Page 32 of Dual Nature

As I struggled to keep from being overwhelmed by Craig's emotions, I focused in on them more. I wanted to understand so I could find a way to help him, and if I could almost zero in on one of those feelings and trace it deeper, maybe I could do that.

Lane's eyes narrowed as he looked over at the man then back down to me. "No, all I feel is anger directed at you."

"Then you're going to need to trust me. This is what omegas do, right? Heal and nurture the pack…"

A low growl rumbled in Lane's chest, but he slowly set me down, then he yanked his t-shirt off and slipped it over my head. "If he tries to hurt you, there is nothing on this Earth that will save him from our wrath."

I nodded and slowly walked up to Elias. He was still standing on Craig's chest, keeping the irate man trapped. Running my hand over Elias's back, he stopped growling. He looked up at me questioningly before turning to Colt.

"What are you doing, Finley?!" Colt demanded, stepping forward, but Lane grabbed his arm, earning his attention. “I know what she wants, but it doesn't mean it’s safe. Her need to heal is blinding her to danger.”

Flinching at his disapproval, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my own emotions so that I could withstand the ones I was receiving from others. "I'm this pack's omega, and he needs my help. Let me try, Colt."

Lane whispered something to Colt, but I was too focused on the man shooting hatred at me out of his eyes. I knelt down next to him, placing my hand on his arm, and I was promptly bombarded with his rage. Gasping, I dropped my head, trying to not let his feelings become my own. I might not love myself at the moment, but I certainly didn't want to die rather than live as a werewolf.

"Why so much hate?" I whispered to Craig, keeping my eyes closed to focus.

Not really understanding what I was trying to do, I leaned on my instincts. I pushed past the self-loathing and tried to find the root emotion fueling this hatred. There had to be a moment when or after he was changed that had made him feel this way. Once I found it, I would know how to fix it.

"You’re alive, and even though you don't have your company anymore, you still have so much to offer this pack. I understand having everything taken from you in the blink of an eye; my whole life was ripped away from me in seconds. But I’m choosing to learn and make the most of this life I know I have to live." Finally catching on to the root problem, I opened my eyes and met his gaze. "Who are you truly mad at?"

Tears pooled in the man's eyes as he tried to shake off my hold on him. "Get away from me, you bitch. I don't need anything from the likes of you!" With that statement, he spat in my face, and in the next moment, I was covered in blood after Elias tore out his throat.

Sitting back on my heels, I watched the life drain out of Craig. There was still one emotion left to catch. In that last moment, with his final breath, I got one fleeting emotion—relief.

"Does anyone know his story?" I asked, looking up at the others.

They were all gathered around, looking at me as if I might start screaming or burst into tears. Didn’t they understand that death meant nothing to me other than a job well done?

"That's what you want to ask?" Mason blurted out with a bark of laughter. "God, this woman is unlike any other."

Cocking my head to the side, I frowned. "Why wouldn't I ask that?"

"Oh, I don't know, snuggles, maybe because you're covered in this dick’s blood, still kneeling next to his corpse like that’s a typical Wednesday afternoon," Mason pointed out. "Any other woman would be screaming their head off or sobbing their eyes out."

"This isn’t my first time seeing death…" I stated, unsure if they’d forgotten.

Turning back to the body, I closed Craig's eyes and stood, using the bottom of the t-shirt to wipe my face clean of blood. Catching the sound of a gasp, I whirled around and found a large group of people looking horrified to see me. Well, this isn't how I pictured meeting the rest of the pack. Lane pulled himself together first and stepped out in front of me as Noah grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the house.

"Everything is fine. Unfortunately, Craig crossed a line that gave us no choice but to end his life," Lane addressed. "As one of this pack’s alphas, it is my job to keep everyone safe, and in some cases, that leads to a tragic event such as this. The pack meal will still happen tonight, and it's even more important to attend so that situations like this don't happen again. Trust in us and return to your duties." The crowd all murmured to themselves, but they did as was asked of them and wandered back to wherever they had come from.

Noah led me through the house and up the stairs, but instead of going to the room I’d been given, he entered a different one that smelled of fresh evergreen. Colt. While this house wasn't nearly as opulent as Zander's, it still had a feel to it that I liked. It emanated safety and warmth, like it was made to have people bustling around in it. Noah turned on the shower and pulled Lane's shirt off of me before ushering me in and closing the glass door after me.

"Get cleaned up while I grab you some clothes," Noah instructed as he slipped out of the bathroom.

I got the feeling that the guys didn't believe me when I said that I was fine, but that was a lesson they’d have to learn in their own time. Death was just another part of my job, so it was hard to freak out over it. Who would hire an assassin that broke down at the sight of a fresh kill? I couldn’t even count the number of people who had died under my own hand or in my arms. Those assassins who carried their victims with them didn't last long in the business. They usually ended up killing themselves, unable to deal with the weight of it all.

The only kill that I remembered was my first one, but that wasn’t unusual. At that point, most of us were only partly numb. It wasn’t until the horror of that first death that you truly understood why you needed to disconnect your feelings from the job.

It happened the year I turned sixteen. I wasn't even supposed to be doing anything but observing a veteran assassin, but the job had gone south when the wife of our hit was home instead out like she should’ve been. I acted without thinking, knowing that we couldn't leave any witnesses. She didn't even know I was there when she got out of her bed to investigate the noise coming from her husband's study. There I was, lurking in the shadows as she gasped at the sight of her husband being strangled to death. Before she could bolt down the hall to the upstairs landline, I slit her throat. From that point on, I was one of the youngest trainees to be let out into the field. The Organization had seen no point in holding me back when I'd managed my first kill, clean and by the book.

Noah’s return to the bathroom pulled me out of my head, and I realized I’d just been lingering under the hot water. Wringing out my hair, I stepped out, expecting Noah to hand me the towel, but instead, he proceeded to dry me himself.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Noah asked as he bent down to dry off my legs.

"Will you believe me if I tell you that I’m totally fine?" I countered.

He looked up at me seriously, contemplating his answer. "There are moments like this one that you’re extremely hard to read. Having a stronger ability to gauge people’s responses, I'm not used to dealing with something like that. Since you've shifted, you show a lot more emotion… but still less than most. Right now, you’re a blank slate, giving me nothing to work off of to understand how you're doing."