Page 32 of Brutal Alpha

It wasn’t until we were about three-quarters of the way across that I noticed Julia flagging. Her breathing was loud and labored, her steps heavy, and I thought she looked paler than usual, her usually plump pink lips drawn into a tight white line.

“You okay?” I whispered. She nodded, but only a few moments later, she tilted against the side of the bridge, sliding down the low wall until she was sitting on the road, her expression pained and tense. I had dropped to my knees before I consciously thought to do so.

“Julia, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m just tired. I didn’t know that magic would take so much out of me, doing it for this long. I can keep going. I just need a minute.”

She clearly needed more than a minute. We’d been travelling in shadow for close to two hours, and we were still ahead of schedule, just. We could make up the time once she was rested. If we tried to keep going with her in this state, we’d never make it in time.

“Take a few minutes,” I told her. “You should have said something earlier. If we stay down here, you can let the shadow go for a little bit, yeah?”

She scowled but nodded.

“I guess, yeah.”

“Then let it go.”

With a great sigh of relief, Julia released the shadows cloaking us. They retreated slowly back to their natural positions, and I suddenly realized why she must be so tired. She hadn’t merely conjured shadows around us and brought them along for the ride across the bridge; as we moved, she let go of one shadow and took hold of a new one, like climbing a tree. Only once she had grasped a new branch could she release the one she had been holding. Julia was going to need more than a rest if she was going to make it to Ensign.

“Here, let’s see what Grandma Leo packed for us,” I said, setting the backpack down and undoing the drawstrings to reveal a treasure trove of snacks. I passed her a sandwich of thick-cut bread, stuffed with beef and cheese and pickles. “Eat all of that, please.”

“Yes, Mom,” she said, rolling her eyes as she took the paper-wrapped sandwich. I didn’t miss the little hum ofsatisfaction she gave at the first bite, and my wolf preened—we were providing for her—as I sat down beside her, unwrapping a sandwich of my own. Even the food on Argent was fancier: I’d never really had time for frivolous things like relish and pickles when bread and meat would suffice, but I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy the slight tang they added.

We weren’t quite relaxed as we ate—both of us still on edge, ready to jump back up at any sign of movement or any sudden sound—but it took a little of the tension out of my muscles, and when we were done with sandwiches, I found myself digging in the bag again, emerging a moment later with the cardboard box I’d been looking for. Inside were two slightly squashed but still beautiful strawberry cupcakes. I handed one to Julia, shoving the other into my mouth and savoring the burst of creamy-sweet flavor on my tongue.

It was gone too soon, but that was the point of indulgence, I supposed. It wasn’t supposed to last long. When I glanced over at Julia, she had frosting on her upper lip, staring down at her half-eaten cupcake like it was more magic than she would ever be, and it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. How was this the same girl who could shroud a mile of road in darkness?

I averted my eyes when she glanced my way, but not fast enough.

“What?” she asked, her guard creeping back up.

“Nothing,” I assured her, but I should have known she wouldn’t let me get away with that.

“Nothing?”

I could hardly tell her I was thinking she looked cute with frosting on her lip, so I said something else true instead.

“I was just thinking that less than a week ago, you were struggling to move a finger’s worth of shadow, and now you’re doing… this. It’s pretty incredible.”

Julia blinked at me, clearly taken aback.

“Oh,” she said. Rather than preening with well-earned pride, she seemed to shrink in on herself, uncomfortable with the praise. She met all my insults and criticism with sharp wit and fire, yet a simple compliment had unmoored her. Was she really so unused to kind words from me?

The simple answer was yes. In all the years we’d been in each other’s orbit, I had never once told her she was brave, clever, or beautiful. Julia was all of those things and more; I just never imagined she’d want to hear that from me. Positive or negative, Julia had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t care for my opinion.

That hadn’t always been the case, though. I remembered her confession, hazy and slurred but undeniably honest, as I held her in my arms on a very different bridge. At one point, Julia had wanted my praise, my attention, but I’d been such an unrelenting asshole to her that she’d eventually given up on seeking it, given up on me.

I should have been relieved by that. If she had given up on me once, she could do so again, abandoning this whole mates theory; yet, the thought of her pushing me away again sent an unpleasant pang through my chest.

“Julia—” I started, unsure how I was even going to continue. How did one make up for over a decade of mistreatment? She was looking at me, expectant, and I could think of nothing to say to her but,

“You know you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, right?”

This time, she frowned. At least it was a more familiar expression.

“Um. No,” she said. Then, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just—”

---