Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
“His wolf is cool with me.” It’s a stupid thing to claim, and I only say it to cover how stupid I feel.
“You’ve met his wolf in your human form?” Abertha’s eyebrows rise.
My face burns. That’s what I get for bragging that I have some kind of special connection with the mate who I hadn’t spent more than a half hour with before we were kidnapped.
“No,” I admit.
“But your wolf has met him?”
I nod.
Abertha sinks back in her chair, speculation in her eyes. “What did he do?”
“Gave me a human’s head.”
She bursts out in a cackle. “Well, that’s an auspicious beginning.” She sobers. “I wish I knew how to fix a broken wolf, but I don’t. I do know it’s foolish to think love will do it. Or wishful thinking.” She leans forward and seizes my gaze, her brief amusement gone, replaced by a hardness that sends shivers down my spine. “Don’t go near his wolf in your human skin. If his wolf kills you, he won’t survive it. Do you understand?”
I jerk a nod. I wish she would leave. I get it. She knows him. She knows his past. I don’t. He might have claimed me, but he can never be a real mate to me.
We went through hell together, and it won’t change anything. Our mating was made impossible years before I was even born.
When I don’t say anything, Abertha collects herself, rising from her chair, smoothing her skirt.
“I’ll tell him you’re feeling better. You didn’t want the healing,” she says.
I stare past her at the empty beds, lost in misery, feeling all the burns and scrapes. Abertha’s almost to the door when a question pops into my head out of nowhere.
“Hey,” I call after her. “In the basement, did his wolf kill all the females except his sister?”
Abertha stops, and for a second, I think she doesn’t want to tell me, that she might dodge the question, but then she firms her jaw and says, “None of the females died from their wounds. His wolf took out four of Declan’s lieutenants, though. It was sheer luck that none of the females were lost.”
There’s no doubt in her voice.
She sweeps out of the infirmary, and the air lightens. Kennedy, Annie, and Una hustle back in, trailed by Old Noreen and Rowan and a few other females.
I let Annie fuss over me, dabbing at the caked-on blood in my curls with a warm washcloth, promising that she’ll get it all out when we get home.
The females chatter in low tones, and my mind drifts.
Abertha is so confident, such an immense presence, that when she speaks, I believe her to my bones. But now that she’s gone, and my nerves are settling down, and I really think about what she said—
There is a whole lot of stuff she doesn’t know—like how to fix a broken wolf. What magic allowed Darragh to shift so young. What exactly is wrong with his wolf. Whether she should meddle or not.
Maybe she shouldn’t.
Maybe she knows more about Darragh than I do, but Fate gave him to me.
Even if he isn’t here.
Even if my heart breaks for what he was turned into before I was even born.
Chapter 13
13
Chapter 13
DARRAGH
I stare at the infirmary door from the porch of the purser’s office across the way. Females murmur amongst themselves in undertones on the lawn, clustered in front of the building where Mari’s resting. They show no signs of dispersing.
Part of me wants to get the fuck out of here.
My skin crawls when I’m this close to so many packmates. My wolf prowls the edge of the border between us, growling menacingly at the back of my throat. The females cast me anxious looks and shuffle closer to each other, but they don’t leave their self-appointed stations.
I’m exhausted. If the wolf fights me for our skin, I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll win, and I swore years ago that I’d never risk it. I should leave, but I don’t.
Mari’s here, and she needs water and medicine. I can give her that, but she needs her packmates. She needs that comfort. I taught myself not to need the pack years ago, but I remember it. The illusion of safety. Belonging.
I want to be back in my own territory. Fuck talking to the human government and waiting to “liaison” with the other packs like Killian wants. If I can get back to where they held us, I can track the fuckers. End them.
Do something.
I start for the path, but the second I make a move, Killian emerges around the corner from the direction of the lodge. He looks like I feel, but at least he’s clean. I still have dried human viscera all over me, stuck in my hair, my ears. Well, it’s mostly human viscera. My lips peel back from my teeth as Killian saunters over, and he reads the expression correctly as a smile.
“You look like shit,” he says.
I grunt.
“Go get a shower. I’ll hang out here for a bit.”
Instantly, the urge to bail is replaced by an unshakable determination to stay right fucking here. I cross my arms.
Killian shrugs. “Suit yourself, but I’m standing downwind. You smell worse than you look.” He circles to stand at my left. “We’re gonna need you at the lodge before long. The human bureau has to fly in, but they’ll be here within the hour.”
My wolf rumbles.
“I don’t like ’em either, but we can’t leave ’em to Madog Collins this time, even if we wanted to.”
“Why not?” Madog handles the humans, and we let him think he’s in charge of all of us. That’s the deal.
“He’s gone off to find himself or some such shit.” Killian snorts. “Or Moon Lake offed him around the time Cadoc took off to start his new pack, and they’ve managed to keep it quiet.”
“Seriously?” Madog Collins is as close to a king as North American shifterdom has. He’s an institution, and a canny, vicious motherfucker to boot. I can’t imagine anyone taking him out. I wonder if Abertha’s heard anything. She was born to Moon Lake pack, and she keeps a place there. There seems to be no love lost between her and Madog, though. She spits every time she has to mention him by name.
“I guess the whole plan for a united shifter nation under Moon Lake is a bust.” Killian smirks. “What with Madog M.I.A., and his own pup founding a new pack. It’s anarchy now.”
“You like to see it,” I say.
Killian nods. “You do.”
We stand for a few moments in silence, listening to the murmurs of the females and the nighttime animals taking up in the woods surrounding this cluster of cabins. I neither scent nor hear anything that doesn’t belong, but my nerves don’t unwind. They can’t. I can’t see Mari, and there is a raw pain flowing through the bond. Abertha’s supposed to be healing her.
I should go in there.
And do what? Say what?
We’re back here, and everything that for a moment in time seemed so clear—protect Mari, keep her safe at all costs, keep her calm, soothe her fears—none of that is necessary now, at least not in this moment. So what do I do?
Who’s the bigger threat to her now—the humans behind the kidnapping, or me?
I feel as trapped in my indecision as I felt when I was chained in that box, and the claustrophobia riles my wolf, his growl rising, unsettling the females. Killian’s wolf hears a challenge, and his reply rattles Killian’s ribs. Unnerved, the females inch even further away.
“Maybe you should take a minute. Walk it off.” Killian gestures toward my rumbling chest.
“Maybe I should,” I say. I fold my arms tighter.
After a few more moments of quiet, except for our vocal wolves, Killian clears his throat. “I saw the bite.”
Out of nowhere, a wave of pride warms my chest.
“So you’re gonna take her out to your place, now?” he asks.
My whole body tenses. The urge to run rides me hard. Mari’s so small. The tips of her fingers can barely curl between mine when we’re palm to palm.