Page 22 of Brutal Alpha

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, and her frown was so familiar that I could have wept with relief.

“Disappointing, I know,” I said. Scanning her body, she had a few shallow cuts and bruises, but nothing obviously worrying other than the wound on her head. “You just need to put up with me until we’re over the bridge onto Argent, okay? You’re got to stay awake.”

There was no way she didn’t have a concussion—her eyes were barely focused—and if I knew one thing, it was that you didn’t let someone with a concussion lose consciousness.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Julia snapped, contrary to the last. It was going to be a whole different battle to get her across the bridge, but I was going to win that one, too.

“Okay,” I said gently, hoping she was just woozy enough for this ploy to work. “Okay, have a little nap. You must be tired.”

“Fuck off,” she replied immediately. “I’m not tired.”

I didn’t know whether I should be grateful that I got exactly the response I needed, or worried that she was so out of it she didn’t even remember the past thirty seconds.

“I’m going to pick you up now, alright?” I told her. I didn’t want to move her, but it was the only option. We had to get across the bridge. Predictably, she tried to fight me on it.

“I can get up,” she insisted. This time, I wasn’t going to humor her.

“You absolutely cannot,” I said. “Here we go.”

Hooking one arm under her back and another beneath her knees, I lifted her up against my chest. To my surprise, she snuggled up against me, smearing blood over my skin.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled, soft and sleepy. It made something flutter inside me, but there was no time for that. She couldn’t go to sleep.

“Hey, hey, what about that escape we pulled off in the cave, huh?” I said, louder than I would have liked to, as I picked my way around the dead Arbor hunters toward the bridge. “You were amazing.”

“I was?” she asked, groggy and confused.

“You had the whole cave in darkness, remember?” I prompted. Did she not remember the cave, either? Mercifully, she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Wouldn’t have had to do that if you weren’t such a bonehead. We were nearly home free.”

“He shouldn’t have touched you,” I grumbled. I knew I should have held it together, but even the memory of his hand coming down on her ass, the lascivious way he smiled as he hit her, had my wolf ready for fresh blood.

“Stupid,” Julia chided me, and there was no way to defend myself. If I hadn’t given us away, we’d never have had to fight our way onto the bridge. She would never have gotten hurt.

“Stupid,” I agreed, and she hummed, pleased. I could feel her trying to snuggle down to sleep again, and I squeezed her thigh as hard as I could. The resulting glare was far less piercing than usual, but it was something, at least.

“Remember when you bet me that I couldn’t climb the tree in the Lapine square faster than you?” I asked, figuring that the memory of her past victory would keep her alert. To my dismay, her reply was muted.

“Mmm. You said it wouldn’t be fair to take the bet. Arrogant.” At least she was still insulting me, I supposed.

“You had to rope Caleb in to convince me,” I prompted, and Julia huffed out a half-hearted little laugh.

“It was hard, too,” she said. “He thinks you’re always right. Good thing he has me to set him straight.”

“You tore up that thing like a little squirrel. Left me in the dust.” When she didn’t respond, I asked, “How old were we?”

“I was thirteen. You were eighteen,” Julia told me. That sounded about right. Only a year into being Alpha and barely a grown man, I’d been very conscious of anything that might be seen as “childish”. Climbing trees had definitely been off the list of acceptable activities, but Julia had always made me stupid.

“I was impressed… and a little embarrassed,” I admitted, and Julia blinked up at me, eyes wide with surprise.

“Really? I thought you hated me for that. I was—I was so sad.”

“Sad?” I echoed. That couldn’t have been what she meant: Julia didn’t care what anyone thought of her, least of all me.

“Had a stupid, stupid crush on you,” she confessed. Her words were slightly slurred, and I knew she would never have said any of this under normal circumstances. Listening felt wrong, but there was little else I could do. “Thirteen-year-old me would be, like, so excited that we’re married.”

My wolf growled, low and pleased; I should have changed the subject, should have dropped it and forgotten about it, but instead I asked,

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