have given no one a reason to doubt my intentions. Please, don’t start now. Especially not you.”

Monroe chews on her bottom lip, her eyes casting downward.

“This man, Sawyer,” I continue, gesturing toward him. “He’s my husband.”

Her mouth suddenly falls open. “What?”

“He—” I cut myself off from telling her the cold, hard truth. That I was coerced into becoming his wife. It won’t help our case any. “ We got married last night.”

Monroe looks back and forth, from Sawyer to me, several times. “O-okay. I guess that’s… That’s good enough. Come on in, guys.”

As we walk further into the village, it feels like things are back to how they were before I ran away from the valley. People stare judgmentally, whispering to their neighbors. I should have thought about bringing Sawyer here a little more, I guess.

“So, I’m the only man here?” Sawyer murmurs into my ear as we follow Monroe. “How does that work?”

“A lot of women come here on their own,” I tell him.

“Sometimes it’s after they become a widow, sometimes it’s after a divorce.

Some women here were orphans whom our leader, Penelope, adopted and raised.

Sometimes, our witches will go out and find lovers, but most come back here alone. Or with their daughters.”

Sawyer nods and then quiets himself down.

The rest of our walk is silent as Monroe leads us to the house where she and her sister took me in.

She opens the door for us, and I’m brought back to the cozy living room I’ve spent countless hours in.

I see some of Shea’s toys still put away in the corner, which fills my heart with sadness.

If I hadn’t left, she and I would be coloring at her little desk right now. Or maybe she would be begging me to read her a story. Either way, things would be back to normal.

But my brother would still be in peril.

Danielle comes out of the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee in her hands. Her smile widens as she lays eyes on me, but like her sister’s, it fades when she sees Sawyer.

“Who is this gentlewolf?” Danielle asks in a strangely formal voice.

Sawyer sighs behind me, quiet enough so that only I can hear it.

“This is Lacey’s new husband ,” Monroe says pointedly.

“You weren’t even gone for twenty-four hours,” Danielle breathes out. “Damn, you move fast.”

I roll my eyes. “Look, it’s just a—”

“Excuse me.”

My mouth goes dry. I turn and look at Sawyer, who’s stepping out from behind my elbow. “What are you doing?” I hiss.

“I know our kinds are not allies,” Sawyer says calmly. “Wolves and witches have hated each other for centuries.”

Danielle is careful to cross her arms and not spill hot coffee all over herself. “That we have.”

“I don’t want to be here any more than you want to have me in your lovely home,” he continues. “Though, I will tell you that Lacey and Shea are my highest priorities right now.”

Danielle cocks an eyebrow at me, as if to ask if Sawyer is Shea’s real father. I give her a subtle nod. She traces the details of Sawyer’s face, then pulls an expression to tell me she approves of him, physically, at least.

“As an alpha, I have a town and a valley to take care of,” Sawyer tells her, unaware of our silent conversation. “But as a father and a husband, I must keep my family safe at all costs. Even if it means entering the belly of the beast.”

He finds the crocheted doilies and cozy blankets strewn about the house.

“So to speak.”

I almost laugh at this, but I’m still angry with Sawyer for all that he’s done. Though I must admit, it’s nice to hear him speak about our daughter and me like this to my friends.

Danielle exchanges glances with Monroe, then she starts nodding her head very slowly. “Lacey and Shea are two of the most important people to us. They are as much our family as we are to each other, and we’re identical twins.”

My mouth curves into a smile.

“You are welcome here,” Danielle finishes. “I can’t say you’ll have free rein of the village, but you can stay here with us for as long as you need.”

“Where is Shea, though?” Monroe pipes up.

“She’s safe with my brother,” I tell her.

“Good,” she breathes.

“And what brings you back here so soon?” Danielle asks. “I thought you would be staying with Greg for a couple of days. Now you’re married ?”

“It’s a long story,” I say quickly. “But what I really need to tell you about is this vision I just had this morning.”

Danielle’s eyebrows lift up high on her forehead. “ Again ? You’ve been having so many lately.”

“I know,” I tell her solemnly. “And all of them have been really concerning.”

“Was it…more of the same?” Danielle asks. “Blood and guts and disease?”

I nod my head. “Except this time, there was a willow tree. And it was on fire.”

Danielle’s eyebrows furrow, like she’s recalling something she hasn’t thought of in some time. “Monroe, do you remember the story the wise women used to tell us when we were kids?”

“I—I think so.” Monroe clams a hand down on her hip as she tries to remember it, herself.

“It was something about a witch long ago,” Danielle says slowly as it all comes back to her. “She was wronged by a pack of shifters, and then she was turned into a tree. For the most part, she’s dormant, but every so often, her spirit reactivates, and she tries to get her revenge.”

“ When the willow is afire, wash it down with your desire ,” Sawyer recites.

Danielle looks at him strangely. “Where did you hear that before?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “What does that even mean?”

“The saying has been in my family for generations,” Sawyer tells Danielle. “I have no idea what it means, though. All I know is there’s a tapestry in our meeting hall with a burning tree, a woman, a wolf, and a wave of water.”

I furrow my brow, the image of that tapestry returning to my mind after so many years away. I even walked past it the afternoon before, when I came to find Greg, but I didn’t think anything of it.

“Why don’t you guys sit for a second?” Danielle offers, putting her coffee down on a nearby coaster. “I’ll be right back.”

Monroe brandishes the couch. I lead Sawyer over to it, and we sit down, several inches apart from each other. Monroe hovers by the armchair, remaining on her feet.

“Do you know what this is about?” I ask her.

Monroe shrugs her shoulders. “I have my theories, but I’m not really sure.”

I can hear Danielle rummaging through the drawers in her bedroom. After several moments of thick silence, she comes back into view, bearing an old, yellowed scroll of parchment. She comes to Monroe’s side and unfurls it, turning the scroll around to show Sawyer and me an ink drawing.

There’s a snarling wolf, and next to it is a human woman who hurls a magic water ball toward a beautiful witch. But the witch is halfway in the process of turning into a willow tree. A tree whose drooping branches have caught on fire.