Ruthless Alpha, and his Curvy Saint-Chapter 58

Angel’s POV

I was still trying to process the fact that Harland was here, alive, standing in front of me when the reality of the situation crashed in.

Harland was Hawkins’ son.

The son of the man who’d kept me prisoner, who’d degraded and tortured me, who’d treated me like property.

But Harland had never been like his father. He had shown me kindness in that hell.

I’d genuinely wondered if he’d survived the fire at Hawkins’ estate. The warriors had spoken of it in such scattered details - Hawkin’s castle burned to the ground, nothing left - that I’d assumed everyone inside had perished.

But here he was.

And despite everything, I was happy he’d made it out.

"Harland," I started, pulling back slightly from his embrace. "I’m so glad you’re... wait, if you’re here, what about your father? Did Hawkins..."

I didn’t get to finish.

One moment Harland’s arms were around me.

The next, he was airborne.

Uriel had grabbed him - literally grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hoisted him up like he weighed nothing, holding him suspended in the air at arm’s length.

"Who the hell are you?" Uriel’s voice was deadly quiet. Too quiet. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"Uriel!" I called out. "Put him down!"

Uriel didn’t even glance at me. His entire focus was locked on Harland, who was struggling uselessly, his feet dangling several inches off the ground.

"I asked you a question," Uriel said, his voice dropping even lower. "Who are you and why were you touching her?"

Someone cleared their throat loudly.

The Alpha.

Standing near his seat, his expression impassive but his eyes sharp with warning.

Uriel ignored him completely.

"I’m waiting," he said to Harland.

Merrick stepped forward, his voice calm. "His name is Harland. He’s Lord Hawkins’ son."

The room erupted in murmurs.

Hawkins has a son?

The same Hawkins whose castle we burned down?

What’s he doing here?

"I don’t care whose son he is," Uriel snarled. "I want to know why he was holding my..." He caught himself. "The Alpha’s mate."

"Uriel," Merrick said again, more firmly this time. "Put him down. The boy is clearly struggling to breathe."

It was true. Harland’s face was turning an alarming shade of red, his hands clawing at Uriel’s grip on his collar.

"I’ll put him down when he answers my question," Uriel said.

"I came..." Harland choked out, "...to keep Angel safe."

The words seemed to make Uriel angrier instead of calmer.

"Safe?" he repeated, his voice like ice. "Safe from what?"

"From the man who killed her family." Harland managed to get the words out despite his obvious difficulty breathing. "From the Alpha she’s fated to. From..."

Uriel dropped him.

Not gently. Not with care.

He literally opened his hand and let Harland fall like a sack of grain.

Harland hit the floor hard, gasping, his hands going to his throat.

Uriel turned to me, his dark eyes blazing with something I’d never seen before.

Fury. Pure, incandescent fury.

"You knew this man?" he demanded.

I nodded, instinctively taking a step back from the intensity radiating off him. "His name is Harland. He’s..."

"Hawkins’ son, yes, I heard that part." Uriel’s voice was getting louder now, losing the deadly quiet in favor of something more explosive. "What I want to know is how you know him. How long you’ve known him. What he is to you."

"He was kind to me," I said, my own voice small. "At Hawkins’ estate. When everyone else was... he tried to help me. He’s a good man, Uriel."

"A good man? Are you trying to say that Hawkins’ spawn is a good man?"

"Yes," I said, lifting my chin despite my fear. "He is. He showed me kindness when..."

"And who the hell made you the judge of character?" Uriel roared.

The words hit like a slap.

I flinched back, genuine fear flooding through me.

I’d never seen Uriel like this. Never seen him lose control, never heard him raise his voice, never witnessed this kind of barely restrained violence radiating from him.

He looked like he wanted to hurt something.

Someone.

Me?

"URIEL!"

The Alpha’s voice cut through the room like a whip.

Sharp and commanding.

Uriel stopped mid-breath, his expression still filled with anger.

He looked at me.

Saw the fear in my eyes.

Saw me flinching away from him.

Something in his face cracked.

Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the dining room, his footsteps echoing violently down the corridor.

Silence descended.

Harland struggled to his feet, one hand still massaging his throat, his face pale. He moved to take a seat at the table, dropping into a chair like his legs wouldn’t support him anymore.

Merrick was suddenly beside me, his hand gentle on my elbow, guiding me back toward my seat.

I followed numbly, still trying to process what had just happened.

Uriel had yelled at me.

Had looked at me with something that looked like hatred.

Had made me genuinely afraid of him for the first time since we’d met.

I sank into my chair, my hands shaking.

The moment I was seated, the Alpha stood.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge anyone. Just walked out of the dining room in the same direction Uriel had gone.

Terror spiked through me.

"Oh God," I breathed.

The Alpha was going after Uriel.

The Alpha, who’d already demonstrated his cruelty, his willingness to punish those who displeased him, who ruled through fear and violence...

He was going to hurt Uriel.

Because of me.

Because Uriel had caused a scene defending me, had disrespected the Alpha’s authority, had made it obvious that he cared about the Alpha’s supposed mate more than was appropriate for a simple warrior.

"Merrick," I turned to him, grabbing his arm. "You have to help him."

Merrick looked down at where I held his sleeve tightly, then up at my face.

"Help who?"

"Your brother! Uriel! The Alpha just went after him. He’s going to punish him, hurt him, maybe even..." I couldn’t finish the thought. "Please. You have to stop him."

***

Merrick’s POV

I looked at Angel’s terrified face, at the genuine fear and concern written across her features.

She really cares about him, I realized. About Terrell pretending to be Uriel.

Damn him.

Terrell didn’t even need help. In fact, with the kind of rage I’d just witnessed, it would be Bellick who needed protecting if he tries to soothe my brother’s anger.

The Alpha couldn’t hurt Terrell.

Because the Alpha was Terrell.

But Angel didn’t know that.

And her panic over "Uriel’s" safety was... telling.

Very telling.

"Uriel will be fine," I said out loud, keeping my voice calm and reassuring. "Let’s eat."

"But the Alpha just went after him!" Angel’s grip on my arm tightened. "What if he’s hurting him right now? The Alpha is a devil, Merrick. He’s capable of terrible things."

I looked at her carefully, studying the genuine distress in her eyes.

She was afraid. For Terrell. For the man she thought was just a kind warrior.

Maybe his method isn’t completely terrible, I admitted reluctantly. At least it’s making her care about him.

"The Alpha cannot hurt my brother under my roof," I said firmly. "He’s a guest here, same as you. And I have rules about violence in my castle." A lie, but a believable one. "Eat, Angel. Everything will be fine."

She nodded, but I could see she didn’t believe me.

Her gaze kept drifting toward the exit, toward where both men had disappeared.

Dinner continued in awkward, strained silence.

Everyone ate quietly, not daring to say a word. Even Lyra and her father seemed to be uncomfortable.

And Harland...

Harland kept trying to catch Angel’s eye, kept looking at her like he was trying to communicate with her.

But she never looked back at him.

Not once.

I watched carefully throughout the entire meal.

Angel’s attention was completely focused on that exit. On worrying about Terrell. On imagining what terrible things the "Alpha" might be doing to "Uriel."

She didn’t spare a single glance for Harland.

Didn’t acknowledge his presence beyond that initial shock of recognition.

Didn’t seem to register the obvious affection in his gaze.

Interesting.

Whatever Harland thought he meant to Angel, she clearly didn’t reciprocate the feeling.

Which made him less of a threat than I’d initially worried.

When dinner finally ended - mercifully - Harland immediately stood and made his way toward Angel.

I let him.

Because I’d already learned what I needed to know.

"Angel," Harland said, his voice still slightly hoarse from Uriel’s chokehold. "Can we talk? Please? I’ve traveled so far to find you, and there’s so much I need to say..."

Angel looked at him, and I saw compassion in her expression.

But not attraction. Not interest. Just... kindness.

"Of course," she said gently. "We can talk."

I stood, drawing her attention.

"I’ll come find you later tonight," I said. "Or in the morning. There are things I’d like to discuss with you as well."

She nodded.

"In the meantime," I added, my voice dropping slightly, "keep reading that book."

Her cheeks colored beautifully. "I will."

"Good girl."

I left, heading toward where I knew my brother would be.

I found Terrell exactly where I expected - in my private study, sprawled in one of the leather chairs near the fireplace, a bottle of my strongest alcohol in his hand.

He’d already consumed a significant portion of it, judging by how much was missing.

"What are you doing here?" he asked without looking up.

"It’s my private study," I pointed out, moving to sit in the chair across from him. "I should be asking you the same question."

Terrell finally looked up, his eyes sharp despite the alcohol.

He was trying to read me. Trying to figure out what I knew, what I’d planned, what game I was playing.

"You knew," he said finally. "You knew that boy was coming here, didn’t you? Let him into this castle to stir things up."

"I had no idea who Harland was until he showed up at my door half-dead from exposure," I said honestly. "Though I’ll admit, his timing is... inconvenient for you."

"Inconvenient," Terrell repeated flatly. "The boy shows up claiming he wants to protect my mate. My bride. Hugs her in front of everyone like he has a right to touch her." His hand tightened on the bottle. "And you call that inconvenient?"

"I call it competition," I corrected. "Which, if you’ll recall, you already have. From me."

Terrell’s jaw clenched.

"You’ll just have to cope with the young man," I said mildly. "He’s here now. Can’t exactly throw him back out into the storm."

Terrell took another long drink. "He has tonight. Tomorrow morning, storm or no storm, he’s leaving."