Page 1 of Cruel Alpha: Season Two
1
A Life for a Life
Caspian
Her hand rests in mine.
Limp and lacking any sign of life.
The only indication that she’s still in there, still fighting, is her warmth.
My fingers tighten around hers, and I’m faced with facts I hadn’t felt the need to address before now, emotion that seemed insignificant. But as my heart thunders and uncertainty looms, I feel it all.
Everything.
“You asked if there was anything you could do…”
Standing at Annalise’s bedside, I peer up to meet Jezebel’s gaze. She doesn’t lift her eyes from her task of wringing out a cloth drenched in tepid water over a bowl. In fact, she doesn’t even part her lips to speak again until she’s folded the cloth and placed it across Annalise’s forehead.
“There might be a way, but?—”
“Do it. Whatever you need, whatever the cost, do it.”
I expect Jezebel to leap to her feet, springing into action, but instead she just sits, staring gravely in my direction.
“You didn’t let me finish,” she says. “The ritual I’m considering would require a great deal of strength. The kind of strength only an alpha possesses, but your health?—”
“Do it,” I urge, my eyes slamming shut before she can finish.
As the one person with full knowledge of my medical challenges, I trust that Jezebel’s not wrong about this. Tapping into my strength could be a great risk, but I’ve come to realize something.
Something essential.
Annalise is vitally important to me, to the future I envision for myself, and… I need her here.
A part of our clan.
A part of my home.
A part of my life.
My jaw stiffens. As a man who prides himself in being strategically disconnected when it pertains to matters of the heart, the urgency to save Annalise is stifling.
“Where do we start?” I ask, and Jezebel’s gaze settles on me. The look is stern and contrary, but when I don’t back down, she huffs the first of her instructions.
“I’ll need you both completely undressed,” she says. “Look after her while I go retrieve a few items from the apothecary.”
Nodding, I calculate how long I imagine it should take her to get there and back—down two levels to the basement, then across to the East wing where she’s occupied space in that portion of the estate for many years. As a friend of the High Chamber,andmy family for more than a century, she’s been provided ample living space. But she also has an expansive workspace and storage area for ingredients, spell books, and other odds and ends I don’t trouble myself to memorize. At the end of the day, Jezebel is a powerful witch I’ve learned not to question. She’s skilled, and if anyone can save Annalise, it’s her.
As Jezebel’s steps fade, I begin the task of removing Annalise’s clothing—torn, dampened with blood, and singed from the fire that ignited after the crash. I force my thoughts to focus, being careful with her. More careful than I’ve been with anything or anyone in my entire life, unsure of what movements would do her fragile body more harm. I look her over, noting that most of her external wounds have healed, but I imagine the unspeakable damage to her internal organs. Damage so severe that she has yet to awaken as a warm fire crackles beside us.
Rage seeps into my bones, but being angry right now isn’t helpful, therefore it isn’t allowed to take up headspace. Right now, my focus needs to be on fixing her, bringing her back to me.
I finish, and her clothes lie in a heap on the floor before I begin removing my own garments. Naked and feeling more vulnerable than I think I’ve ever felt before this, I lower to the edge of the bed, clutching her hand, reminding myself to breathe.
Jezebel returns and I force my posture straighter, ridding my face of any expression whatsoever. I’m certain that any perceived sense of doubt would cause her to hesitate and possibly even botch the ritual on purpose, and I need this to work.
Ithasto work.
