Page 125 of Ruthless Alpha Beast
While Tara is human, she has a connection to us. I don’t know what it is, but it’s definitely there.
“You saved us,” I tell her. “Things don’t happen by coincidence.”
“Well, I didn’t do it alone,” she says.
“Of course you didn’t. That’s the way of the pack, you never have to be alone.”
She smiles, and it lingers soft and unguarded. That ache in my chest twists tighter to the point of pleasurable pain.
The laughter and chatter are blurred around us, I even forget about my hungry stomach and the plate of food resting on my knees.
I map out the glint in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks.
“I think the pack has, for the most part, accepted me now,” she whispers. “I’ve grown very fond of them, you know.”
From the look in her eyes, it’s clear that her words hold a double meaning.
And as if right on cue, one of my shifters raises his glass to propose a toast.
“To Tara!” He yells.
Around us, shifters and witches follow along, raising their glasses and yelling their cheers.
“To Tara, the most powerful human to ever live.”
Tara chuckles, leans back, and raises her glass too. I savor the way she looks so content—the weakened look in her eyes, the slight opening of her lips.
“To Tara,” I say.
She sips from her drink, and I lean in.
“You know it is customary for the Alpha to dance with his wife.”
“Oh no,” she shakes her head. “I’ve had enough movement for one night.”
The music picks up again, a fast rhythm with drums and strings. Wolves and witches are being pulled into dances, hands linked, skirts spinning, and boots stomping against the grassy ground.
Tara glances at the dancers and then back at me. “Don’t you even think about it.”
I laugh.
Honestly, I don’t have the energy to move my body, let alone dance, but if she wanted to, I’d do it.
“What happens now?” She asks. “Aside from the dancing. What about if Willow comes again? How can we prevent all the stress?”
I exhale slowly, leaning back in my chair.
That’s something I’ve been thinking about too. But right now, there’s nothing we can do. Even if I wanted to, I’ve learned that some things just appear when the time is right.
Like Tara.
“Leave that to me,” I tell her.
“But I don’t want to have to leave it to you, I want to help, and I think preventive measures-”
I rest one hand on her thigh, and she quietens.
“Trust me, Tara, you want to cherish these moments.”
