Chapter 9 - Rissa

I feel myself stirring awake after what feels like a lifetime of deep sleep without a single dream to disturb me.

How was I going to dream after what happened last night? My dream became a reality instantly, and now I’m left with the tingling between my thighs from an explosive orgasm, along with the heaviness of guilt and regret that hangs over me as soon as I open my eyes.

Plagued by my logical mind that keeps reiterating that I’m supposed to hate Alpha Brooks, I can’t ignore that things shifted last night for me.

I may not have mated the man, but I’d become so vulnerable as to let him make me come with only his hands and his mouth, and I have no idea what the consequences will be.

I’d been so adamant not to mate with him, but allowing him to quell the hunger of my rabid heat surely counts for something. He’d seen me naked, exposed, vulnerable to his ministrations.

Yet, none of that changes the past or wipes it from existence.

Last night was a grave mistake on my part. I’ll have to do everything in my power to fight off my heat so that a repeat of last night doesn’t happen.

I can’t wake up like this, in the prison of his arms, my mind arrested by the qualms of a past that cannot be erased.

He bullied me, battered me with his words, treated me like dirt under his boot, and kicked me to the side.

I’d sat on those sidelines for years and accepted my fate as the pack’s outcast while I worked hard to heal anyone who ever needed it without expecting anything in return.

This fate, constructed by the Council, is a misinterpretation, and I cannot accept it. Neither can I accept my destiny as a witch like Aurora and Yvonne, even if it’s been contrived by the Moon Goddess.

Surely, free will exists, even for the werewolf shifter race. There’s a part of us that remains human, humane enough to make our own choices—just like the alpha chose to bully me.

I can choose to disagree with this path.

Looking down at Brooks’s arm as it rests over my midriff, I feel the weight of his muscles pressing into my flesh, and wonder how long we’ve been sleeping. Since it feels like a long time, I turn my eyes to the curtain and notice the fiery orange hues seeping through the window.

The whole day must have flown by without us noticing, I realize with a sharp gasp that instantly snaps Brooks’s eyes open.

The loss of his warmth when he springs out of bed leaves me momentarily stunned, but I don’t dwell on it too much when relief sets in. At least I didn’t have to face the awkwardness of him waking up gently beside me while I lay in his arms.

But my relief is short-lived when Brooks hastily pulls the curtain aside and grunts, with a string of curses ringing out.

“Shit! We overslept!” He spins around and rounds the bed, then pulls open the closet doors. He grabs a few items from the closet and throws them at me. “Quick. Get dressed,” he instructs. “We need to leave now. The sun is already setting.”

I quickly pull on the T-shirt and sweatpants he’d given me, taking care not to let my eyes wander over him. I can’t let what happened last night leave such a mark on me, even if I’d fallen into the deepest sleep in his arms.

I don’t want to think about that right now. All I know is that following the alpha’s instructions will keep me safe long enough to find another way to escape him.

Brooks is already at the door before I can get my shoes on, waiting with an impatient tapping of his foot until I finally follow him outside.

Now that the faint traces of the sun illuminate the forest, leaking light between the canopies of trees, I’m able to make out our whereabouts.

We’re not far from the bridge that crosses the Cook Inlet toward Girdwood, but we still have a distance to go, and it’s a journey I dread because I have to do it alongside my bully, who’d also cured my heat last night.

Luckily for me, Brooks doesn’t breathe a word about what happened, instead remaining focused on getting us away from Hope, as far as possible from the usual route the demon takes.

Avoiding the strategic points where the treacherous spirit is known to lurk, Brooks leads me toward the bridge and stops to turn to me.

He glances at the sky and mumbles under his breath because the sun is already lost to the west of the woods.

“I’m gonna shift and carry you back to Girdwood,” he informs me as his eyes flicker to mine. I could be mistaken, but there’s a sharp glint of worry that flashes through his silver-gray eyes.

Perhaps it’s because we’re losing sunlight, and that means we’re not out of danger yet. We need to cross back into Snehvolk territory, where the perimeter has been bound by Aurora’s spells to keep the demon out.

Since she’d been training her mystical gifts, she’d developed more powers and the ability to cast protection spells all around the village and around the huts that are built in the woods for travelers. But we’re out in the open now, and that means we’re vulnerable.

Though I need to escape Brooks, the last thing I want is to face the demon again. The frightening creature left a scar on my memory, and if going home to Girdwood means I get to plot a proper escape plan, then so be it.

I nod, conceding, and Brooks shifts into the majestic form of his jetted wolf, shiny and glorious like the knight he is as the sub-Alpha of Snehvolk.

Stunned that I’m sparing a moment to appreciate the glorious beast, it takes him turning his furry head toward me and huffing through his nostrils to prompt me into action.

As I hop onto his back, I’m frowning and shaking my head as if to snap out of the momentary daze, wondering why on Earth I’d feel awestruck about his shift when I’ve witnessed it many times before.

I thread my fingers through the silky tresses of his black fur, feeling a flicker of electric awareness pulsing through my fingertips.

Woah…

This must be a product of last night, and my body remains aware of the things he’d done to me with just his mouth and his hands. It must be a natural response stemming from my inner wolf, and it means absolutely nothing.

I mean, how could I possibly become ignited by the werewolf who’d bullied me in the past? He’s the sub-alpha who once made me feel so small that I curled up inside myself, only becoming jolly and cheerful once I found my purpose in life.

A purpose that’s been destroyed ever since I discovered that I’m a witch.

Perhaps it’s those mystical gifts that heighten my intuition, prickling the fine hairs on the back of my neck with an alert that feels similar to the way I felt when the demon attacked us yesterday.

My frown deepens with confusion because the sun hasn’t fully set yet, and there’s no way the demon could be out here at this time.

Out of nowhere, I’m flying through the air, knocked off by Brooks in a matter of seconds, just as he was about to step onto the bridge. My screams are met with a series of shrill cries and wheezes from the alpha as a dark cloud descends upon the area and covers us in gray mist.

I land in a disheveled pile down the bridge, rolling to an abrupt halt against a wooden pole, only to witness Brooks being tossed in the air by the apparition of black curls of dreadful smoke.

His limbs flail about as he tries to grab onto something, but the spirit of the demon doesn’t allow for physical contact and has enough power to send him forcefully crashing against the bridge.

Brooks snaps his beady eyes at me before flicking them to the demon just as it morphs into its dog-like form.

The snapping of its teeth is audible even from where I’d been ruthlessly flung meters away.

The demon dog leaps at Brooks, flashing between its ghastly spirit form and the form of its physical being as it attacks Brooks.

Trembling with fear, I scramble and hide behind the pole, fear keeping me bound in place as I watch the fight between them unfold. The last time this happened, my powers sprang out from deep within as if to confirm Yvonne’s prophecy, even if I wasn’t fully prepared.

Now that I’m aware of my powers, I keep them sealed away, locked behind metal bars from the construct of my logical mind that refuses to acknowledge what I am.

But when Brooks squeals and cries out from the pain inflicted by the demon as it sweeps him off his paws and smashes him into a tree, I flinch as if I’ve been struck, and a sliver of magic ignites in my palms.

I look down, then, at my palms, and see how bright my veins have become. Pulsing with emerald jets of light, I can feel the power radiating deep inside me, but fear makes me curl my hands inwards, refusing to use my magic.

Why am I so hesitant? Why am I reluctant to let these powers out?

Could it be that utilizing my magic would mean dropping my walls all the way down, and allowing myself to feel something other than hatred for the alpha?

I gasp as I lift my eyes, only to see Alpha Brooks receiving another torrent of blows from the demon.

There’s nothing he can do to impair the treacherous spirit, and he’s open to every series of attacks the demon deals him.

The demon dog is barking torturously as Brooks comes crashing back down, the sound of his bones cracking ripping through the air as a puff of dust gusts out around him.

When the dust settles, it opens up to the view of his large wolf body in a heap on the ground as he lies on one side, a front arm stretched out ahead and pointed in my direction.

My heart skips a beat the moment our eyes meet, and the disgruntled, remorseful pools of silver become veiled by his furry eyelids just as a heavy sigh escapes his muzzle. He doesn’t move, doesn’t attempt to fight the demon again. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing, and horror washes over me.

Is he…is he dead?

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