Page 67 of Forced Alpha Bride
I let out a deep sigh, feeling tingles run through my muscles as I slowly relax. Winnie’s breathing is settling down beside me, and I hope she’s finally drifting off to sleep.
And in the morning, if she’s not feeling better, we can at least have a decent conversation about what’s bothering her.
My mind tries to slip back to the night before, under the pretense of looking for clues as to why she’s now acting so distant. As soon as the graphic sexual images begin to flashthrough my mind, I have to shut down that line of thinking and force myself to worry about something else.
The attack, the scouts—worry about that.
With a little guilt, I admit that I should be giving this a lot more thought. I am extremely distressed about the damage to Gryphon Eyrie. If Valentine Creek really is responsible, they have to pay.
Maybe the council is right. They might be a whole pack of murderers and thieves, constantly taking advantage of others. I don’t know the truth. I only have Uncle Leroy’s word.
I loved my uncle, and after my mother died, he was all I had. But now that I’m an adult, his stories suddenly appear extremely one-sided.
Of course, they were—he came from the Creek. It’s true he never outright condemned either side, but he did talk heavily about the imbalance between the two sides and that innocents were suffering in the Creek.
I think about ordering an outright attack and what that might involve. It would definitely protect the Eyrie and remove the threat for good if we conquered them. The problem is, I can’t shake the feeling that innocents would get hurt. I won’t allow that to happen.
Even if they are all honorless dogs, I couldn’t bear to see kids get hurt. And I don’t think our warriors would give a damn—they’d just slaughter everyone in sight.
I also realize that Uncle Leroy was pretty clear to me on how impossible it is to bring peace to the packs. It was what my father planned, and he died for it.
Is the alpha who killed him still in charge? What do I do if I face him? I’m expected to kill him, both as a rival leader andthe son of a wolf he killed. His position belongs to me on both fronts. By ancient law, Valentine Creek is rightfully mine.
Wrestling with my thoughts exhausts me, and I manage to slip into a light sleep. I wake with first light, though, and get up right away so I can solve all these matters as quickly as possible. And hopefully, save my marriage.
As I leave the room, I unlock Winnie’s chains from the bedpost. Her wrists are still cuffed together, but she’ll be able to get up and move around.
I’ll hear her when she gets up, and she can’t get far with her hands together. I really hope we can work this out.
In the kitchen, I start mixing up pancake batter, putting my full focus on stirring the eggs and milk in a bowl as I slowly add the flour. Out in the cabin, we had to make almost everything from scratch, and it wasn’t like Uncle Leroy had a cookbook.
It wouldn’t have mattered if he did. You can’t use a standard recipe when every egg you collect from your birds is a different size.
The process is meditative, soothing my anxiety and clearing my thoughts. I’m so involved with the task, I almost jump out of my skin when someone bangs on the back door.
I hurry to open it, finding Austin on my step.
“You’re in early,” I say, gesturing for him to come in. “Want some coffee?”
“Fuck, yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had a hell of a night.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Oh, no fighting,” he says, shaking his head. “But I did a full recon, and there’s no sign that Valentine Creek has left theirboundary. I ran the whole way back to report to you as soon as I could.”
“What about the others?” I ask, putting a cup of coffee in front of him. “The council had scouts out, too.”
Austin shakes his head. “They went in separate directions from us. I tried to coordinate with them, but they wouldn’t listen to us.”
I focus intently on making a perfect circle of batter, letting my mind ruminate on that while my senses are distracted.
“That’s not good,” I finally say.
“Tell me about it. I don’t know where they went or what they did, but they weren’t with us.”
“This is bad,” I sigh, flipping the golden pancake onto a plate. “I really don’t know what to do here. The council is accusing me of bias. I could be fucked.”
Austin shrugs. “They have every right to that assumption—you’re from there.”
