Page 9 of Brutal Alpha Beast
“Do you think you could ever trust one with your life if they hadn’t yet proven they’d save you from death?”
I asked Lacey if anything was going on with our coven’s alliance with Sawyer, to which she replied that she couldn't think of anything. Given that Sawyer is her husband, surely, she’d know.
When a couple of the girls told me that a few weeks back, they saw that shifter with copper hair and burgundy eyesstanding at the entrance of our village, talking to Penelope, my stomach dropped.
Oh,thatshifter.
Ten years ago, which honestly feels like a lifetime ago now, I remember running away from him—yes, the whole pack, but mainlyhim,for he was the one keeping me there in the first place.
With my bags packed, accompanied by Monroe, we set our sights on human territory.
We would have found refuge with the humans had we not bumped into a small coven. The coven I’ve been living in for the past ten years.
They welcomed us with open arms, and while it was still a little close to our old home, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. They felt right, like family. I finally felt like I could be part of a community that would accept Monroe and me for who we were.
We haven’t looked back since.
“Danielle,” Monroe calls from the other room.
“Yes,” I respond absentmindedly. I’m focused on finding a spell that can be used to safeguard the nature in our valley. We have plenty of healing spells in our arsenal, which we use all the time, but one morning during meditation, the thought occurred to me: why can't we use something that’s preventive instead? A shield of some kind?
I’m buried in a large magic book, flicking rapidly through the pages while sitting at our kitchen table. I like being busy.
I like working with Sawyer’s pack to find ways to protect our valley from the threat of the curse. While I’m busy, I don’t think about the past; I don’t think about things like why Penelope is acting so strange.
Monroe calls me again, and this time, I’m too engrossed in deciphering the meaning of an ancient spell to respond.
“Danielle,” she says. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to focus,” I say.
“Well, Penelope wants us to go to the meeting spot, like, now.”
I pause, a shaky feeling settling in my chest. If Penelope wants us to go to the meeting spot, then that means there’s someone she wants us to observe.
“Are you sure that includes us?” I ask her.
“Yep,” she nods. “She said she wants everyone there.”
As soon as Monroe and I approach the clearing, I feel his presence seeping into my bones.
When I decided to leave the pack and come to the coven, Penelope was kind enough to cast a memory spell that made Ellis and the rest of the pack forget that we ever existed, and made me forget about them.
Spells like this are a big deal. Not only do they take a lot of effort to perform, but they’re serious—they’re only to be used if absolutely necessary.
When she asked me why, I told her the truth, or part of it at least. I told her that the pack never accepted me, that they bullied me, and I could never tell them who Monroe and I truly were, in fear that we would be persecuted or attacked.
I told her that if I’m going to have to live close to them, I want them to forget about me, and I forget about them, too.
When she pressed me on this, I told her it could be dangerous for us and for the coven as a whole. I told her it’s the only way I can move on.
I missed out the part about Ellis. It felt too shameful, too fresh.
While the memory spell worked on me for a little while, eventually all the memories came pouring back. Albeit slightly less intense, but still there.
I’ve always wondered whether the reason it didn’t work had something to do with the intense feelings I had for Ellis. This was a thought I didn’t share with anyone else.
When I told her I was remembering things, Penelope said that sometimes spells can have loopholes that are hard to figure out. So that was that—at least we were able to confirm that the spell was still working on their side.
