Page 41 of Ruthless Alpha Beast

“Yes,” he responds. “There was a curse put on our valley by a spiteful witch many years back. It’s a curse that keeps almost destroying the valley, and every time we try to do something about it, it goes away for a little while before eventually coming back. I thought Willow was gone for good this time, clearly not.”

“Willow is the witch?”

“Yeah.”

“But why would she make a curse? I know you have your prejudices against the witches, but they seemnice. Nicer than some of the shifters, actually…”

I stop myself, but he gets the point. As far as I’ve been concerned, the witches have been nothing but welcoming; his pack, not so much.

“Nicer than some Alphas?”

“Hmm,” I smile. “Maybe.”

At least his pained sounds have gotten quieter, at least he’s now making jokes. And why do I care so much?

I’m an empathetic person; it’s just the way I am.

“The reason,” he says. “Is because while the witches might be a little more open to humans, historically they’ve hated shifters. The witch, Willow, was once the leader of a coven that lived in harmony with shifters. She fell in love with an Alpha who rejected her after they made love. She was so pissed that she took her coven away and plagued the land that we are currently on. She’s vengeful, spiteful, and just won’t fucking die.”

Scorned by an Alpha after being intimate, I get the rage.

But, as someone living in Roseville, among the shifters, I too care about the place not being destroyed.

“Who was the intruder, then? Willow?”

“Kinda,” he says. “She manifests in the form of these monsters—shadow monsters, they plague the valley anytime the decay returns again.”

“Are they the things that hurt you?”

He chuckles.

“Why are youlaughing?”

“The way that you said that just sounds funny. They didn’thurtme; they injured me a little.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay,injuredyou and it’s not exactly a little, but sure.”

The ego on him.

“But yes, it was them. And really, I’m fine, I got out alive, but not everyone did.”

He trails off a little at the end, and I can hear the grief in his voice. It makes my chest ache.

“Someone passed away?” I ask him, as softly as possible.

“We found a dead shifter. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him. Not one of ours, but still. Awful. And if it happened to someone in our pack, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive myself.”

I catch a glimpse of his hardened expression through a gap next to the pillow. He’s staring angrily up at the ceiling, his face the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen it.

A sharp pulse passes through my chest.

“But it wasn’t your fault,” I say. “There’s nothing you could have done; you came as quickly as you could.”

“No,” he says. “But if anything happens to a shifter nearby, it’s partly my fault. I’m supposed to be protecting this land.”

“But you can’t control everything that happens.”

“It’s the responsibility I’ve signed up for,” he says. “I’m a leader. Everything ultimately rests on my shoulders.”