Free fate of the alpha - episode 1 by Tasha Black Page A

blanket?” Julian asked.
    Ainsley nodded and sprinted upstairs.
    Not wanting to look at Erik’s writhing naked body, Julian was left looking over the table at Grace. He hoped not in a lewd manner.
    It was difficult to look at her at all without thinking of freeing her shining hair from the pony tail and running his fingers through it. He imagined it would smell like a summer night with evening jasmine blooming and fireflies winking in the plush darkness.
    Ainsley was back and wrapped the blanket around her mate with such care. It seemed that she thought that maybe if she did it just right he would open his eyes and be well again.
    “Can you tell me exactly what happened?” Julian asked.
    She took a careful breath.
    “We were walking in the woods. All of a sudden the leaves were circling me and there was this strange glowing pattern in them. And it turned into a snake. I was frozen in place. And just as it was about to bite me, Erik shifted and knocked me out of the way. And it bit him-”
    She pressed her lips together tightly, unable to continue.
    Dear god, the snake. Julian recognized the elements of that spell. Did this mean that Erik…?
    He studied the younger man’s face out of the corner of his eye.
    Erik did seem somehow…less.
    But it could also be that he was passed out and in pain.
    “Whoever set this trap is very, very good. I remember this spell from the book and it is a very difficult one,” Julian said.
    “What do we do?” Ainsley asked.
    “I don’t remember anything about a reversal or a cure,” Julian said carefully.
    “The first thing to do for a snakebite is get out the poison,” Grace said firmly.
    “This is not an actual snakebite. A cottage spell for venom doesn’t apply.”
    Julian heard the dismissive tone in his voice as soon as the words were said. But he couldn’t take them back. So much for not being an ass.
    Though he wasn’t a wolf, he could practically smell Grace’s disgust.
    What was the matter with him?
    “Turn him over,” Grace said calmly.
    Ainsley turned Erik over like a mother rolling over a sleeping baby. A gasp escaped her as she saw the extent of the injury.
    The wound was purple and swollen to the size of a softball. Black lines spread from it like a rotten spiderweb.
    “It smells like…death,” Ainsley whispered.
    Grace was unwavering. She traced a circle in the air over the wound with her arms, then another.
    “This is going to be rough. Get him something to bite down on in case he wakes up in the middle.”
    Ainsley dashed to the kitchen and came back with a wooden spoon. She placed it on the table next to Erik, then began to pace up and down the room.
    Grace took a few deep breaths, drawing herself up to her fullest possible height.
    She reached out over Erik once more. Her arms were strong, her movements fluid and graceful. Julian was reminded once again of a ballerina.
    Slowly and deliberately she made motions as though she were gathering up cotton candy. Then she pulled.
    Erik screamed. Ainsley placed the big end of the spoon in her mate’s mouth, and he bit down hard enough to make indentations in the wood.
    Nothing happened to the wound.
    Ainsley resumed her pacing. Four steps toward the kitchen, four steps back. The look on her face was terrifying.
    Julian let out his breath slowly. Grace’s sheer determination had made him half expect her improvised spell to actually work.
    “Damn it!” Grace hissed, squaring her small shoulders and beginning again.
    Julian studied her face, sweat beaded on her brow and she breathed hard and fast, as though she were lifting a huge weight.
    Grace wasn’t using the correct words - or any words. Her posture was dreadful and her breathing was worse. How could she possibly expect anything to happen?
    Erik screamed again through clenched teeth.
    Julian opened his mouth to shut her down. There was no point torturing the poor man.
    A wisp of silver trickling out of Erik’s wound froze the protest in his throat.
    The