Page 46 of Brutal Alpha Beast
She raises her eyebrow. “Exactly.”
Given that we’re trying to stop a curse created by a witch, I figure I probably should know how it works, at least a little. But after years of rejecting anything remotely magical, my reluctance is still there. No matter how cute Danielle is.
“Fair point,” I say, sitting down beside her.
We have a library, but unless for school work, the pack doesn't use it much. Go figure that reading through ancient texts isn’t exactly high on a werewolf’s list.
We get too antsy.
Antsy like how I am now beside her, drowning in her sweet scent.
“All right,” I say, leaning closer. “Hit me with the best theory you’ve got.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “You seriously want to help?”
“No one said anything aboutwant. But I hate seeing you hauled up in this old library, figuring this out alone. So hit me.”
I’m conscious that we’re so close, our knees are practically touching, and yet neither of us moves away.
She rests her chin on her palms; her whole body is angled toward me. “Okay,” she says. “So, what if the vines represent a bond, like between the wolves and witches? What if coming together somehow leads to fire and chaos?”
I squint a little as I digest her words. Then I smile.
She nudges my chest with her hand. “What? Are you making fun of me? You told me to hit you with what I got.”
I shrug. “You definitely hit me.”
She cranes her neck. “Oh, come on. Is it that crazy? Perhaps it’s our union that has sparked this fire, which in turn will bring chaos. Maybe Willow is drawing on that.”
She pauses.
“Why are you laughing?”
I can’t help it. Danielle may be a badass witch, but sometimes, she doesn’t know how funny she can be.
“So you’re basically saying that our coming together has sparked the next curse, and that we should stay apart, otherwise we’re all going to die? That’s some pretty paranoid, self-involved shit, even coming from a witch.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s just a theory. What else has changed as of late?”
“The forest has been decaying for a while,” I counter.
“True,” she concedes. “But there weren’t any shadow monsters. Those things came when we were together... arguing, of course.”
“So we should stop arguing,” I say.
She shakes her head, pushes her chair back, and stands up. “I’m going to get another book.”
I watch as her hips sway, fixated on the gentle slope of her back and her exposed neck. She’s walking with purpose, as though she’s frustrated, or mad—it’s hard not to want to rile her up.
She returns with another large book. This one is based on werewolf folklore, and she slams it down on the table. Dust sprays from all sides, making me cough.
“Sorry,” she says. “But damn, you guys need to read more.”
I lean back in my chair, watching as she frowns, pretending to read, but I know I’m throwing her off.
“Wanna know what I think?” I ask her.
She inhales deeply. “Sure.”
