“It takes a long time to master a sword.”
“Definitely. Do you have sword training?” Not that it really mattered; fighting with swords—especially specialty swords, like our butterflies—was a dying art, for anyone who wasn’t fighting supernaturals. Nothing beat a sword, because beheading was the great equalizer among most species. But still, I was curious. I knew so little about him, besides the little bits and pieces I’d snooped.
“Nothing official, no. But my father was a hobbyist, and he taught me everything he knew. Plus, it’s good exercise. A nice way to burn off extra alpha energy when there’s no sparring partner available. I’m pretty good with a sword because I had a lot of energy to burn.”
Interesting.
“Did you have a hard time controlling your wolf when you first shifted?” I leaned forward, putting my elbows on the counter and my chin in my hands. For some reason, this conversation felt important.
He went stone-still, then turned to a nearby wedge of Parmigiano Reggiano and picked up a fancy grater I didn’t know the name of.
His hands worked smoothly, contemplatively, before he spoke.
“I was a late bloomer. Half the pack was convinced I was a dud, that I’d never shift. The other half thought I’d be more powerful for the waiting.”
I eyed the muscular, dominant man across from me and knew which half of the pack had won.
“How old were you when it finally happened? I was thirteen. Right before heading to the enclave.” I ignored the pang of sadness that thought caused in favor of focusing on Valens.
“Seventeen.”
The word hung heavily between us. It only took me a moment to make the connection, and I gasped.
“When your parents died?”
Goddess, how awful.
He nodded, tapping the grater on the bowl before setting it aside and pulling out simple white ceramic plates. “Football practice had just ended. The elder Varga was still the pack Alpha, and he was waiting outside the field with this look on his face I’ll never forget.” He shook his head, and I could tell he was far away—living in the memory, not in the moment with me.
I darted a hand across the counter, capturing his fingers with mine on pure instinct. “It’s okay. You don’t have to relive a painful memory, I just?—”
He squeezed my fingers, smiling softly as he met my eyes. “It’s okay. You should know.” He shuddered, obviously battling demons as he told the rest of the story.
“He drove me out to an overlook a few miles away. It was right on the edge of pack lands, a safe distance from the school. It’s quite pretty. I should take you one day.”
I bit my bottom lip, not wanting to interrupt.
“He told me my parents had died. My father was in an accident, and because they were bonded, my mother died along with him. Savannah didn’t know yet, and he wanted to know if I wanted to tell her myself, as the new leader of the family, or if I wanted him to take care of it.”
His eyes began to glow turquoise, his wolf’s strength showing up now when he needed it, just as he had then.
“I felt so lost. Like I was drowning on a sunny afternoon on dry land. His gaze just burned into me, and I could almostfeelthe disappointment rolling off him, like I was failing some kind of test by staying silent. And then my hands started to shake, and power ripped me apart from the inside out.”
“That sounds terrible. I’m so sorry,” I murmured, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand.
He shook his head, leaning in closer. “Don’t be sorry. It was the best damn thing that could have happened to me. Because my wolf was strong, strong enough to get me through and carve a safe place in a brutal pack for my sister and me. My wolf and I have a close bond, because he was there when I felt alone.”
Damn.
“Most people would have fallen apart in that situation, but you just got stronger. It’s impressive.”
He laughed bitterly. “Not all strength comes by choice. Some of it’s just survival.” With that, the story was over, and he dished up two heaping plates of delicious food. The lasagna was the centerpiece, but he’d also made a lovely salad, garlic knots, and even tiramisu for dessert.
But while I watched him plate the feast, my brain whirred with all the new tidbits I’d learned about him. I had a new, even deeper respect for how quickly he’d had to grow up. It made a lot of our interactions so much clearer.
He didn’t push me even when I tried to keep him at a distance, didn’t flaunt his strength or try to force anything between us. His strength wasn’t a point of pride; it was a point ofnecessity. And he used it selflessly for every member of his pack, not for himself.
Valens was a protector.
