Damian
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Careful not to wakeher, I brace a hand on the back of the couch and kiss Sabrina’s cheek on my way through the living room. She’s currently snuggled up with Boden, using the beta as a bed for her power nap, and I’m honestly surprised he got her to walk away at all. She and Reid have been glued to their computers now that there’s only six days left and their coworker quit on them. If those dark circles under her eyes are anything to go by, she’s been skipping the breaks she agreed to as soon as our backs are turned.
Keeping his voice a hushed murmur, Bo confirms as much. “Honor system was a bust. Went to check on her and she’d stashed her laptop under her pillow; hopped on the minute I was out of earshot.”
Sighing in exasperation, I shake my head. “She takes the term ‘going to work yourself to death’ like a literal challenge. I can’t wait for this to be over and done with.”
Bo makes a soft grunt of agreement, tucking the throw blanket tighter around her. “Right there with you.”
We fall into silence that gives our collective worries ample room to spread, both of us staring down at her for a minute. That’s all that I give us; one minute to second guess going through with her plan. There are a million ways it could go wrong, and it goes against all of my instincts to put her directly in the line of fire. But if I’m going to bet the lives of my pack on her, I need to believe that she knows what she’s doing, to believe inher.
“It’s a solid plan,” I assure him. “We’ll keep her safe, and she’s capable of more than either of us know.” He nods, but there’s still doubt in his eyes as he gazes down at her. “Hey.” Waiting until he looks my way, I speak with conviction. “Keep your head in the game. If you’re distracted, people are going to get killed. You do what you do best, beta; whatever she needs you to.”
Determination overtakes his features, and I tip my head respectfully before leaving the room. We all have our parts to play in this, but if we’re busy hovering over her when the moment comes, we’ll ruin everything we’ve been working toward. I meant what I said; it’s a good plan, but it hinges on everyone sticking to it.
Wandering the hallways, I extend my hearing, seeking out Hunter. These past couple of weeks, I’ve played around with how to cope with being in a constant state of heightened senses, but it’s still a work in progress. For the most part, though, I can tune things out into background noise, actively choosing when to hone in on something. So now that I’m listening for him, it’s easy enough to narrow down where in the house he’s at.
Not like he’s making it difficult with the way he’s laying into Slade.
A few minutes later, I’m pushing open the door to his personal study. Slade’s sipping a glass of scotch in his seat behind his desk, but there’s something lifeless in his eyes that makes me pause. This isn’t the stoic mask he wears like a second skin, he looks... numb. Defeated. He doesn’t seem to even be listening to Hunter’s tirade, or care at all, really.
“This is insane, how do you not see that!” Hunter slaps his palm on the desk before shoving away from it, proceeding to pace. His hair is wild, as if he’s run his fingers through it several times already in his frustration.
Slade’s tone is as devoid of emotion as his face. “Lands don't matter if there's no one alive to inhabit them. We can rebuild if necessary, anywhere we choose.” A small bit of pain sparks to life in his eyes before his expression shutters. “Enough people have died fighting over this patch of dirt and clinging to the legacy built upon it.”
Hunter’s snarl reverberates around the room, more animal than man, and I close the door behind me before he gets any louder. And as pissed off as he is? It’s pretty much guaranteed to happen. Nothing ruffles Hunter’s feathers more than a lack of reaction, highlighting that he’s the only one losing control, which only makes him more upset.
“You're running like a damn coward,” he spits.
Like a flip was switched, Slade snaps. Shoving to his feet, his chair crashes to the ground as he braces his hands on the desk. “I'm accepting that she'll never be safe here, so you should be fucking thrilled! It's what you came here to prove, isn’t it?”
A second later, he whips his arm forward, glass shattering against the wall a few inches from Hunter’s head. One of the shards slices a line through his cheek, the sharp tang of alcohol and blood filling the room. Rather than launch himself at Slade, weirdly enough, some of the tension leaves his muscles, as if he’s relieved.
Taking a few breaths, Slade attempts to center himself, shaken up by his violent reaction. “But I can set aside my pride if it means keeping my family safe, and it was the only way that Thatcher would agree. I'm not going to subject my mate to always having to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life because these people hate my family enough that they very well might actually kill her simply to spite us. Sabrina mated into a legacy that’s better off dead.”
Foreboding snakes down my spine.
Slade shakes his head, picking his chair up off of the ground. “So let them have the property and think that they won, that they broke us down and scared us off. They can turn our family name into even more of a mockery of what it once was than they already have. It doesn't matter; none of it matters if it means everyone is miserable all of the time."
Glancing at the mess across the room, he sighs, giving up on trying to piece anything back together and striding my way, shutting down more with every additional step. "I'm tired. Tired of all of the games, of the constant pissing contests. So call me a coward if you want, Hunter, I really just... don't care anymore. The Hawthorne line is officially dead, long live Pack Kincaid. I’m done,it’sdone, so your bitching about it is pointless.” Shock renders me speechless as I move out of his way so that he can open the door. Flinging a hand out to gesture at me without looking back, Slade says, “Take your problems to him from now on; I’m going for a run.”
The door clicks shut behind him, the silence left in his wake absolutely deafening. Hunter recovers first, turning his aggression my way. “You knew about this?”
“Not a damn clue.” Scrubbing a hand down my face as I process the implications, I sigh. “I suppose it makes everything easier in the long run, at least. We don’t need to convince her to stay if she doesn’t have this place to come back to.” Cocking my head, I scan his face, but don’t find the answer I’m searching for. “Why is it pissing you off so much? We came here prepared to kill them before everything spiraled out of control, and it’ll put them all exactly where we want them.”
He gives me a noncommittal grunt. Heading for the desk, he hops up to sit on it, reaching for the abandoned decanter and taking a swig. “He’s giving up. What type of alpha does that? Then add in all of this bullshit with the nerdy twin.” Taking another drink first, he growls, the glass groaning under his tightening grip. “None of them are fighting for her hard enough. If they’re willing to go belly up now, they’ll only be in our way. We should go back to plan A and leave them behind.”
Closing the distance between us, I pluck the bottle out of his hand with a pointed look. “Give them a little more credit than that. By not having to manage everything anymore, Slade will be able to fully concentrate his energy on Sabrina. He won’t be overextended, which makes himmoreuseful because we’ll have an alpha with all of the freedom of a rankless wolf. Reid?” Wavering my head back and forth as I consider it, I settle on, “Eh, I could take him or leave him, honestly. He’s pissing me off, too. Could be one hell of an asset, though, if he can get his shit together. Look at the things he’s managed to dig upwhilebuilding that system with Sabrina, so may not want to write him off completely quite yet.”
Clapping his shoulder, I head for the door. “Now come on. We’ve got to get going, or we’ll miss our window of opportunity.”
***
Best part of beingoutsiders? The fact that anyone outside of those at the Hawthorne’s house when we arrived doesn't recognize us. We can hide in plain sight so long as Kaige and I wear sunglasses to conceal our unusual eye colors.
Sipping my water as the heavy bass assaults my eardrums, I subtly take another picture of the Aldervale alpha doing a line of coke off of a stripper’s stomach. Not a fine look for someone sitting on the Shadow Ridge City Council.
