Page 13 of Ruthless Alpha Beast

As the afternoon turned to evening and I spent the time drinking and feasting with my pack, my mind still raced.

It was like I could still taste Tara on my lips, like there was something she was reminding me to pay attention to.

Again, it was either that or I was ridiculously horny.

As I settled down for bed, I closed my eyes and prepared to drift off. Usually, with all the shit I have to deal with, I’m out like a light in seconds.

But hours passed, and my chest continued to tighten; my ears were acutely attuned to everything happening outside.

Much of my pack stays out late, and usually I don’t hear them because I’m out by ten. But last night, I heard every conversation, every shift, every singular pulse of music from their portable speakers.

I was going insane.

I considered going for a run, and then things got worse.

Soon I was transported back to the night I first met Tara, to everything we shared, and to that horrible morning after.

The memories filled me with such an overwhelming amount of shame and dread that I couldn’t even think about moving. How could I have gotten involved with a human like that? How could I have kissed her again?

But at least one good thing came out of this, I thought, at least Penelope will think I’m more open and hopefully leave me alone.

The idea of marrying a witch is crazy. Imagine if my pack thought I was marrying a human?

Then I froze.

My eyes shot open, and I smiled.

There it is.

I stand before Tara, running on hardly any sleep, but certain of the genius plan I’ve concocted in my head.

“What do you want?” She groans.

“I would say good morning,” I smirk. “But I hope you know it’s not actually the morning.”

Rule number one of persuading someone is to flatter them first, but I can’t help myself. Tara makes it too easy.

“That’s funny,” she sighs, rolling her eyes before going to slam the door.

“Hold up,” I stop her, wedging my arm between the door and its hinge. I’m careful to apply as little pressure as possible; I don’t want to split her in half with the door.

“If you’re here to tease me,” she murmurs. “Trust me when I tell you that I’m not in the mood.”

“I can see that,” I respond. “But I’m not going to tease you anymore, I promise. I have a proposal for you.”

She squints her face, loosening her grip on the door, but eyeing me as though I’d just told her I killed her cat.

Humans, I know, love their cats.

“What kind of proposal?” She says.

“Will you let me come in?”

Her cabin isn’t exactly in the center of town, and I know that her neighbors are definitely out of their houses by now, asmost sane people are at this time of the day. But still, what I’m proposing isn’t something I can risk anyone hearing.

“You’re not coming in,” she sighs. “Quite frankly, I don’t trust you.”

I wince. “What do you think I’m going to do, Tara?”