Would she be happy with me living like this?
Fuck, what a loaded question.
I wouldn’t be able to fully wrap my head around it while standing in the hallway, especially with my kids waiting for Natalie, and Giselle about to come in and tell me everything not-Charles had said to her.
“You have a good night now, Natalie.”
She gripped my arm, a rare touch from the stern woman. “You are allowed to have a good night as well. And you are allowednotto. The important thing is thatyoudecide. No one else. No phantoms, no cruel voices in your head. You, and only you.”
For someone who spoke so selectively, she really had a way with words. I squeezed her arm in response, our own version of a hug, and then she stepped out.
I followed her, standing on my porch. Benny high-fived Giselle, and Veronica clung to her neck until Natalie tenderly pulled her off and buckled the toddler into her car seat.
After my wife’s funeral, people had expected Natalie and I to get together. After all, other than the kids, we were technically the only family each other had left. But although I loved Natalie deeply and would be forever grateful for everything she’d done for my children, there wasn’t a lick of romance between us. Not one ounce of chemistry. She was my packmate. It didn’t matter that she was a horse shifter, it didn’t matter that she had never technically joined my pack before the massacre. What mattered was that we were family now.
I wasn’t quite ready to think about what she’d said, but there would be a lot of sleepless nights in my future where I would do just that.
“That was lovely.”
Giselle’s voice drew me back to the present as Natalie pulled out of the driveway.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said, wanting to delay the inevitable. Although I was itching with curiosity to hear whatthat man had said to her, I also didn’t want the reminder of all that. It was nice to pretend we were both normal folks of the same species and this was a normal dinner on anormalnight.
Normal.
I used to deride such a term. Said I’d rather be dead than be normal. At the time, I had meant boring. But now? Now I would give anything for the banality of a normal life.
“There are plenty of leftovers, if you’d like me to pack up some for you.”
“I know that the polite thing would probably be for me to say no, but honestly, that was so delicious I think my father would dropkick me if I refused. Feel free to load me up with anything you think you and the kids can’t polish off.”
It was a little thing, but my wolf jumped on any opportunity to be a provider and bask in it. Alphas were funny that way. I knew quite a few who liked to posture and pretend that they were macho-macho wolves who needed to fight to feel alive, but really, when it came down to it, our leader instincts were all about protecting, providing, and nurturing. We were so wired to do so that any sort of threat to our pack, to those in our charge, was met with immediate and decisive action.
Sometimes, decisive action was indeed a battle to the death. But sometimes it was something as simple as providing a warm meal, a safe home, or medical care. Being an alpha was thousands upon thousands of small decisions and actions that were all supposed to lead to the betterment of every member of the pack.
And that was why what happened haunted me so thoroughly.
There were hundreds of things I could have done to prevent what happened. Things Ishouldhave done as their protector. I should have noticed that Charles’s anger had gotten so much worse after Tiffany had run off with his engagement ring on her finger. I should have noticed that he was going on runs on hisown more rather than with the pack. I should have realized his scent was far too ingrained in the letter that came from Natalie’s pack.
And once me and my entourage of two other warriors got to the location and were beset by ten alphas and their loyal betas, I should have died with my companions. That was the way for an alpha to go. To be the only one to survive the fight was shameful. That was why I never objected when someone whispered about cowardice behind my back.
I should have been dead. Josiah had fallen first, the three of us trying to watch each other’s backs, but we were so outnumbered that there wasn’t much we could do.
But we didn’t give up. It was just me and my trusted friend and fellow scrapper Jon, fighting back to back. Teeth gnashing and claws swiping. We were losing badly, but we had each other’s backs.
Jon had spotted the shifter in human form on the crest of the hill, hands and forearms protected by gauntlets, about to fire a silver arrow dipped in wolfsbane right at me.
He’d tried to catch it, but even with enhanced reflexes that was quite a feat, especially in the heat of battle. He’d miscalculated, and it had gone right through his jaw instead of skewering my heart.
That was the first time in my life I had ever known true, pure, unadulterated alpha rage. It was like my humanity had vanished, leaving a cursed creature very similar to the werewolves of myth. I became the thing that humans had whispered about in terror for centuries. No compassion, no sentience. Just violence and the demand to kill.
By the time I came to, I was drenched in blood and standing in a pile of viscera. It was a mild precursor to what I would do to Charles once I found him. I had heard a gasp and ran to Jon, who’d been forced back into his human body by the silverpoisoning. I pulled the bolt out, and the gurgling noise he had made was awful, but it was too late. The wound was far too close to his brain and I had no idea how long I had been a monster. I held him until he’d stopped breathing, then ran home.
Only to find that hell had already reached my home.
“Ben, can you tell me five things you see?”
Huh?
