Well, fuck. Could I blame him?
Six months ago, he hadn’t known a damn thing about magic. Now, he’d not only discovered that he was a mage, but he’d seen some of the worst that it could bring.
He’d almost died, but he hadn’t been as aware of everything that’d happened as I had. He’d felt it, sure, but he hadn’t seen himself there, struggling to breathe around burns. He hadn’t held him, terrified that’d be the last time.
Even everything he’d been through wasn’t the same thing as watching someone suffer with their stomach torn open, certain they’d die and knowing the world and all the magic within it would allow for this to happen.
I’d left him in the middle of a nightmare to figure out magic that was new to him, and a spike of pain jammed its way through my chest. I shouldn’t have gone looking for Reeve.
Dakota felt it too. He had to.
His brow furrowed, and he tipped his head to the side, frowning as he approached. His fingers curled lightly around my wrist, brushing up the thin skin inside my arm.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. With so many pack members wandering around, there wasn’t any real chance of privacy. I also—well, if I couldn’t be honest with my mate and my pack, who could I rely on?
Normally, I wouldn’t have hesitated to lean on them, but this was different. Cash had nearly died. Everyone was on edge.
I had to be all right.
And since we were mated, there was no way for me to convince Dakota that I was all right when I wasn’t.
Still, I forced a little smile and spread my fingers. His palm slipped against mine, and I squeezed his hand briefly.
“I’m okay,” I said. It was an absolute lie, but right then, it was necessary, and Dakota seemed to think so too.
His lips twisted and he nodded, and I was so fucking grateful he didn’t call me on my shit, but already, I was thinking about the sun going down and resting my head on his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat while he scratched his fingernails through my hair.
I’d tell him about Cash—the pack we’d come from and the alpha I’d beaten to bring us here.
I’d admit to him that I’d left my friend behind, too unsure of myself to encourage him to come with us. I’d tell him that this was all my fault.
I’d even try to believe it when he told me it wasn’t. I didn’t think it’d work, but if anyone could convince me that I wasn’t the worst fucking alpha to ever carry the title, it was Dakota.
At the very least, it’d be nice to hear it from someone who was certain I wasn’t a total fucking monster.
“What about you?”
Dakota tipped his head to the side and shrugged. “I’m okay. I’m—I’m glad your friend woke up, even if it was just for a second.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Thank you. Both of you?—”
When I caught Prudence’s eye, she nodded. “Of course. Cash should be able to take over from here.”
Finally, I looked at him—not the mess of him, the horror of his wounds hidden beneath the blanket someone had draped over him. They’d cleaned him up, and while he still looked pale and generally unwell, he was sleeping peacefully.
I let go of Dakota’s hand to pull up a chair at Cash’s bedside.
If he was asking for me, I’d be there. I couldn’t go back and change all the ways I’d fucked up when we were kids, or make any of it better, but I could be there for him now.
For the first time, I let myself really look at Cash.
He’d been a couple of years younger than Seth and me when we’d left, and even now, he had a smoothness to his cheeks that struck me as unreasonably innocent, for the things he’d seen.
The things I knew he’d seen, really.
Reeve was a piece of shit. The pack we’d come from was brutal.
The evidence that nothing had changed was right before me.
