Page 21 of Alpha Brock
What the fuck was that?!
I blink, dumbfounded, staring down at my open palm, then looking across from me at Brock’s chest. I slide my gaze up to his eyes, and they’re alert; curious. Concerned.
“Are you alright?” he asks. “What was…”
“Who’s Anna?” I interrupt, blinking up at him.
I don’t know much about Brock, but I do know that he’s a master at hiding his emotions- I can rarely tell what he’s thinking, and there’s never a crack in the façade. When I say that name, though, he immediately pales, his impenetrable mask slipping. There’s no concealing his reaction: he’s caught off guard. He knows someone with that name.
Holy crap, I’m pretty sure I just had a full-blown vision!
My mind is reeling, excitement bubbling up inside of me at the realization. My grandmother was a seer, but I’ve never had a vision before, so I always just assumed that I couldn’t. Maybe my gift hasn’t been going haywire lately, maybe it has been developing into something more, something beyond being just an intuitive. Maybe the change in scenery or the stress of the impending attack spurred it on? Either way,holy shit!
“I think I just had a vision!” I gush excitedly. “I’ve never had one before, but that’s totally what it was… it’s like I was here in the kitchen one second, and in the woods the next… it felt like I was actually there!” I’m talking a mile a minute, practically jumping out of my skin.
Brock’s just staring at me like I’ve sprouted a second head, but his confusion does nothing to tamp down my enthusiasm over this new discovery.I had a fucking vision!
“It was summertime, and I was in the forest… you were there, and some girl with reddish hair,” I continue, barely pausing to breathe. “She pulled her hand away from you and started walking away and you said ‘Anna, please’… who’s Anna? I mean I guess it could’ve been a vision of the future, but it felt like it already happened…”
I’m so enthralled by this new development, so engrossed in my own excitement that I miss how quickly Brock’s demeanor changes. He bristles, his eyes widening, his jaw twitching.
“Was it something that happened in the past?” I press. “How long ago? And were you thinking of it for some reason? Maybe if I tried again…” I reach out to touch his chest, but he recoils from me like I’m poison.
“Stay the fuck out of my head!” he growls, eyes wild. He slowly starts backing away, like he’s suddenly wary of me. Shaking his head in disbelief as a deep scowl forms on his face.
“Brock…” I should realize from the way he’s acting that he doesn’t want any part of this, but I can’t help it- I’m still freaking out over the fact that I just had my very first vision.I’m a seer!I have to know more; I need to determine whether I can peek into the past or the future or both and what the implications of this newfound ability may be. “Can you just… can you tell me if it’s something that already happened?” I ask cautiously.
It’s the wrong fucking move. He’s angry, furious, and my question only tosses fuel onto the fire. Brock drops his hands to his sides and balls them into fists. “No, I don’t want anything to do with your freaky psychic shit,” he spits, venom in his tone.
Ouch. That one hurt- it’s not like I asked for this gift to be bestowed upon me. It’s just part of who I am.
“But…” I start to protest, but Brock cuts me off, shaking his head again.
And just like that, the mask is back in place. He stares at me, deadpan. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Astrid.” His voice is so cold, devoid of any human emotion.
Brock turns away, stalking toward the stairs. Reaching them in a second flat and then taking them two at a time, ascending into the darkness.
Leaving me standing there in the kitchen feeling like an absolute freakshow.
And considering the fact that I just chased him off by having a psychic vision, I guess I kinda am.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Brock
When my alarm goes off the next morning, I feel like I’ve barely just closed my eyes. Another fucking restless night’s sleep, if you can even call it that- I was tossing and turning and thinking about the vision Astrid said she had. Of course her first vision would be of the worst night of my life.
Hearing Astrid describe the scene dredged up all of the painful memories associated with how things ended between me and Annalise. I remember the white tank top she was wearing and how her strawberry blonde hair looked almost pink that night under the light of the nearly full moon. I remember how fucking helpless I felt when I begged her to stay, to keep the promises she’d made and choose me, but she still walked away and ended it all. Except that wasn’t really the end, not even close- she’s continued to torment me ever since, relentlessly haunting my dreams and memories. Because I thought she was the one, and I was a damn fool. Because I believed in her, and in us, and belief is a dangerous thing when placed in reckless hands.
I’m in a foul mood when I drag myself out of bed, and I’m so fucking exhausted that I can barely drag a brush through my hair. I tie it back and slip on a t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, ready to take out some of this frustration during morning training with the squad. I toss on a hoodie for good measure, yanking up the hood, sliding my phone in the front pocket, and heading downstairs.
“Damn, you look like shit,” Brent comments as soon as I hit the kitchen, his eyes widening.
Guess the dark circles under my eyes are a dead giveaway of the night I had.
“Thanks,” I mutter, heading for the coffee pot.
Before I can reach it, Jared is already pouring me some. “Did you want to finish up the list of placements for the Denver wolves today?” he asks, thrusting a full cup of black coffee in my direction.