Page 18 of Brutal Alpha's Forced Mate

He hums, unconvinced, but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he pushes off the fence and moves toward the sparring ring.

I tell myself I’m not watching him as he squares off with Theo, but my eyes betray me.

The two of them move like they’ve done this a hundred times. Their strikes and counters are perfectly in sync. Gray ducks under Theo’s swing, delivering a sharp jab to his ribs that earns a grunt of approval. It’s almost like a dance, the way he moves—calm, controlled, and so damn confident.

“Careful,” Theo calls out to me as he catches my gaze over Gray’s shoulder. “You keep staring like that, and people might start talking.”

“I wasn’t staring,” I protest, but my voice wavers.

Theo grins, dodging Gray’s next strike. “Whatever you say, Jaslyn.”

Gray glances back at me, and my stomach flips. I turn away before he can say anything, heading toward the packhouse with my heart pounding in my chest.

I tell myself it’s frustration, not something else. But I’m not sure I believe it anymore.

By the time we fall into a routine, the packhouse feels less like a looming prison and more like… well, something tolerable. I wouldn’t call it home—not yet—but the weight in my chest eases bit by bit.

Gray is everywhere, and his presence is like the static of a storm on the horizon. It’s impossible to avoid him, though I’ve stopped actively trying. It’s not because I trust him—not entirely, anyway—but because every time I push, he doesn’t push back. He doesn’t try to force my cooperation or prod me into gratitude. It’s unsettling in its own way, his quiet patience.

But if there’s one thing I can’t ignore, it’s the way the rest of the pack watches him. They look at him with respect, trust,loyalty. It’s disarming to see, and a tiny part of me wonders if maybe there’s more to him than I’ve allowed myself to see.

Still, when I finally approach him with my request, I’m braced for a fight.

“Take me to the last demon-sighting,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe of his office.

Gray looks up from his desk, his pen pausing mid-signature. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He sets the pen down and leans back in his chair. “Why?”

“Because if you’re serious about me helping, I need to see it for myself. I can’t just throw wards at a problem I don’t understand.”

He studies me for a long moment, and I resist the urge to fidget under his gaze. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

“I’m not a child, Gray.”

“No,” he agrees, standing and grabbing his jacket. “You’re not. But that doesn’t mean this won’t be dangerous.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

He doesn’t argue. Instead, he gestures for me to follow, and we head out into the crisp morning air.

The drive to the last demon-sighting area is quiet, the kind of silence that feels heavy with unsaid things. Gray keeps his eyes on the road, drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. I keep mine on the horizon, but the knot in my stomach tightens the closer we get.

When the truck finally rolls to a stop, the forest around us feels different. It’s still, but not in a peaceful way. The air feelssaturated with something dark and heavy, and I can’t shake the sensation of being watched.

“This is it,” Gray announces, stepping out of the truck.

I follow with my boots crunching against the dry leaves as I scan the area. It looks ordinary enough—a clearing surrounded by towering pines, sunlight filtering through the branches. But the moment I step forward, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“There’s something here,” I comment, closing my eyes and reaching out with my magic. The energy in the air is faint, like a shadow of something long gone, but it’s there. Dark and cold, clinging to the edges of the clearing.

“Still a threat?” Gray questions.

“I don’t think so,” I reply, though my tone lacks certainty. “Whatever it was, it’s not here anymore. But the residue… it’s strong.”

Before he can respond, the sound of footsteps draws our attention. I turn to see two women approaching—a tall brunette with russet-colored eyes and a shorter, curvier woman with black hair and blue eyes. Their presence radiates magic, and I immediately know they’re witches.

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