Alpha: Devil's Rose MC #3

Chapter 1: King Osborn

Dedication:
To him; the man who lets me
indulge in personal joys and
gives me indescribable happiness
in unexplainable ways

"They were asking about you."

"You say that every time you walk in the house, Alpha."

"Not every time. I don't talk to them every day."

"Don't be a smart ass. You know exactly what I'm saying."

I roll my eyes, hanging my President cut on the hook next to one of Persephone's jackets. Well, technically it was my sister's, but she gave it up for, and I quote, 'her favorite person in the world.' Ouch. Her gorgeous green eyes flick up to meet mine. 

For about the last two weeks she's been here - living in my home I mean. It's not a long time, not long at all, but lately, I have found myself looking forward to seeing her waiting for me. Persephone Hope Estrada, how you have stolen my sanity. If I was honest with myself, I would enjoy it more. 

I would enjoy having a woman waiting for me, staying in my home, smiling up at me. But for the circumstances, I don't think there's anything I should be happy about. Victoria Kellen - that bitch - changed her life forever. I am not privy to all the details, but from what I know, I'm glad that Beatrice murdered her. 

Now, she's here with me, on her terms, trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life. And, she's honestly not doing that well.

She looks to me for a lot of things. Things she doesn't need permission for, like using the restroom or whether or not she can sleep. She hasn't left the house except for going for walks through the forest or sitting outside in the backyard. 

She is constantly on edge, never getting enough hours of sleep, and having nightmares when she can eventually try to rest. She barely eats anything, hardly able to keep any meals that aren't small down. Lights have to be on, the windows never open, and the doors locked. 

And she cries. 

Though she doesn't know I can hear her. Right before she goes to bed, right after she awakes, over her morning sips of coffee, most likely in the shower as well. But when I'm around, she blinks up at me in an air of innocence as if she is hiding everything behind that smile of hers. 

But Persephone's not going to share with me; I have been trying to accept that. She's not going to talk unless she's ready, just as I have been doing with her. I haven't shared my life, traumas, and struggles that affected me in a different way than how her struggles affected her.

"What's for dinner?"

"That's all you want from me? Food?"

"Priorities..."

I reach my hand out, which she gladly takes and squeezes it. I lace our fingers together, pulling the gorgeous woman off the couch and into the kitchen. Her shoulder-length, honey-blonde hair sweeps partly over her rose beige skin tone. For a moment, the desire to sweep my hand through her locks to push it out of her eyes almost overtakes me, but I keep my rogue hands to myself. 

Naturally, I find my heart thudding when she looks at me with those glossy eyes of glorious green. Her gaze flicks over the arm tattoos - a staple in the MC community I have command over - on my sand-colored complexion to my muscular and toned chest/stomach area. She tries to be subtle, she really does, but she's terrible at it. 

She's so fucking adorable, and I like her staring at me, so I'm not going to stop her - I can't. Not when I catch myself looking at her in the same way, though I'm much better at hiding it. I don't want to truly admit it to myself, but she is doing more to me than I ever expected from a woman.

The meal I make for us is simple. Fettuccine with white sauce, mushrooms, peas, and shrimp alongside fruit salad containing cantaloupe, strawberries, and mango. I watch her happily eating the meal beside me, eating a greater amount than normal, and I feel utterly grateful that I can make her smile. Grateful I can make her feel comfortable. 

There were a few days when she just began living with me that she would barely speak, let alone grin. Gradually, and without pressure from me or my sister Charlie, she opened up to where she is now. And I know that over time she will continue to make progress. 

It's the little things such as not waiting for permission or feeling confident enough to get something to eat from the kitchen when I am not around. There are going to be times where things might get worse, there are going to be moments of pure clarity, but I'm ready to go on that roller coaster with her. There is no other person in my life that I want to help more than her.

During the day, I have Nick or Major - in pure confidentiality - go over to my home and make sure that she gets something to eat. Those two men already belong in the brotherhood, officially, but I haven't made the move. There is still something I'm waiting for. 

I don't know what exactly it is, but when the moment comes I'll know. They haven't exactly proven their loyalty yet. Yes, they are amazing men, which I cannot deny. However, an opportunity hasn't arisen for them yet that will truly determine their capabilities to move up in the ranks. 

I remember what I had to go through to get my biker name, to take the President title from my father, to deserve to wear a Devil's Rose MC cut. But all of that is beside the point. Just as I had to be patient to be where I am today, that patience is going to come in handy if I am going to be able to make any headway in helping Persephone become more confident in her abilities and freedom.

"Is your sister coming over this week?"

"No, I thought she told you about her trip."

"Trip where?"

"To Germany with Becca and Heath."

"Oh yeah, with her partners. I remember now. Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, doll."

A perfect pink blush spreads across her cheeks, traveling down her neck. Shit, she's beautiful. Her lips part, a soft groan exiting her mouth as a fork full of twisted pasta lands on her taste buds. My pants begin to tighten around my crotch area, and I instantly freeze. 

Fuck no. I'm not about to get turned on by an absolutely exquisite woman who has been to hell and back and is recovering from trauma. She should be healing, and I shouldn't be the man to cross any boundaries with her. Now is not the time for anything more intimate than a friendship, and my horny brain needs to figure that out fucking quick. 

I know better than this, I was taught to be better than this. My mother doesn't even have to physically be here to tell me she's disappointed with my behavior, I can already hear her ringing voice in my head. Her ringing voice that I love so dearly because she's my mother, and I enjoy every moment I get with her.

I clear my throat, focusing myself back on the food in front of me. I can feel the pressure of her eyes on me, but I don't acknowledge her curiosity. I know she wants to know what I've been doing all day and why the hell I have bloody knuckles, but I don't exactly want her to know all the gory details. 

Maybe I want to help preserve her innocence, protect her from the violence of the MC world, or protect myself from her frustration with me. Or maybe, I just don't want her to think of me as any different, but I don't care about the reason. I can't care about the reason because any justification is still me hiding something from her. 

I clench my jaw, my teeth grinding together unhealthy, and I see her forest eyes flick away from me. The last time a woman was curious enough to ask about the life I lead, nothing good came out of it, and I'm not making that same mistake again. I have already learned that lesson.

I catch her eyes as she peers at me once again, but just as I think she's going to comment, she only reaches her hand across the table. Her soft palm lays in mine, the tips of her fingers brushing against my veined inner arm. I watch her fingers dance along my tattooed skin, her eyes full of wonderment. 

Warmth fills my chest, my face hardly able to contain my smile. I wonder what she's thinking about. I don't want her to ever feel scared around me. I hope she doesn't feel pressured to do anything with me. She peers up at me, her soft hand laying in mine.

And I'm completely gone.