Page 24 of Brutal Alpha Bully

“Made from the ash.”

“Ash from daemonic fires?” she asks, a lilt to her voice telling me that she already sees how it might work. The cyclical nature of the thing, its aftermath being the thing to stop it.

“Yes.”

“How old were you when you started?”

“Fighting fires?”

“Fighting daemon fire.”

“Sixteen,” I say, then, almost in defense of my father, “I was a mature teenager.”

“I’m mature,” she returns, tilting her head at me. “Maybe I could come with you next time.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Well, first, because it’s dangerous. And second, because your mother—”

“Nora.”

Nora and I both jump at the sound of Seraphina’s voice from the stairwell, and I realize I was so invested in talking to Nora that I didn’t notice her getting out of bed and coming down the stairs.

She’s healing well, moving better than she did after that night. I’m still angry with her about that night. About the magic. And yet, when I turn and see her there, anger isn’t the first feeling that rises to the top of my chest.

Not meeting my eye, Seraphina repeats herself, mouth tight, “Nora, it’sbedtime.”

“Right, sorry,” Nora says. With a quick glance between her mother and me, she says, almost cheekily, “Good night, Xeran.”

Seraphina bristles almost visibly, and I can’t help it—I let out a little chuckle as I say, “Good night, Nora.”

Chapter 12 - Seraphina

The adrenaline pulsing through me is almost greater than it was the night I woke up to find my house on fire. Becausethiscan’t be happening. This is my greatest fear—Xeran finding out about Nora. I’ve been able to keep it a secret for this long, and I’m not going to let it all come out now.

He’s made it clear multiple times he’s only here to fix up his father’s house—deal with it. And he’s keeping Nora and me here for… some reason. A sense of obligation, maybe. Because his uncle and brothers are the ones trying to come after us.

“Maybe I didn’t communicate myself clearly enough,” I say, using magic to muffle my voice so hopefully Xeran won’t be able to hear it as I pull my daughter through the door to our room and fix her with a look. “You arenotto talk to him. You’re not to leave this room without me, actually.”

“But why?” Nora asks, turning and crossing her arms—a move that I’ve never seen from her before, but which feels like the start of a teenage phase I am not ready for.

“Because it might not be safe if we’re not together—”

“No, why can’t I talk to him?”

“Nora,” I breathe, blinking at her and shaking my head. “Are you forgetting the fact that he’s keeping us here against our will? We tried to escape, and—”

“And hesavedus! I don’t see any bars on the windows, and he doesn’t lock the door.”

I gasp. “Have you beenoutside?”

Nora looks away, petulant. I have never seen her like this before. “Now, who’s the one keeping me here against my will?”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“But you won’t tell mewhy. And you won’t tell me who he really is, you won’t tell me why you don’t like him. All of this is happening all at once, and it’s like—it’s like you just…” She mimes zipping her mouth shut.

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