He finally looks at me, and when he chuckles it is dark and dangerous. And makes me feel better. “I heard she won’t be using that knee again.”
“She won’t be walking out of where she is either.”
He answers back quickly. “I’m glad to see your pack is not hiding the truth from you.”
“You’ll also appreciate then, thatmypack will be responsible for what eventually happens to her and the man who attacked me.”
“Of course.” He looks at Bailey again and is quiet for a few moments. When he swings his attention back to me, he wears a look that would make a lot of people cower, but I’ve seen that look intensified a thousand times over recently. “You lost something incredibly important to you. Not only was it a personal loss but a fundamental one, impacting your welfare and safety, Lennon. I can’t make up for that, but I can assure you both Koda and I will be available any time of the day or night to helpyou, in whatever capacity.”
I stare at him while I consider his offer. I know that Gabriel and Noah have already arranged with Pack Bailey everything we need, but this is different. “Okay.”
He nods and I think we’ve finished, but he hasn’t. “I do really want to be there when the woman is dealt with.”
“You said that already, but I’m sure it can be arranged,” I offer with a small smile. It should be fucking weird that we’re eating dinner and chatting about watching a person being put to death, but it’s not. If you come after an alpha or an omega, you have to be prepared to face the consequences—an eye for an eye is the only rule that applies in our society.
After Pack Bailey went at Pack Thomas in a rather swanky restaurant, I read an article written by a beta woman who suggested Pack Bailey’s retaliation was overkill. She went on to say alphas shooting others as a form of retribution without being held accountable was outlandish. I guess she missed the part where Pack Bailey and Pack Thomas filled out the required forms for the government citing it as a pack issue, where pack law takes precedence. And I loved how a comment online back to the journalist broke it down in layman’s terms—you want to dance, you have to pay the band.
Admittedly, it was my intention to change the song we’d be dancing to as a society, but at the same time I’m also a huge supporter of that vicious, eye for an eye mentality. Along with giving people a chance. One chance to redeem themselves or face the consequences. And the consequences I had lined up for a select group of people would be brutal.
A buzzer interrupts our conversation. And I’m not sure if I feel sick, relieved, or worried.
31
VALAK
The front security gate of Bailey House opens slowly, and even though the thing is made of only steel bars, as it slides back, her scent rushes out. Part of me is so fucking relieved I made it here and that she’s inside, but I can’t do a fucking thing to stop how close I am to going feral.
Lincoln’s next to me and wears a similar mask of thundering rage that needs soothing. I pity anyone that stands between us now.
We find the door unlocked and a part of me is aware it’s been left unsecured purposely, but it only adds to the level of wildness coursing through me. There’s a shuffle of movement behind us, and both Lincoln and I swing around, fingers fucking twitching on the trigger.
“It’s okay, Val. Don’t fucking shoot me. She’s okay.” My brother’s voice floats down the corridor, and I can feel his impatience to come closer. I know I need him as much as he needs me, but this tug in the centre of my chest takes me in the opposite direction, away from him.
Thankfully, he follows. Even this close, it’s like I can get air in my lungs again.
Kicking the door, because nothing is making much sense in my head besides a frantic, pulsing need, I stagger against the wall of her scent that slams into me. A heartbeat later, my newly acquired reason for living crash tackles into me.
Lennon dangles between both Lincoln and me. I’m shaking with relief, vibrating with fury. And I don’t miss Noah standing against the wall, watching us carefully, a gun in his hand. The sight should piss me off but all it does is soothe, knowing they’re as protective as I am.
She fights out of our hold on her, but as soon as her feet reach the ground, she’s back against me, holding Lincoln with her other arm. Her whole body is quaking, and she hasn’t looked up at me yet.
“I’m not angry with you,” I whisper against her hair, and hear Lincoln say something similar. But she locked up tight and doesn’t utter a word. “Talk to me, baby. I have to hear your voice if you won’t look at me,” I say, being careful to keep the monster at bay. My voice is off though, too deep and dipped in violence still.
Lennon might lose her voice, but I guess for some inexplicable reason I’ve always been able to read her like a book. Under her jasmine scent, I pick up on her colliding emotions. Grief, anger and distress, fear and relief, determination, and impatience; each adding a layer to her unique scent.
Lincoln isn’t as patient as I am. He buries his fist in her hair and tugs her head back so she has no choice but to look at him. Her eyes are wide, a little wild, but they stare into his, and a peaceful calm washes through her.
“Answer him, Pet. We’re both wound up a little too fucking tight. Talk to Valak,” he barks into her face before he slams his lips to hers.
It’s exactly what she needs because she comes alive.
She’s a ball of noise and desperation as she takes, and takes from Lincoln. Her whole body heaving like she’s run a marathon, and when she pulls back a bit, she smirks like a little demon.
Lincoln spins her so she’s looking at me and then steers her straight into my chest where she climbs me like you would a tree. My fucking ribs scream when her thigh presses, but the blast of pain is so worth it.
“Easy, dove, Valak is injured,” he says, his hands running up her arms so he’s basically hugging me the same way she is.
“How bad?” She growls at me. A mask of fury dropping over her stunning face, enhancing her petite features.
