Page 6 of Betrayed Alpha Mate

Just crazy about her.

Chapter 2 - Emily

My heart’s pounding escalates even when I’m finally behind closed doors, in the sanctuary of my own home, far away from the alpha. I should be able to breathe again, but every part of me is trembling, lips quivering, tongue still laced with the potion I drank tonight.

I can’t believe I had the guts to do what I’ve always wanted to: slap Sean for his crimes against me. But revenge is supposed to be sweet, not as frightening as it felt just now.

That was a close call!

Maybe it’s because the slap was a way to get out when I almost got caught trying to unlock my magical powers—powers that I’m trying to keep secret from the squad until I have some semblance of control over them.

If slapping Sean was only a way to escape his probing, then I still owe him for what he did to me in the past.

“Maybe I am crazy, but I think you did something with your little potion to make me feel crazy about you!”

“Hah!” I let out scornfully, realizing I’d only run home because I was half-expecting Sean to chase me after that. What had gotten into him, speaking like that to me? Maybe he was drunk, or high on wolfsbane.

Were they celebrating at today’s meeting?

I shake my head at the thought, knowing that the others wouldn’t be that careless. But Sean’s behavior tonight was out of the ordinary, and I am too exhausted by the ritual to try and dissect his actions.

Finally, I exhale a long, drawn-out breath behind my front door, able to move my trembling fingers enough to lock the door and kick off my shoes before padding toward the kitchen.

At least he didn’t follow me, and I can now calm my raging heart. I grab a bottle of chilled water from the fridge before sinking onto a chair overlooking my kitchen window, where I can watch the full moon in the night sky. Pressing the cool bottle to my forehead, I close my eyes for a moment to say a last prayer to the Moon Goddess to fulfill the ritual I’d worked hard to complete.

I’ve been praying to Her all evening, and every day since I stumbled on that ritual and recipe in Donna’s grandmother’s book. Praying that it works, because I had to wait three weeks for a rare plant—hibiscus waimeae—to be delivered from Hawaii, then another two weeks for it to steep in honey to be considered consumable.

I patiently waited for the next full moon to arise before going through with the ritual, which was supposed to be simple. “Drink the potion, and the magic will be unlocked.”

All I’ve had for weeks is this nagging, tingling sensation in my fingers and palms. It stopped this morning, and I nearly lost my mind thinking that I’d lost my connection to some mystic powers.

But then I drank the potion and felt it again when—

No.

It’s not because Sean burst in and grabbed my wrist.

It’s just the effects of the potion working its magic on me. I just need to give it time. Once I’m sure that I have real magic in me, I’ll tell the others, and I’ll be an actual help to them.

Sighing, I take a sip of my water, a bout of loneliness creeping into my heart. I haven’t felt that way in a long time, and perhaps it’s because I’ve been able to distract myself all this time that I haven’t faced what I’ve always felt inside—a feeling that can’t be buried.

Loneliness shouldn’t make me feel sad when I’ve faced it most of my life. Long before I was old enough to receive a wolf, I lost both my parents and spent the last three years of high school just trudging along.

I only had one person who really cared about me, someone I could rely on, someone I considered a confidante.

Luna Evelyn Lowell.

I should be grateful for the time I did have with her, because it’s almost rare to meet a luna with so much compassion and empathy that it was easy to forget she was technically royalty in Silverfang.

But it’s times like these when I miss her, because I would have been able to speak to her about my suspicions, knowing that she would have kept my secret until I was ready to reveal it to my friends. She probably would have encouraged me to figure out my powers and even reminded me not to be so insecure because I’ve always been drawn to healing with plants.

I could trust her with my life, as she trusted me with hers.

Sniffing and fighting back the tears, I rub the back of my hand across my nose, sadness quickly turning to anger when I thought about the man who barged in on me when I was performing the ritual.

I could trust his mother with my life, but I can never trust him.

Not after what he did to hurt me in the past. Perhaps that’s why I need to have concrete proof of my magical gifts before approaching our friends.