Back when we were in school, years before I’d become the sub-Alpha of Snehvolk through the trials, I used to bully her. She’d been battered and bruised by my brutal words, and I cannot imagine what’s going through her head right now.
There’s no way she’ll agree to this. I’ve done way too much damage for her to even give me a second glance, let alone consider becoming my mate. I pushed her so far away in my determination to steer clear of her that I haven’t even crossed paths with her in the Girdwood village for years.
Had she been avidly avoiding me all this time? Just as I was avoiding her when I learned that she became a healer in the pack’s clinic?
I’m not the same immature boy I was back then, but I never actively sought her out to extend an apology. It’s not like I needed to prove to her that I’m a changed man, a good sub-alpha, or that I’m not as heartless as I must have appeared when I bullied her in front of the other wolves our age.
What does it matter what she thinks, anyway?
And why am I suddenly gripped by unwarranted guilt when I notice her shocked expression? I wipe the faint tingling in the tips of my fingers away on my lap when it threatens to fill me with an urge to feel anything at all.
I frown as I direct my gaze at Silas, brushing off the sudden protective instinct that kicks in seeing Rissa’s reaction to the news. Where is this feeling coming from?
I don’t want to feelanythingfor the omega, let alone pity that would compel me to offer her any form of comfort. I need to be entirely neutral about this whole thing. The situation with the demon dogs is bigger than Rissa or me when the safety of the pack is at stake.
The council’s idea to have us mate to bring out Rissa’s supposed magic is probably something well thought out before the announcement. They’ve never made decisions that weren’t right for the pack.
But that’s when it strikes me like a punch to my gut, finally making me turn my face toward Rissa and seeing just how pale she’d become.
Rissa Rudolph is a witch?
I had no idea.
And by the way her jaw dropped, it’s clear that she didn’t have a clue, either.
Is that why she’d been drawn toward herbal healing?
I shake my head to diffuse any thoughts that might lead me to getting too personally invested or becoming too intrigued by curiosity that will lead me nowhere. The council has just announced that we’re a part of a bigger picture, a small piece of the puzzle that will ensure the ultimate demise of the demonic spirits that haunt Alaska.
Feeling duty-bound, I nod curtly at the Elders as I straighten up. I’ve been able to push aside and ignore my emotions completely in the past, so I’m certain I can do it now, too.
“Very well, Elder Silas,” I say to Alpha Elias’s grandfather, who’s one of the main representatives of the council. I nod at the others too before continuing, “Omega Rissa and I will be mated by the end of the week.”
“Thank you for your cooperation in this, Alpha Brooks,” Elder Silas says to me. “Since you’re in charge of the ceremony and ritual schedules, you can decide on a date and discuss it with the other alphas. That is all for now.”
It’s a dismissal. The Elders probably want to continue their own private meeting between themselves, and I waste no time in getting to my feet while I mull over the fact that the alphas hid this from me.
Surely Elias knew about this before the Elders found out. And if Luna Yvonne was the one who had the vision, then Dawson would have known about this, too.
Although it feels as if I’d been deceived by my fellow alphas, I can only imagine that they’d kept this a secret from me because of Rissa.
Finding out that she’s a witch can’t be easy for her to wrap her head around. It’s probably why she appears so stiff and numb as she drags her feet out of the pack den ahead of me, keeping her head lowered as if she needs to calculate her next steps.
But those steps don’t stop once we’re outside; they increase in speed as she makes a beeline down the side of the pack den’s building.
“Rissa!” I call out, but to no avail. The omega continues marching ahead stiffly, quietly, as if she’s trying to run away.
Shaking my head and huffing my irritation, all it takes is a few strides with my longer legs to catch up to her. As soon as I’m behind her, I reach out and grab her shoulder, spinning her around without much effort. But instead of meeting those emerald eyes I haven’t seen in almost a decade, Rissa keeps her gaze lowered, as if in defiant refusal to look at my face.
She looks ridiculous, staring at my midriff with hooded eyes, and this gives me every reason to continue my pursuit of this mating bond as strictly business, a duty that must be fulfilled as the alpha. There’s no other reason why I’d want to be mated to Rissa Rudolph; she’s the lowly omega whose bloodline can be traced back to more worthless omegas of the original Blackmaw Pack.
The only reason I’m entertaining this idea is that there’s a high possibility that the healer will emerge as a witch, like the lunas before her, who were omegas themselves, and she’ll be a valuable asset in the fight against the demon.
“We need to discuss this mate bond thing,” I say awkwardly before clearing my throat.
The sound of my hesitation seems to draw Rissa’s attention as she slowly drags her eyes up, then cranes her neck to look up into my face.
I’d almost forgotten how tiny she is in front of me, but it’s not something I can dwell on when a different kind of reminder comes in the form of two glowing emeralds glaring at me with accusation under her dark brown brows that are almost lost to the tanned tint of her flesh.
