Page 12 of Ruthless Alpha Beast

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The next day, I wake up with damp hair and a sinking feeling in my chest. It suddenly becomes so clear to me.

Jasper kissing me like that was just another one of his sadistic bullying tactics.

“Thatasshole,” I hiss to my sun-lit ceiling.

He’s trying to tease me, trying to push me so hard that I’ll leave. But it’s not going to work. Just because he’s a prejudiced asshole doesn’t mean that I’m going to give up my new home, the one thing that’s made me feel like I finally have a place in this world.

“I hate him,” I murmur, thinking back to the way that I completely collapsed into his arms when he kissed me.

“I hate him!” I yell.

Then suddenly, I hear three loud knocks coming from my cabin’s door.

My chest jumps a little at first, but then I feel relieved. Lacey! This is perfect, I need whatever distraction I can get. I jump up and pull a baggy tee over my head, sliding into a pair of old track pants.

I’m coming, Lacey.

Maybe we can go to that bookstore I’ve been trying to get to near the outskirts of Roseville. I’d love to read some more witchy things.

I rush downstairs, filled with newfound hope, and I’m damn near skipping.

I swing the door wide open, and-

Oh.

Jasper is standing there, face masked with a determined expression. I exhale a slow, disappointed breath.

You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me.

Chapter 4 - Jasper

Tara’s face drops as soon as she sees me. I can’t say that I’m surprised.

Her hair is still wet, her eyes look puffy and sultry, as though she’s just woken up. What is it, midday?

I ignore her flushed, sleepy expression along with the curve of her breasts resting beneath her tee.

I’ve come here for a reason, to present her with an offer she won’t be able to refuse.

After I kissed her yesterday, and she left me high and dry, which I can’t blame her for, but she didn’t have to say all that she said. I was hardly able to get through my day without thinking about her.

I thought about the kiss, what I said to Penelope, and her promise of discretion.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the valley knew about that kiss by now. Given the history, I know better than to trust a witch.

But even as I turned my attention to the more pressing matters of business during an afternoon council meeting, I still had this strange feeling lingering in my chest.

I couldn’t focus.

Usually, my idiocyleadsme somewhere; there’s usually a positive outcome or a lesson that makes it all make sense. Something to be learned.

What was the point of all this?

It bugged me.

Was it just that I was horny and made a stupid mistake? Was it just that I, avoiding an uncomfortable confrontation with Penelope, now know better than to ever go to the witches’ market again?