Page 10 of Cruel Alpha (Nightfire Islands Alphas #1)

You’re the one who let some worthless dog knock you up. The words rang in my head long after Caleb stalked from the house, letting the door slam behind him. That had woken Jack up, which had woken Emmy up, and it had taken half an hour to get them both back down. I hadn’t lied: he was a worthless dog, and I’d known that from the start.

I’d assumed, while I was gone, that Caleb must be amusing himself with the unmated females on the island. Hell, maybe even a few of the mated ones. Girls had always been all over him, and there were more than a few lower-ranking males on Lapine who would let their mate into the Alpha’s bed for a chance at leaving their quarry jobs behind and being promoted to Beta. I hadn’t thought he’d be inconsiderate enough to organize a rendezvous right in front of me—while he was holding my child, our child, no less.

I barely acknowledged Julia when she cautiously returned home because I didn’t trust myself to speak without breaking down, and I was done letting Caleb Thorne do that to me. I was in control. I was in control of my emotions, my body, and my fate.

I was not, apparently, in control of my sleep schedule. I’d grown used to little knees and elbows poking me in the night, to the little snorts and huffs of the babies sharing my bed, but the night after Caleb and I fought, sleep eluded me entirely. In the end, I gave up on the bed, afraid of waking Jack or Emmy—or, God forbid, both—and padded downstairs to toss and turn on the couch instead.

Apparently, my tossing and turning and trips to the bathroom and the fridge had been loud enough to keep Julia up as well, so in the morning, I was shooed out of the house for “a nice relaxing walk” while she kept an eye on the twins.

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Walking around the outskirts of town did help me relax. It was a nice day for walking; the sun was high in the sky but far from hot, so even after an hour or so at a brisk pace, I wasn’t too sweaty under my coat. The steady puff of my breath and the rhythm of my steps was meditative, and without the twins at my heels, I could allow my mind to be blissfully blank.

Running as a wolf would be even better, and I knew it, but I was also too weak to keep my wolf’s skin for longer than a few minutes, and I wasn’t risking the mortification of walking through town and back to Julia’s buck-ass naked in the cold. The Pack didn’t need another reason to gossip about me.

As if summoned, the main reason the Pack gossiped about me appeared in my path. Caleb looked almost as tired as I felt, which was satisfying, but it also made me want to reach out and smooth away the bags from under his eyes.

“Julia said you’d be out here,” he said. He looked—awkward? Apologetic? Angry? He was always one of those things, but right now, I wasn’t sure which one.

“Tell her she’s a dirty snitch,” I replied, not slowing my pace; he kept up with me easily, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered.

“You shouldn't be so far from town alone.” He was like a stuck record. Was that the reason he’d followed me out here? To curtail the first thing I’d really enjoyed since we fled Arbor? Did he like making me miserable?

“I’m alive,” I pointed out. Characteristically, Caleb ignored me.

“You’re coming back with me to the hall,” he said. His voice was tinged with Alpha authority, but he’d yet to realize that it didn’t work on me the way it worked on the rest of the Pack. I carried on walking.

“Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, you are,” he growled, catching me on my upper arm, forcing me to halt. “Be as mad about it as you want. It’ll probably help.”

I looked down at where he gripped my arm; his hand was so big that his fingers formed an easy circle around it. He wasn’t hurting me, but there was no way I could break free either.

“You gonna make me?” I asked, staring up at him. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore; he’d done everything he could to hurt me already.

“No,” he said, “but if you want to let off some steam, now’s your opportunity.” He smiled, his white canines glinting in the light. I did need to let off some steam, and he’d succeeded in making me curious.

“Fine,” I said. He released my arm.

“Good.”

We walked back into town in silence. Luckily, most of the Pack was busy with work and didn’t have time to gawk at me. The few who were out on their porches or roaming the streets still glanced our way, but none of them dared to look at Caleb wrong. If he’d ever claimed me as his mate, if he’d been brave enough to tell the Pack the truth , they wouldn’t dare to look at me wrong, either. For all his talk of protecting me, he’d never lifted a finger to protect me from the people he had the most power to protect me from.

I was surprised when we reached the hall and Caleb pushed open the door, holding it for me.

“After you.”

Inside, all the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side, leaving the space completely open. Usually, there’d be school going on at this time, the Pack young divided by age and dotted around the hall in little groups, but the space was empty and silent. When I spoke, my voice echoed in the empty space.

“What are we doing here?”

“That flame trick you did on Arbor was neat,” Caleb said, “but could you do it fast enough to fend off a wolf who was coming at you?”

Whatever I’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“I don’t know. I’ve not needed to find out.” I absolutely was not going to tell him that my magic had been all but gone since I’d left Lapine and that his presence was the only thing that had managed to coax it back to life. Caleb frowned.

“Can you do any other kinds of magic?” he asked. “Anything that would be useful in a fight?”

Why did he want to know? Anxiety bloomed in my chest, and I let out a nervous laugh.

“Is this you trying to tell me that I’m about to be out on my own again?” I said, trying and failing to sound like I was joking. His face fell.

“What? No, no, of course not. It’s just—you’re the target, and I’m not arrogant enough to think that my defenses are impenetrable.” That was news to me, but I wasn’t about to question him. “If it comes down to it, I need to know that you can defend yourself. Are you ready to let off that steam?”

With that, he put a hand to the nape of his own neck, pulling off his shirt in one swift movement, and any objections I’d had—along with all other coherent thoughts—fled my mind. I’d seen him without a shirt plenty of times, yet the sight took my breath away regardless. I tried not to linger on his toned stomach and the cut vee that disappeared into his jeans, but clearly, I was blushing because when I met his eyes again, he was grinning, smug.

“A little privacy, please?” He put a hand on his zipper, and I almost turned away on instinct before I mastered myself. He wasn’t going to embarrass me that easily.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I said with a shrug.

“Suit yourself.”

I kept my eyes firmly on his face as Caleb dropped his pants and his underwear in one swift motion. I stared purposefully at the wall as he bent to gather his discarded clothes. Caleb Thorne was an asshole, I reminded myself. He was an asshole with a huge ego and a mean streak and pretty eyes and a perfect butt that I absolutely was not looking at.

He straightened up, clearing his throat, and I jumped.

“You ready?” he asked, a note of teasing in his voice.

“Are the Arbor wolves going to ask me if I’m ready?” I countered, and he smiled.

“I guess not.”

Then he shifted. Contrary to what humans thought, shifting was a skill. Sure, some of us were born with the ability to do it, but very few shifters ever really perfected it the way Caleb had. One second he was there, smug and naked and human, then I blinked, and he was a wolf. I knew, I’d always known, how big his wolf was, yet it took me by surprise every time. The beast toward above me, so black he was like a great void in space, broken only by a flash of white between his shoulder blades and two utterly human blue eyes. Eyes that were watching me like a predator watches prey.

He didn’t come at me straight away. He circled me as if he was sizing me up. It was a mistake on his part—while he was wasting time, I was finding my magic. I’d never been trained in how to use it properly—witches might not avoid Lapine the way they avoided Arbor or Cunic, but they far preferred places like Argent and Ferris and Opifex—so the little of it I could wield was purely instinctual. It still didn’t come straight to me unless I was in danger, but it felt closer than it ever had before. I only had to reach out, to take it, and it was there in my hands. I waited.

Caleb leaped forward, but I was ready for him. My arms went up, and instead of catching me in his jaws, he smashed straight into a wall of energy that sent him sprawling back. For a moment, I laughed at the way he scrambled back to his feet, but he was coming at me again, too fast for me to enjoy my victory for long. This time, he saw me prepare the shield, and he leaped over my head, coming to land behind me, and then it was my turn to hit the floor face-first. For a few moments, I could feel the heavy heat of him at my back, his wet nose on the back of my neck, before he pulled away, giving me a few seconds to get to my feet before he attacked again.

This time, I chose fire. When Caleb made his third attack, I sent flame arcing through the air in front of me, like I’d done on the night I fled from Arbor, and the smell of singed hair hit my nostrils as Caleb flinched away and out of range. In an instant, he’d turned and come back at me from a new angle, and a heavy paw landed against my ribcage. His claws were sheathed, the blow soft, and it sent rage shuddering through me.

“Stop it!” I snapped. Caleb sat immediately—the hulking beast suddenly an obedient dog—and tilted his head, confused.

“You’re going easy on me, I can tell. Stop pulling your punches.” I readied myself again, but Caleb remained where he was, sitting in front of me with his head cocked to the side. His eyes were sharp and blue and so human; they examined me like a laboratory experiment, and I cringed.

Conjuring a handful of flame, I hurled it at his head, but he dodged it easily. I tried again. And again. And again. With each failed attack, he came closer to me; I could feel his hot breath on my face, and if this was real combat, I’d be dead in an instant with my head between his jaws. He didn’t strike me, though, only nudged his nose against my cheek as if to say, “I win.”

To my surprise, I felt a growl rumble in my chest as my hands began to glow, and I pushed him back with all my might. If he wanted me to be ready for a fight, he needed to fight me properly, with claws and teeth. I wanted him to be as merciless with my body as he had been with my heart, if only because I could not stomach the strange tenderness of his wolf’s nose on my skin and the softness of his fur.

“Again,” I said, pushing forward, this time with the fire held in my hands. He’d have to come close, have to use all his strength to stop me from burying my flaming hands in his fur, but he never did. Every time I lurched forward, he only danced out of my path, avoiding the swing of my flaming fists, refusing to engage me. My lungs were burning, heart pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps by the time he saw an opening and lunged, pinning me to the ground with one smooth motion. For a moment, I saw stars, and when my vision cleared, he had shifted back to his human form.

Caleb loomed over me, his hands holding my wrists against the stone floor of the hall. Bracketing my legs with his own. It was an awful facsimile of the embrace we’d shared three years and a lifetime ago, down to our heavy breaths and sweat-shiny skin.

“Are you done?” Caleb asked quietly.

“Why won’t you fight me properly?” I demanded, bucking up my hips in an attempt to break free, but he only squeezed my wrists, looking pained.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Alyssa,” he breathed, and I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Looking up at him from my back, our bodies pressed together from our chests to our toes, I said,

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”