6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I waited for several minutes by the front door in case Daniella came back in with floods of tears, but when she didn't reappear I ventured into my office. The security desk was unmanned and I guessed it had been abandoned when the Cheshire pack's wolves' intrusion had started.

Archie was sitting in one of my guest chairs. ‘Archie?' I asked in question.

He looked up at me and, to my surprise, there were tears streaking his face. ‘What's wrong?' I crossed the distance to him quickly.

‘You killed him,' he said dully. ‘I wanted to kill him.'

I blinked. ‘You wanted to be alpha?'

‘No! Gods, no. He's the one… He killed my dad and I wanted to avenge him, you know? And now you've done it for me, and I'm thankful and grateful and pissed off. And I'm pissed off that I'm pissed off. Why the hell should I be pissed off at you for killing him? I'm the one that called you, for fuck's sake. I wanted you here and I'm glad he's dead. But I'm also…'

‘Pissed off?' I offered as he trailed off.

He half-laughed. ‘Yeah.' He scrubbed at his cheeks. ‘I'm sorry, Alpha.'

‘For what?'

‘For being any percent pissed off. I should be one hundred percent grateful and nothing else.'

‘Archie, you're human. Rain was responsible for your dad's death so it's understandable that you'd want to avenge him. I get it. But in the moment, seeing him trying to hurt Nina like that, I saw red. I'm sorry I took your vengeance away from you, but I'm not sorry the twat is dead.'

‘He's not a twat. He's a fucking cunt.'

I gave him a faux-shocked look. ‘We're British, we're not supposed to use that word. Goodness me.'

He laughed. ‘It's a British fucking word.' He sobered. ‘Thank you for killing him, Lucy. I am grateful he's dead. It was like a splinter in my finger, niggling away all the damned time, getting sore and infected. Maybe now, I can just … live.'

I smiled. ‘That would be good.'

He stood up and took a few steps before whirling back and pulling me into a firm embrace. ‘Thank you,' he repeated, his words muffled by my hair. He gave me one last squeeze then bolted for the door, sidling past Greg who'd entered the room at some point in our conversation.

Greg shut the door behind him. ‘Do I need to kill him?' he asked lightly.

I grinned. ‘No—' I started, but I was interrupted by my phone. Dad calling. My stomach jolted; I hadn't spoken to him since the day I'd discovered he'd had himself cleared. It still killed me, though I was aware I probably wasn't being fair.

‘One second. It's Dad.' I frowned as I answered the call. ‘Hey, Dad. Are you okay?'

‘I don't know,' he said. ‘Am I? I feel like I've forgotten something, Lucy. Something important. Your mother keeps crying when I ask her. Have I missed something, love?' His voice was lost, bewildered. ‘This is more than old age, I'm sure of it. I just feel like I've forgotten something very important. Do I have dementia?'

My throat was tight. ‘You don't have dementia, Dad. You're fine.'

‘Did I forget someone's anniversary? I've forgotten something , I know I have. Your mother is pissed off at me. She's trying to let it go, but she hasn't quite managed and she won't tell me what I did wrong. '

‘You didn't do anything wrong,' I said softly. I couldn't deal with this now. ‘I'm sorry Dad, I have to go.'

‘Oh. Okay, Lucy Caboosy.' His disappointment was palpable and it cut me. ‘We're okay though, right?'

I closed my eyes. ‘Always.' I hung up and ran to Greg for a cuddle. The scent of him settled around me, though it wasn't its usual toe-curling goodness thanks to the added stench of acrid smoke, blood and sweat. It reminded me that I had far more to focus on than a bit of family drama. The stuff with Dad would have to wait.

‘Is everyone okay?' I asked.

‘All our wolves are fine,' Greg reassured me. ‘There was nothing a shift couldn't heal.'

‘And their wolves?'

‘The same,' he confirmed. ‘We arrived before things really heated up. Archie did the right thing in calling us.'

‘Yeah, but he's sad about it.'

‘Calling you?'

‘Not that, about not being the one to kill Rain.'

‘Ah. Understandable.'

‘It is. I honestly didn't even think about letting him have the blow and I should have.'

Greg shook his head. ‘You did what was necessary. Don't lose sleep over shoulda, woulda, coulda.'

‘I killed Rain,' I said suddenly, licking my lips.

‘I know. I saw you.'

‘No. I killed him. Not Esme, me. I did it. I wanted to, I wanted to kill him, Greg. I'm scared,' I admitted. ‘I'm scared I'm losing myself.'

‘You're not, Peaches,' he assured me. He lifted me up and carried me over to the mahogany desk. ‘You're doing so well. You're such a strong leader, with compassion in your heart and strength in your spine. I am so proud of you, every inch of you.'

He lowered his lips to mine and I suddenly didn't care about the smoke or the stale sweat on his skin; I didn't care about anything. We'd had a really long day; my best friend wasn't married and I was alpha of yet another pack. And I had another death on my conscience.

I pushed it all away forcefully and focused instead of the sensation of Greg's tongue against mine. I tugged up his T-shirt so that I could feel his glorious washboard abs, the warmth of his skin against mine and the thunder of his heart. Miraculously, we were both alive.

‘Oh God, Lucy,' he groaned as his body ground against mine. ‘Spreadsheets.' He murmured as he kissed my neck. ‘Numbers. Statistics.'

‘What are you doing?' I panted.

‘I'm talking dirty to you.'

A strangled laugh slipped out of my throat. ‘God, I love you. But sometimes I like the actual dirty talk,' I admitted.

He leaned down and his hot breath teased the shell of my ear as he told me what he wanted to do to me.

And I let him do exactly that.