Page 22 of Brutal Alpha Beast
Danielle steps forward to speak. She’s not looking at me, just eyeing the tree with concerned, moss-green eyes. She’s focused.
“Yes,” she says methodically. “The way it’ll work will be for us to cast some temporary spells. We’ll need a specificsolution, water, some oils, and some herbs. The solution, once spellbound, will act as a temporary sort of life force for the tree. It’ll keep it from the brink of death, but it will need to be applied, twice a day.”
I try not to be impressed by the way she assesses things so quickly. It’s a recurring theme, trying not to be impressed with Danielle.
“Perfect,” I say. Then I turn to my men. “Aaron, you work with Danielle to ensure that she gets the ingredients she needs. Then we’ll wait for them to work their magic, and split off into groups of three, a witch in each.”
I turn to Danielle. “You’ll all need to show us how to apply the solution correctly.”
“Yeah,” she says, as though my request is obvious. “Of course.”
We haven’t exactly spoken since that first night, and the tension between us isn’t exactly subtle.
As the day goes on, I oversee the witches and my men, watching as they let the witches explain things to them, reluctantly at first, but soon both sides warm up, and it’s almost as though everyone’s getting along.
Civil, at least.
Some of my guys, Aaron in particular, look impressed.
As they cast spells over a pot of the requested solution, and the substance is boiled and sparked, I noticed looks of genuine shock.
When it’s time for lunch, we all eat together outside, sandwiches and fruit provided by our pack.
“Here,” I say to Danielle as I hand her a sandwich, a peace offering, sort of.
She eyes me quickly before taking it. “Thanks,” she murmurs, and then looks off.
As I sit with my guys, I can’t help but flicker my gaze to her side.
She laughs, her face radiating a light glow as she chatters with her twin.
As an only child, I can’t imagine the feeling of the type of bond they have. But it’s obvious that they’re very close. That makes me happy for some reason.
Danielle rests her head on Monroe’s shoulder as she smiles, and I can’t pinpoint what it is that fills me with joy. It just does.
Perhaps it’s because Danielle’s smiling, or maybe because she looks so relaxed. The strange energy between Danielle and me is many things—none of them relaxed.
“This is going well, right?” One of my guys says to me, mid-bite.
“Yeah,” I shrug. “I think it is.”
“But it’s only a temporary solution. What are we going to do about the real problem?”
“Good question,” I sigh, taking a chunk of sandwich in my hand. I gaze at the wheat bread, the light pink ham, and thinly sliced white cheese. “I have no fucking idea.”
No idea about that, and no idea about why I can’t get this fascinating witch out of my mind.
***
Last time we met at Jasper’s—our friend and the Alpha of the other neighboring pack in our valley’s grounds, the time before that, it was mine—this evening, it’s Sawyer’s turn to host. Honestly, I’m glad to get out of my pack. While the meeting with the witches went well, all of it was intense. Keeping the peace, worrying that my guys won’t try shit, and honestly making sure the witches don’t try anything as well. What my pack mates seem to have forgotten is that I’m just as suspicious as they are.
But most of all, the intensity of being around Danielle is getting to me. Maybe it’s a scent thing? To my wolf, she smells good. Really good. Not your typical attractive female, sweet, but a send-your-wolf-to-the-brink-of-insanity type good.
At least in Sawyer’s pack, the scent isn’t there. All I smell is regular shifter wolves.
“Why do we still meet up here if we don’t have anything serious to say?” Jasper asks absentmindedly as he picks a can from the cooler.
Sawyer throws me one, and Greg, our other friend—Lacey’s brother, is already half way through his. I’ve arrived a little late given all I had to administer this morning and afternoon.
