"Eliano did the best thing he could. For an alpha, a partner’s safety will always come first. Revenge will always come second. He acted according to his instincts."
Evan nods in agreement.
"He was afraid of losing you. That shows how committed he was to you. You have to understand that his loyalty is first to you and your safety, not to your dead brother, even if that brother means everything to you."
A fierce surge of anger rises in me. Why are they defending him? They don’t understand a thing.
"You have no idea what my relationship with my brother was like! How much he meant to me. What he sacrificed for me. And his murderer is still walking free…"
"You are right, we do not know," Bashir says. "But as alphas, we see things differently. Our priorities come from our nature. Eliano simply could not have acted any other way."
"I think he could have," I snap. "He could have helped me, for example!"
"And then what? What future would you two have had?" Bashir replies sharply. "No future at all. That is not how alphas think, Salt. Caring for a partner’s safety is hardwired into us. It is not something you can just turn off easily. And Eliano is twenty! His instincts are even stronger."
Part of me is already gearing up for round two of my speech about how they should mind their own fucking business. But another part, the one that kind of agrees with Eliano’s approach, knows that the whole plan was basically a self-destructive mission and that it could have ended with me dead, or with both of us as outlaws and fugitives. That voice is quieter, but it’s there.
Salt, think about what they are saying. There is something to it.
In any case, I wouldn’t be myself without throwing in a little attitude. So I stand up with a sassy scowl and make a point of walking away from their table.
They need to understand that they don’t get to dictate how I live my life.
To be fair, my sulking doesn’t last long.
By the very next day, I’m back at their table, acting like nothing happened. Bashir and Evan take it in stride, classic alphas who don’t overthink emotional flare-ups. Fred and Roman, however, exchange faintly amused looks. Whatever, assholes. I can live with that.
The third week feels like the next stage of purgatory.
I have already gone through threestages of griefover my situation: denial, anger, bargaining. Now it is time for depression. Will acceptance come after that?
Yep, so I lie on my bed and sob.
Just sob!
I guess this is how my mind is trying to cope with what happened. That I’ll never get revenge on Tanner. No matter how badly I want it, there’s not much I can do anymore. Escape isn’t realistic. But what really gets me is that, on top of everything, I pushed Eliano away and ruined my chance at a great relationship.
That fucking, proud bastard.
I remember what he said, so vividly…
"I never beg!"
I scream out these words and throw the pillow across the room.
"You should beg, asshole! You should be back on your knees!"
Then I pant for a few minutes and numbly stare at the first page of the album Hugh prepared for us.
Eliano ripped out one of the pictures, but the rest is here. I fix my eyes on one where Eliano and I are sitting on the sand, his hand draped over my shoulder.
The fucker!
These two things sway in my mind like a seesaw: "I have no revenge" and "I have no Eliano," tipping first one way, then the other. But after a while, the side with Eliano begins to weigh heavier, and that only deepens my despair.
Whenever I close my eyes, I can feel his relentless kisses. Oh, how often he gave them, and how much I loved it, even though I would never admit it. His soft, warm lips, the tender energy… Fuck!
All lost, ruined!
