“And sacrificed spending the day with her in favor of assessing our situation with the surrounding families to ensure that she was safe enough to finish our work since he knew it was important to her rather than push for her to make the trip immediately. Add in the fact he woke up Slade and Cin after Sabrina’s wolf appeared when he didn’t have to and was already weak. All signs point to him being a decent guy, just one that wants to take Sabrina away from us.”
Bo rocks back in his chair until I’m worried he’s going to tip over, a scowl plastered on his face. “I’ve looked enough evil bastards in the eye to recognize one by now, and as much as it pains me to admit, he’s not one of them. Done some shit, sure, but which of us hasn’t?”
The silence is deafening as I realize even I’m included in that sentiment now. Sure, the guy I killed was in self-defense, and I don’t regret it for an instant, but Bo’s right. We all have blood on our hands, and can’t be so quick to condemn people whose intentions are in the right place.
Good people do terrible things for good reasons, and terrible people do good things, even if it’s for selfish ones. There really is no good or evil if you think about it. We’re always one choice away from tipping our cosmic scale to one side to proclaim our soul’s status to the world, and who's to say anyone’s even keeping track of our sins? If it’s done for the right reasons, is it even wrong in the first place?
Goodbye moral compass, hello wolf demon that wants to corrupt every man she sinks her claws into.
“So, we’re good with me boning Damian, onto the next topic.” It’s easier this way, if I don’t let myself take any of it to heart when there’s already less room in it than there used to be; and I wasn’t a very empathetic person to begin with. “Onto mutant wolves.”
Reid and Cin simultaneously settle a hand on the top of my thighs, squeezing once reassuringly before leaving them there. I’m not sure how they expect that to be a comfort instead of a distraction, but I’m already leaning towards the latter.
“It’s obvious, right?” We all turn to Cin, who’s grinning like a fool, and I mentally groan in advance for whatever cheesy line he’s drummed up. “Sabrina is our ray of sunshine, and she burns so brightly that it casts deeper shadows, hence the harem of vicious wolves. She’s too sweet, so she needs fierce protectors.”
I’m not the only one rolling my eyes, and the others don’t even deign to acknowledge his comment, Slade taking over the conversation. “As Damian was freeing Sabrina’s wolf, he said it felt like there was an acidic layer throughout her body keeping it sick to the point all she could do was keep herself alive, hence why Sabrina appeared human.” Strumming his fingers on the table, he doesn’t bother with the stoic mask he typically hides behind, showing us his unease for a change. “So we can reasonably assume Noah Laroque really was her father since she’s such an anomaly. Humans weren’t made to be infected by people like us.”
My lips are pressed into a grim line, as Cinjin asks quietly, “So onto why you told me it wasn’t my time yet.”
Secrets only breed contempt, so while I don’twantto admit the thoughts that crossed my mind last night, I respect the men around me enough to tell them the truth. Even if all I have are theories that might bring them more pain.
“Keep in mind the other me, that we shall fondly refer to as Sabrina 2.0, was the one in the driver’s seat most of last night. But from my vantage point as she was rooting around in your innards, there was something... unsettling about your other half. Different from the others. It felt like he had an ulterior motive, as if escaping his cage was a necessary step to achieve whatever he was really after. And since she knew she was already going to have her hands full with the other three, she wasn’t willing to risk setting him loose.”
Ominous silence surrounds us, thick and oppressive. In a last-ditch effort, I take a stab at levity that I don’t really feel. “Really, though, are we surprised that Cinjin’s wolf would be up to no good? The man’s a flirt with arsonistic tendencies, so I can only imagine the sort of trouble his alter ego could get into. Might have to leave you guys home to fend for yourselves while I take him on a walk one-on-one to keep him from eating the neighbors.”
His fingers tighten on my thigh, and I might be crazy -okay, definitely am a little crazy- but his voice sounds rough when he speaks, like he’s choking on emotion he refuses to show and ruin his image. “Clearly my plan is working to get you all to myself like the nefarious heathen that I am.”
“Obviously.” I squeeze his thigh beneath the table in turn, attempting to convey... I’m not even sure, really. That I’m scared too?
But that damned inner voice, my killer instinct with psychopathic inclinations, stirs in response to his unease, and a wave of calm rushes over me. Using the contact, the feeling spreads into Cinjin, and after a brief moment where he stiffens, he quickly relaxes into my touch.
I love that I can help ease his worries, but I despise the way it feels like I’m manipulating him. Frankly, it makes me feel slimy and disgusting, as if I were spiking his drink before taking advantage of him. Meeting Slade’s eye, I send him a pleading look, hoping he can read all of the thoughts on my face that I can’t bring myself to voice aloud, to ease some of the painful chaos eating away at me.
A flash of sympathy crosses his features before he’s rising from his chair, rounding the table. Helping me from my seat first, he hops up on the conference table, pulling me onto his lap. I keep Cinjin’s hand in mine, close my eyes, and lean against Slade’s chest for a moment, syncing my rapidly beating heart to his steady one. Each breath takes a little of the tension from my shoulders, and after only a slight hesitation, Slade uses his abilities to help settle my nerves the rest of the way when it becomes clear that I’m struggling to achieve that state on my own.
“Don’t think of it as manipulating him,” he murmurs in my ear, but by the way he shifts in his seat, I’m assuming Cin overheard. “Think of it as helping. You’re easing his distress, which is separate from easing the burdens he bears, absorbing them as your own. Don’t take on those burdens unless you’re willing toaccept them, because they can destroy you if you aren’t careful.
“Us alphas were created to bear the weight of sins that aren’t our own, a stronger breed than anyone knows, but each affliction that we take in leaves yet another scar that will never fully heal. We do it because no one else can, not necessarily because we want to. It’s a sacrifice that fucking hurts, Sabrina. One that takes a toll and always leaves me one step away from wanting to bring the toaster with me into the bathtub.”
My eyelids fly open at the admission, but I selfishly lean closer into his embrace, hating myself all the more for it. He’s sitting here comforting me, confessing that doing so for countless people makes him contemplate offing himself, and I still soak up his comfort like he’s a drug that I can’t shake my addiction to. It’s selfish, cruel of me, but it feels sorightto share my pain with him, as if no one else could understand what I’m struggling with besides him. I may be some mythical female alpha, but I don’t consider myself as such; Slade or Damian as men I should defer to, either.
It feels more like we’re a trio of parents desperately trying to keep our reckless children alive while they insist on diving headfirst into danger while we’re helpless to stop them, only there to patch their wounds when they come home broken and bleeding.
Deep breaths, Sabrina, one step at a time. It’s not a bad thing to let someone help you. Even if they were to all drop dead this very second, we could figure shit out. I’m not helpless, but there’s no shame in accepting some help now and again, nor in giving it.
Fuck you, Mom, and the pessimistic thoughts you bored into my skull that make me second guess every single thing that has the potential to make me happy even after all of these years.
“I don't know what I’m doing, and I’m afraid of messing up,” I whisper, the admission akin to chewing glass.
Yet Bo’s the one that answers, sitting beside us and plucking me off of Slade’s lap. I let him envelope me, making me feel so small despite the acute awareness that he isn’t a threat, not sure where to put that instinctive thought in my head quite yet.
“Pretty girl, you can mess up left and right and we’ll still be right here by your side,” he states with far more confidence than I feel. “One day you’ll realize exactly how much you mean to us, but until then, we’ll take great pleasure in trying to convince you. So suck a few of us dry, tell Cinjin’s bitchass that he isn’t ready to shift, and taunt him until your heart’s content.” He tightens his hold until his pine and sandalwood scent infuses all of my senses, his proximity canceling out everything outside of the safety of his arms. “Just be ours, okay? Everything else will fall into place as it’s meant to.”
Goddamnit, Bo. You sweet fucking giant, taking the wind out of my sails.
“So,” I croak, ticking off on my fingers. “We’ve tackled the Damian debacle, my messed-up heritage turning you into shadow monsters that will scare the fuck out of your enemies so you’re all thrilled instead of upset, and Cin being a sneaky bastard, so what’s next?”
Slade crowds me, Bo’s chest leaving me no way to retreat as he kisses my cheek, my jaw, working his way up to the shell of my ear, bolder with his affection than I’m used to, but definitely not hating the development. “Helping you come to terms with your other half.”
