Page 27 of Brutal Alpha

“Julia,” he panted, “Julia collapsed by the orchard.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. How could she be so reckless? She had a concussion and three fractured ribs; she was supposed to be resting. I was meant to be watching over her. I should have known she would be reckless enough to try something like this. I should have been more vigilant and shouldn’t have let her drive me from her bedside.

“Where is she now?” I barked, but it was Leo, the Beta answered.

“Cody’s carrying her back.”

Leo nodded.

“Has someone gone for the witch?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s on her way.”

To my relief, Julia was conscious when she was carried over the threshold. I was so relieved, in fact, that it took me a couple of moments to recognize the Beta carrying her as the same guy she’d flirted with at the Solstice. Fortunately, even my wolf knew that now was not the moment, and I only held out my arms for her, giving him a gruff,

“Thanks.”

“What am I,” Julia grumbled, “a sack of groceries?”

The Beta huffed out a laugh, but I was already leaving him behind, whisking her up the stairs and back toward her room.

“You’re an idiot, that’s what you are,” I hissed as I placed her down on the bed. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” Her body was scorching hot, and I couldn’t tell if that was simply from having been outside in the sunshine or if she was running a fever. She slapped ineffectively at my hand as I placed it on her forehead to check.

“I was going for a walk,” she protested. “Is that a crime now?”

“You were nearly dead yesterday.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” she scowled. This woman had been put on earth by a capricious god who wanted nothing but to test my patience. I would not rise to it. I would not let her make me angry. I knew I’d been unfair to her that morning—she might be wrong about us being mates, but she deserved more of my respect. She really had saved both of our asses on Arbor.

“Julia,” I said, low and controlled, “you need to take better care of yourself.”

For a moment, she only blinked up at me, momentarily disarmed. When she spoke, though, her words were sharp enough to cut.

“Don’t worry, Cal won’t blame you for my stupid decisions. You can stop pretending to care.”

“I’m not pretending—” I started, but then we were no longer alone in the room.

It was always easy to tell a witch simply by the way she dressed, and this one was no exception. Shifters, by and large, favored economy and ease with our clothing: it needed to be easy to remove in a pinch, so things like scarves and jewelry weren’t popular among our people. Witches, by contrast, seemed to dress with the intention of bucking that trend.

The woman who bustled into Julia’s room wore a long-sleeved blouse in some gauzy fabric, draped over a plain camisole, her long skirt brushing the ground with every step. Her lightly greying hair was swept back beneath a patterned scarf, and she wore large earrings, several necklaces with different crystals hanging from them, and what seemed like a dozen bangles on each of her wrists. She smiled, and the lines at her eyes creased.

“Someone told me this was an emergency, but you’re clearly not dying,” she said. I really should remember her name, but everything had been a blur since we arrived on Argent.

“She tried to go for a walk and nearly passed out,” I told… Sylvia? No, that was wrong.

She kissed her teeth.

“Not very sensible, young lady.”

“It’s kind of stifling in here,” Julia said, shooting me a poisonous look that the witch (Sandra?) gracefully ignored.

“Usually I’m all for the freedom to roam,” she said, “but you’re going to have to stay in and take it easy for a few days—Julia, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Julia, can you follow my finger with this eye?” She tapped the cheekbone beneath Julia’s good eye before she brought her hand back, her pointer finger stretched toward the ceiling. Slowly, she moved her hand back and forth, watching Julia’s blue eye track its movement.

“Good,” she said after a few seconds. “Now, can you take a deep breath for me?”

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