Page 42 of Caged Between the Beta & Alpha
“Oh, darling, you haven’t seen cruel,” he said. His voice was so dangerously calm and cold that it sent a shiver of fear through me.
His eyes darkened, and my stomach twisted. The burning dark navy shade of his eyes was something I had never seen before. I backed away, my heart thundering loudly.
He reached over suddenly, grabbing my shirt and yanking me roughly towards himself. In one swift moment, he ripped it right off of me and tossed it to the ground. Although not once did his gaze dip down as I crossed my arms over my chest, which was clad only in a black bra, I still felt humiliated. A surge of pain and hurt rushed through me, but he simply glared coldly into my eyes. Reaching over, he grabbed my chin, jerking my head upwards.
“Let me make this clear to you one final time… you are mine and only fucking mine.”
The Cottage
Liam
Iturned, leaving her standing there, looking fucking devastated. The anger that was burning through me was out of my control. No matter how much I tried to calm the storm within me, I couldn’t. I needed to get away before I did any damage.
I rushed down the stairs. The anger of my wolf was out of my hands now. My claws and teeth were already out, and I was just trying to make it to the fucking door. My feet hit the bottom step just as one of the omegas stepped out,
“A-Alpha, your…”
I snapped my gaze towards her, my heart thumping dangerously. Her eyes widened, dropping the Tupperware box she had been holding out to me and backing away slowly before scampering away. Smart move.
Ripping the door open and almost off the hinges, I rushed out, shifting and running into the woods. I needed a fucking break from everything. Deep down, I knew the jealousy and anger that was festering inside of me was only growing with each passing day. Returning home, I thought I’d be able to reign in the anger and hatred that had built inside of me, but now… I wasn’t able to. I was fucking losing control.
The dark thoughts that consumed my mind, the words that I spoke, and the way I reacted were all foreign to me, too. I felt like shutting off and unleashing my wrath upon everything around me, but I couldn’t. I was the Alpha, and it was my job to protect, not fucking destroy.
I don’t knowhow long I ran, but when the sun began to set, I headed back towards pack grounds. I was a lotcalmer and after my initial surge of anger, I felt like fucking crap for ripping her top off. I just… seeing it fucking pissed me off, not to mention she spent the night there. I needed to apologise to her.
There was so much fucking crap that was going on. If Dad, Mom, and Damon weren’t so fucking against it, I would have questioned everyone in this pack until I got to the bottom of it. It would make things so much fucking easier.
I stopped outside a small cottage that stood at the edge of the woods. Shifting back, I grabbed the key from beneath the step where I stored it and unlocked the door. It was the cottage that once belonged to someone very important to us, Grandma Amelia. In her will, she left this place and its contents to me, apart from the medicinal books that belonged to our grandfather’s brother, her mate. Those went to Kiara.
Stepping inside, I locked the door behind me and went over to the shelf, pulling off one of the pairs of joggers that I kept here. Since coming back, I had begun to clean it up. Somehow it was the only place I actually felt at ease. No matter how much time passed, or the fact that her scent had faded, this place still pulled me to it just like it did as a child. I loved to bring Kiara here, sneaking away from home. Sometimes she would suggest it, and I would happily accompany her. The smell of cinnamon hung faintly in the air, and, closing the curtains, I switched the light on.
I walked over to the sofa and dropped onto it, the springs creaking under my weight. This place had been kept just as it was when Grandma Amelia died. This was the place where she had breathed her last breath, casting one last miracle before she went. Something she kept hidden was that she was actually of witch heritage. Although she was more wolf, she still had the abilities of a witch, and with her last breath, she had used her powers to save Azura’s life.
Mom couldn’t bear to come here; the pain and memory of this place were too much for her. Dad had said he would come in to check that the pipes didn’t freeze over or anything in winters, but it had been empty since I had left. Looking around, I scanned the shelves of books and other bits and bobs. Grandma Amelia’s voice rang in my head like a distant song,
“Come on, Liam…. Now don’t be a silly oaf.... Sit down… I’ll put on some tea…. Boys! Can’t do one thing right…”
No, I can’t. I fucking can’t, and even when I try... I can’t accept this fucked up situation…Weren’t you the one who had the solution to everything? Weren’t you the one who knew what to do?I looked out at the room, almost as if I was hoping she’d give me an answer.
I was always the silent one. I never wanted to cause trouble because I knew Mom and Dad were worried about Kiara due to her injury and night blindness. I didn’t want to be a burden on them.
Standing up, I walked over to the shelf, remembering how she’d play games with us, read us stories… read her cards. I always felt there was more to her stories… to everything. Grandma Amelia always seemed to know stuff. She always held a mystery about her that we would never truly ever know the extent of, but that was just the type of person she was.
I took out a book, remembering her reading this very book to us on Halloween when we were ten. I smiled slightly, placed it back on the shelf, and walked along the rows slowly. I frowned, spotting a black box, I remember this. They were her cards.
I took the box down and, opening it, took out the deck of cards. Walking over to the small table, I tossedthe empty box onto it and turned the cards over, spreading them across the table. I remembered her reading these for Kia and me. No matter what cards I picked, there was one card that I always drew last, each of the three times she ever read them. After that, she refused to play this ‘game’ with us.
I moved the cards around, searching for that one card. Frowning, I realised it wasn’t there. That was odd. I picked up the box, but it was empty. It wasn’t like Grandma to misplace things. I stood up, staring at the shelf. It had to be here…
I began to search around everywhere, the strong urge to find it overcoming me. Soon I had begun to take every book off the shelf, shaking the pages, just in case it was in there. An hour passed and I was almost done with the entire bookshelf, but no sign of the damn card. Where the fuck was it?
Another few books, and I was on the last one, but the card was nowhere to be found.Did it maybe slip under?I placed another book down before looking at the shelf. It was large and made of solid oak. You could see that the bottom shelf was at least five inches off the ground, but there was no panel I could take off. Slowly I tried to move the shelf, cursing when I realised it was bolted to the wall.Fucking great.
Going over to the kitchen, I searched around until I found the toolbox Grandma Amy kept. Taking out what I needed, I returned to the shelf and began to undo the bolts that held it to the wall. Twenty minutes later, I was able to move it away from the wall. Nothing. Fuck, that was a waste of time!
I was about to turn away when my gaze fell on a slightly uneven floorboard that looked loose. Crouching down, I used the screwdriver to pry it up. Looking inside, my gaze instantly fell on an old, cracked, leather-bound book that lay inside. It was extremely old. What the heck was it? It held far too much dust as well. How long had it been in there? Picking it up, I blew away the layer of dust that had settled upon it, coughing as dust erupted around me. Moving away from the cloud, I wiped my arm over the book, trying to read the words on the cover. They were too faded to make out, even with my sharp eyes.
Sighing, I unwrapped the strap and flipped it open; an old manila envelope fell out. I picked it up and frowned when I recognised Grandma Amelia’s cursive writing, but what made my heart race was the words upon it:
