Page 10 of Alpha’s Wife

“It’s keeping your pack safe and alive, and thriving,” he fires back, and I see a little of the fire he likes to pretend he doesn’t have. “I’ve watched you move the line for years. First, it was raids to build the settlement. Now, it’s raids to destabilize them. Next, it will be taking the island. How far do you go before you become someone you don’t recognize? It isn’t a weakness to be satisfied with what we’ve built.”

“Yes, it is,” I reply, not even trying to hide the edge to my voice. “You’d let them keep it all and call it a victory. You’d rather read about a great battle than win one.”

The barb lands, and I’m not proud of it, but I don’t take it back, either.

His jaw is tense, and he stares at me for a moment; there’s no anger in his expression, which begins to feel worse. I think I’d rather see the fire again. That I’d know what to do with. “One day you’ll get a hold of the thing you’re chasing, and you’ll realize it’s not enough,” he says quietly. “Go to bed, Ronan, you always pick fights when you’re tired.”

He walks off, and I let him. Standing on the dock, I listen to the creak of the boats behind me, and my wolf pulls and pulls and pulls me toward the hill. I probably should go to bed; Ryder’s right about that much.

Instead, I listen to my wolf and find myself on the path out toward the outskirts of the town. I tell myself this is strategy, a seduction that needs tending to if my plan is going to come off. I see that her lights are still on, and I palm the key in my pocket that will disable the wards.

Stopping at the bottom of the steps, I pause and realize that I’m not actually sure what I’m doing here.

I knock anyway.

Chapter 5 - Selene

It’s late, but I can’t sleep, so I’m three chapters into a book that I’m not really reading when someone knocks.

It always amuses me when they knock, as though the door isn’t locked and I don’t even have the key to let them in. As if this isn’t a prison. I stand, because that’s what you do when someone knocks, but I don’t bother going to the door; I just wait.

The door opens, and it’s him.

Of course it’s him, who else would it be? Especially at this hour. But this feels new; this isn’t about chess.

The fact that he looks wrecked is my first thought. He doesn’t look bad…he still looks good, which I immediately resent. He’s been at sea, I can tell. He smells of the ocean, his face is flushed, his hair is windswept, and his jacket is damp. He’s been somewhere, been doing something, and he came straight here in the early hours of the morning instead of going to bed.

I hesitate slightly, because the fact that he’s here in the middle of the night feels like a loaded detail. A man with somewhere else he can be, presumably, a warm bed, and surely needing rest after whatever he’s been up to. Is this all part of a strategy? Though something weary in his eyes tells me no, it’s not. And that feels a lot more dangerous.

“It’s the middle of the night,” I say, aware I’m wearing less than normal, just a thin dress. But then, I wasn’t exactly expecting company.

He notices; I know he does. “I saw your light. I don’t think you can sleep, either.”

I shrug. “I’m a witch with insomnia and a vivid sense of grievance. It’s a powerful combination.”

He doesn’t reply, just steps inside and shuts the door behind him. The cabin immediately feels warmer and smaller, as usual. He doesn’t sit, just walks to stand near the fire, the cold sea air still rolling off him. He turns to look at me and seems to pause, his tiredness written all over him.

I need to ask him now, while he’s like this.

“Where were you?” I ask, keeping it light.

“Working,” he replies, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the hook near the fire to dry.

“Doing what?” I try. “It’s a bit late for an alpha to be working.”

“Selene.” It’s the first time he’s used my name, I think, and it makes my stomach clench. “You don’t care what I’ve been doing tonight. Ask me what you really want to ask me.”

I’m not sure if he’s being serious or if this is just another one of his games, but I’ve been waiting for my chance, so I need to take it.

“What are you actually planning to do with my power?” I ask. “You want my bond magic for something.”

He looks at me, and the fire crackles as I brace for the deflection. A clever non-answer, followed by a maddeningly attractive smile, and yet more confusion and waiting. If I wait much longer, I may implode. But the smile doesn’t come, and I realize he might actually be ready to talk.

“You know I want you to bond with me,” he says, smoothly. “We both know how bond magic works, how it’s activated. That power will make my wolf strong enough to take on three packs at once. Take what is rightfully mine.”

For a moment, I can’t speak. Of course, I know how bond magic works and what an alpha would expect, but for him to just say it suddenly feels more dangerous. My dress suddenly feels too flimsy, the cabin too small, the fire too hot. I have to remind myself that if he knows about bond magic, he also knows that forcing me would invalidate it. He can’t force me to raise his army.

I think about the island that I’ve never even visited. There will be covens there, full of kind women like the ones who raised me, and families who will wake up one morning to an army on their shore if I give in to this handsome man. I think about the little children in the school here, knowing there will be children there, too, just on the wrong side of it. My magic is meant to steady bonds. Hold things together. But he wants to use that power to tear things apart.