“I can leave because I was never alpha.”
“What are you talking about?” she began and then started up in Italian.
He knew this was coming. He knew it was only a matter of time before he got the huge lecture he hated so much, but today it was just more proof. Why would an alpha wolf hate to hear from a distant, aged relative?
Because his wolf thought she was in charge of things. Because when his father had died, she took a traumatized and terrified little boy and told him everything was going to be all right. She was going to take care of everything, and he had believed her. He never stopped believing her.
“You are my alpha,” he said. “You are the alpha of every Amato on this continent. And you have been since the day my father died.”
Miraculously, for the first time, her harangue stopped.
“I love you, Nonna.Ti amo, but I never wanted this life.”
“But your wolf?—”
“He used to, but we have a better one waiting that works for both of us.”
“Your company!”
“Matt is going to run it better than I ever could have.” He bit his tongue. He should tell her about Tori and that there would be more witches in her life, but he’d let Matt do that. He couldn’t make everything easy. “I’m going to play with code and do the stuff I’m actually good at.”
“From the wilderness!”
“They have Wi-Fi.” He was going to spend an absurd amount of money bringing broadband to the town of Silver Spring to make sure of it.
“But the pack! I cannot.”
“You have for decades, so clearly you can. Everyone else is on board. The moment I said it, it was obvious to all of them. Can’t you feel it? The weight?”
He couldn’t anymore. He still felt his pack as vague connections in his brain, but they weren’t pulling on him, and it was the best feeling in the world.
“I’m 89!” she said. She only seemed to be capable of two-word sentences at the moment, and he was mildly worried; maybe he would get another wolf to come over after this. Maybe someone should steal her espresso stash. Then her words registered.
“I knew you weren’t eighty-six last year!”
She lit off again in Italian.
“Nonna! Nonna, you’re going to live to a hundred. And by that time, Jackson will be of age.”
She clutched her chest. “An alpha named Jackson.”
He burst out laughing so hard he could taste espresso again. “That’s what I said.”
He leaned forward and wrapped his arm around her softly. “I love you. I love the family. I will be back for visits.”
“With a witch.”
“You’d love her.”
He didn’t say it, but he figured they had some of the same magic. Tori had finally given him the proper names for all twelve talents, as well as how they were organized first into active and receptive magic, then into three buckets: pattern, natural, and elemental magic. Pattern magic made order out of chaos; natural magic was connected to phenomena in the world, and elemental were the oldest, most powerful but also the simplest talents.
He knew that if he were a witch, he would probably be some kind of patternmaker. Hell, that’s literally all he did with his time. Codes were nothing but patterns. Cat’s divination was an elemental skill. Somehow, the two of them worked.
Nonna was a different kind of wolf. She sometimes stared into the distance with a look he’d seen on Cat’s face more than once, only to come back to herself with an intuitive leap that made his brain hurt. It was something to study more, whether the magic that went into each wolf privileged one talent or another. It was far more subtle, and they didn’t seem to do anything with it until they found a witch of their own, but it was there. After all, she’d randomly sent him right to his fated mate.
He stood up. “Call anytime, but you don’t need me.”
“I am the alpha?” she said, and he blinked. He was genuinely worried about her, but he also knew he was not the right person to calm her down. Every word that came out of his mouth seemed to rile her more and render her more speechless. “Impossibile!”
