Page 21 of Alpha Bully

Sara means well, but she’s never suffered any of the problems I have. Everyone loves Sara; she has a heart of gold and a strong wolf. She’s the perfect pack member. She’s also trying to be a good friend, so I said I’d think about it. In truth, I know Harper would benefit from playing with others her own age. Before the incident with Sam at the park, I could see how much she was enjoying herself playing with other pups. But then the incidentdidhappen, and so many question marks hang over how the pack would accept her magic. It doesn’t feel worth the risk.

Sara isn’t the only one trying to push me into venturing out more, though. Callum has been hinting at various ways I could mingle with the pack, mentioning that folk are beginning to think it’s strange they don’t see us and that, although he knows I’m just trying to keep Harper safe, it’s actually only causing more problems. Iamtrying to keep Harper safe, but I’m also trying to keep myself safe—safe from the tormentors of my youth. Safe from the pain of seeing Charlie again. Safe from acknowledging that I will never be accepted.

I sigh, leaving Harper with her books for a moment to refill my coffee. Callum mentioned the pack is holding a craft fair in the hall later today. I know it was more of a suggestion than just mindless conversation, especially when he said he’d be back earlier and to think about it. I should feel grateful that he’d even thought of taking us; he’s already done so much more than he had to. He rescued us and took us in. Although I’m sure we wouldn’t still be here if it weren’t for the direct threat to Harper, I’m more than aware that we may be overstaying our welcome, and I don’t want to push him.

I hated him for rejecting me. I hated him for the fact I suffered, and Harper suffered, but I can’t deny his help now. He didn’t have to take us in; no one would have thought badly of him if he didn’t help us. I know he’s just using me for sex, just as he did before. I won’t be fooled again regarding his feelings. However much I wish it meant more.

I sigh again, pouring myself a coffee and heading back to Harper. Deep down, I know I’ll have to venture out again sooner or later if Callum asks directly, forcing my hand. I might as well get it over with now.

“Harper, what do you think about going to see the craft fair this afternoon?”

Harper looks up from her crayon work and smiles at me. “Is Cal-um coming too?” she asks excitedly.

Her growing bond with him makes my heart clench. On the one hand, seeing Harper with her father is a beautiful thing, but it’s tinged by disgrace and regret, because I feel as though I’m lying to both of them. I’m doing it to protect them both—Callum because he would be in an impossible position with my place in the pack, and Harper from losing something she can’t have. And I’m protecting myself from the risk that he may want to keep Harper but not me. A little voice whispers that I risk hurting everyone with this secret, but I push it away and nod.

“I think so. He mentioned coming back for it,” I tell her. “If he does, then we’ll go. If not, we’ll bake some more cookies, okay?”

I know I’m giving myself an out. If Callum doesn’t mention the craft fair again, then I can say we were going to go with him. That might buy me a few more days before he mentions mixing with the pack. I feel like that’s all I’m doing here—buying time. For what? Before we leave? Before the pack magically accepts me, Callum declares his love so we can live happily ever after?

Tears spring to my eyes, but I brush them away, grab Harper’s drink, and walk back over to the window seat. She looks so content here that I decide to push away the negativity and focus on her for the morning, safe here in our little bubble.

I know my out has failed as soon as Callum walks through the door, and Harper runs to him, full of enthusiasm about the craft fair. He raises his brow at me but looks pleased.

“Thought I’d have a fight on my hands there,” he says, then seeing my obviously reticent expression, he adds, “It will be good. Fun for Harper, here.”

We both look at Harper as she continues dancing in place. It’s hard not to be swept up in her enthusiasm despite my feelings at such a public outing. That’s another thing; actually goingwithCallum is going to cause a stir, I know it will. It’s one thing for the alpha to be seen to take in a woman and child who were being attacked, though I’m sure that has raised a few brows. But it’s another for us to be out together as though we’re pretending to be a couple and playing a happy family. I feel like it puts a target on my back that Callum just doesn’t see. Perhaps he just thinks it’s such a ridiculous notion; no one would even consider it a possibility anyway.

Despite my feelings, I go upstairs and brush my hair, taking time to check my appearance and make sure I look okay before we go out. I must admit, I look healthier after just a few weeks of being here. There’s a glow to my skin, and my hair looks shinier. Looking at my reflection for a second, I almost see the girl I once knew staring back at me, but she’s gone in an instant. In her place is just a mom who has to be strong to make sure her daughter gets the life she deserves.

Downstairs, I find Harper has put her shoes on herself and has even attempted to brush her own unruly curls. She’s now sitting on the stairs, bouncing up and down with excitement. I can’t help but smile at her. Her enthusiasm is infectious; maybe it won’t be as bad as I think.

We walk across the street to the pack hall where the craft fair is taking place. Music fills the air as we enter, and I feel eyes on us immediately. Callum is seemingly oblivious to the stares, which makes me even more aware of them. People murmur as we walk by, and some nudge each other, but no one says anything directly to us. Callum stops to talk to some of the guys I’ve seen at the house, his betas. They smile at Harper and give me a polite nod. To be honest, I’m grateful no one tries to have a conversation, because I feel as though I’m close to a panic attack.

Harper sees an interesting stall and takes off, so I follow her, leaving Callum to talk. Away from the safety of his proximity, the stares grow more obvious. I try to avoid making eye contact, but as Harper begins to point at some of the baked goods I promised to get her, I know it’s inevitable that I’m going to have to engage. I take my purse out and find some coins so that Harper can pay—she loves playing pretend shopping, so I know this will make her happy.

The woman behind the counter looks familiar, but I can’t remember her name. I smile politely and tell Harper to point to the ones she wants and say, "Please."

The woman is stony-faced as she glares at me, but thankfully, her face softens when she speaks to Harper. The seconds seem to stretch on forever as she bags the cookies, and she glances at me now and then. I’m sure she’s about to say something.

Suddenly, I hear my name being called and turn to see Sara and Charlie walking toward me. Sara doesn’t stop until she’s wrapped me in a hug, one that I’m so grateful for. I respond in kind, whispering, “Thank you.”

She gives me a final squeeze of solidarity before turning to Harper and asking to see what she’s bought. I can feel Charlie looking at me, so I turn and smile, hoping for a good response. He smiles and accepts a piece of cookie as Harper hands it to us.

“Thank you, Harper, that’s very kind,” he says softly to her, and she beams.

I thank the woman behind the counter, who simply nods. Her stony expression has returned, but she doesn’t say anything in front of Sara and Charlie, so I breathe a sigh of relief, my shoulders relaxing slightly as we step away from the counter. Unfortunately, I don’t miss the gossip that starts while we’re still in earshot, the whispers with other customers, and a few others pointing in our direction. I glance at Charlie and notice how uncomfortable he looks, but he doesn’t say anything; he just carries on talking to Harper about the cookies. She’s telling him about the ones we made and how she wants to be a baker when she grows up.

Sara, sensing my rising panic, tries to talk loud enough to drown out the whispers that follow us and begins to guide us back over to where Callum is still talking to Byron and a few others.

“The nerve, causing all this trouble and then showing up here,” someone mutters from a stall as we pass.

I assume they mean trouble with the rogues, but that’s like blaming Harper because bad people are looking for a child. I try to swallow the bile in my throat and keep walking, but the next comment stops me in my tracks.

“…a runt, just like her mother.” The insult is whispered but loud enough for most nearby to hear.

Before I can even think about the consequences, I spin around. “What did you say?” I ask, my voice unwavering. “What did you say about my daughter?”

The hall falls so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Everyone turns to look at me, and their expressions go from shocked to embarrassed.

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