Page 91 of Brutal Alpha Beast
What if Monroe is the one being affected, and I’m only feeling second-hand darkness as a reflection of hers?
That would make sense. That adds up to why hers seems so much stronger.
I have to go back.
“Monroe!”
I go to turn, but suddenly, there’s a thrashing knock to my head. It feels like I’ve been whacked.
I see Monroe’s face.
“Monroe,” I murmur quietly, before my vision goes black and I’m out cold.
Chapter 22 - Ellis
I decide to go to the coven to pick Danielle up. When I don’t scent her nearby after a long while, I decide that it’ll be a good idea to escort her back home. I know how bad she’s been feeling, and I want to treat her to something today. We could go out and get dinner, or watch a film at home—whatever she wants.
I want to make her feel good, but also not suffocated.
As I get nearer to the coven, her scent gets stronger. I’m relieved.
I trusted her this morning, but I can never be too sure; Danielle can be so secretive.
A couple of witches who I’ve gotten to know during our time being allied greet me at the entrance.
It’s good to feel welcomed here. It reminds me how far I’ve come.
Life is buzzing on as usual at the coven, although I can sense the tension in the air.
I want to ask them about the general sentiment among coven members and whether any progress has been made relating to the curse (unfortunately, not much development on my end), but then I spot Danielle.
“Good to see you both!” I call, before rushing to follow after her.
She’s walking around by herself, looking as though she’s in some sort of daze.
When she doesn’t respond after I say her name, I get worried.
I catch up to her, and as I touch her, she looks confused at first. For a split second, it is as though she doesn’t recognize who I am.
My instincts sharpen. “Are you okay? It’s me, Ellis.”
“Oh,” she says, smiling after—although something about it looks wrong. “Sorry, I’ve been feeling off.”
“I know,” I respond. “Are you good? Did coming here help?”
She looks around at the coven grounds, avoiding eye contact—her face still in a strange sort of daze.
Something is definitely still off.
“Yes,” she replies in a monotone, “it was good to see Monroe.”
“That’s good,” I say carefully. “If you’re done, do you want to get out of here? Maybe we can do something fun?”
“Yeah...”
I’m about to turn when she grabs my arm. “Wait,” she says. “Let’s go to my old place here first. You haven’t seen it, right? I don’t remember. But I’m enjoying the energy here—it’s soothing.”
Even the way she says ‘soothing’ sounds wrong. So artificial, as though she’s feeling the exact opposite, and I can’t understand why she’d lie. She knows that I support her.
