And then.
If he closed his eyes too long he knew he’d see the nightmarish images of that horrible scene, hear Dewi’s tiny, choked cries.
Everyone talking to him later in the hospital when all he’d wanted to do was sit next to her bassinet and stare at her, will her to live, to survive.
To thrive.
How he’d held her tiny hand all night while pouring every ounce of his Prime powers that he could into her, willing her to be okay, willing her to fight, to live. He’d sensed even then she was an Alpha, but she was ababy, barely six months old.
Finally, it was Trent and Badger and Beck, all of them looking haggard, horrible, telling him he had to assume control of the pack immediately, publicly. That they had to take knees to him and name him the pack Alpha before fear replaced the rage currently surging through everyone even as the hunt was underway for the fucker who’d done this.
How, the next morning, he’d numbly let them drive him back to the compound while Aunt Collette and her mate sat with Dewi, promising not to leave her, armed guards also standing watch.
He barely remembered the somber public meeting in the great hall where Trent took over, announced what happened—in case there were people who somehow hadn’t already known—and then formally announced he was taking a knee to Peyton and passing control of the pack to him.
How Badger, their father’s second, also pledged his support for Peyton and did likewise, as did Beck, and the other enforcers.
Those dark times.
He’d barely wanted to let Dewi out of his arms over the next several weeks, even when they knew the worst was past and she’d survive.
He’d never voiced it, but he wondered if the reason Dewi became a Prime Alpha was all the countless hours he prayed to the Goddess that he’d give Dewi every last ounce of strength in his body if she’d just survive. The grief and rage that had filled him, warring for control. All the nights he sat next to her while she slept in her crib and he held her hand, terrified for her safety.
Maybe it’d worn off on her, somehow, even though that wasn’t how it worked. You were born a Prime, or you weren’t.
At least, that’s what everyone said.
Except there’d never been a known female Prime Alpha before.
Still, Dewi had been the latest in a long, direct line of Prime Alpha males. Their mom had been an Alpha, the only one of Duncan’s daughters born an Alpha. Their father’s father had been a Prime Alpha.
And Duncan was a Prime, Grandmother Louisa an Alpha.
And Peyton remembered how, the day after Dewi’s birth, their father had admitted to him that after Peyton’s own difficult birth he’d sat there, holding him and with a hand on their mom, sending his Prime energy to them both, willing them to survive. And then during Dewi’s birth and immediately after.
It was… impossible.
Ridiculous, even.
And yet…
Had first his father, and then him, unwittingly worked together and created one of the most powerful Prime Alphas ever known? The first known Prime Alpha female?
Peyton poured himself a drink and returned to the window to stare out it at their backyard. It wouldn’t be long now before their own child was born, a little girl.
Now he understood how his father could, without hesitation, claim he’d readily kill or die for any of them, to protect them, to take out anyone who’d do them harm.
Because Peyton now felt that coursing through his own veins, a nearly desperate, cut-throat need to sweep all the pieces off the board and take complete and utter control.
To stop at nothing to wipe out any and all threats.
To take no prisoners, no matter the cost.
He only hoped if Dewi currently felt that same need that she could also control it.
Because whatever was out there and coming for them… Peyton sensed it literally could end their entire existence as they knew it.
And the only way they would beat it in today’s technologically advanced world was to out-think it and remain two steps ahead of it.
