His chest heaves.
"What do you want from me, Drake?" Rough. Scraped raw.
My chest constricts.
"I don't know," I say. "I don't know what I want anymore."
He looks confused. "What does that mean?"
"I love you." From somewhere deep and true. "I love Eli. I love this pack. But I can't—"
My throat closes.
"I'm leaving."
He freezes.
"What?"
"I can't stay under your lead. Not when I don't trust where you're taking us. Not anymore."
"You're pack." Desperate.
"I know what I was."
His face twists. "I need you. We're brothers."
"Where was that need when Vee was hurting and I wanted to go to her but you wouldn't let me?"
He winces.
"You want me to stay because the pack is falling apart and you need someone to hold it together. But I'm done being that. The hope has gone out of me, Ragon."
He’s silent for a minute, absorbing.
Then dominance hits me like a wall.
It rises off him in waves—pine smoke flooding the room, filling my lungs, pressing down with physical force. The weight of pack hierarchy asserting itself. Every instinct I have screams to submit, to bow, to accept my place beneath it.
Not today.
I shove him.
Hard. Both palms to his chest. He stumbles backward, genuine shock crossing his face before his back hits the wall. In all the years together I've never done that. Not once.
The shock lasts a second, then he comes back.
His fist catches my jaw with a crack. Pain explodes, bright and sharp. Blood floods my mouth.
I swing back. My knuckles find his cheekbone and skin splits. He drives his elbow into my ribs and the air leaves me. My fist connects with his lip and I feel the give of it.
He hits my nose. The crack comes before the pain, and then the blood.
We're both breathing hard, both bleeding. It's not a real fight—we're not trained for this, have no idea how to hurt each other efficiently. It's two men who love each other destroying something irreparable, and it goes on until neither of us has anything left to say with our hands.
I step back, breathing hard.
Eli is in the doorway with his arms crossed and face blank. He’s watching his pack come apart and not moving to stop it. He knows it needs to happen.
