Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

ALEXANDER

I was nine years old when I discovered what it truly meant to be a Hawthorne.

Werewolves usually got their wolves when they turned thirteen, but I’d had the monster as far back as I could remember.

I’d felt that presence within me pushing and pushing, until one day I pushed back and shattered everything.

Father’s treasured glass replica of our pack’s boundaries laid in pieces at our feet.

“You didn’t see anything, did you?” I asked Dylan’s tutor, and the man’s jaw clenched, anger sparking to life in his clear brown eyes.

But beneath that anger, I easily detected the undercurrent of fear.

He was a mature wolf, and I was only a child barely half his height, yet he was terrified, and he didn’t know why.

I knew why, but at that moment, I was more focused on the broken replica.

If Father found out Dylan had broken the replica, the beating he’d given him last time would be child’s play.

“Alex,” Dylan’s soft, broken voice came from behind me. “I’m scared.”

Dylan was barely five years old. I was his older brother, so I had to keep him safe…by any means possible.

With only that thought in mind, I let go.

I blacked out.

When I came to, Father was in the study and Dylan was crouched next to me, his cheeks red and tear-streaked, and the tutor…the tutor lay lifeless on the floor, without a single mark on his body save for a nosebleed.

I’d later found out I’d crushed his mind with my thoughts alone.

My first kill, at only nine years old.

Father was proud. Ecstatic, even.

That was the day he told us about my legacy and my curse.

I realized two things that day, as whatever I had left of my childhood was ripped from me.

The first was that I was never going to be a good Hawthorne.

The second? I would never use that gift again.

But I did use it—again and again.

Father raised me to be an alpha who’d eclipse his own older brother’s legacy. He forced me to hone my “talent” and control over the monster, using Dylan as leverage to encourage my learning process.

I hated him, but I did as he commanded until the day I knew no one could stand against me.

That day, I pinned Father to the wall of his study and tendered my resignation as alpha heir of the Nightshade Pack.

“The next time you try to tell me what to do, I’ll fucking kill you,” I promised him.

Father never gave up his hope that I’d “come to my senses” and take back my title—and find a sacrifice to ensure I’d live past thirty. He didn’t even inform the pack that Dylan was alpha heir until the physicians diagnosed him with his incurable disease.

Maybe that was when Dylan’s envy had started to fester.

Or maybe it was even before then, during those years when I’d hated myself while doing Father’s bidding, fighting in every skirmish and getting more blood on my hands with each passing day. I tried to drown out my thoughts in anything and everything I could overindulge in: alcohol, drugs, and women I never spent more than one night with.

In those hazy years, I’d pushed Dylan away to protect him from the monster I’d become. Or maybe it was because I was jealous of how simple his life was compared to mine.

Our strained relationship completely disintegrated into nothing after just one argument.

It happened shortly after Dylan was officially named alpha heir.

“You’ll die if you don’t go through with the sacrifice.” Dylan was insistent, but I had a lifetime of experience ignoring anything regarding the curse.

I ran faster, forcing Dylan to sprint to keep up, breathless pants leaving his lips.

“Alex, don’t be stubborn. No one will know about it. You’ll be discreet like every Hawthorne before us,” he urged. “You can use that girl who follows you around…what’s her name, Anastasia? Promise her she’ll be your mate, then kill her as soon as she confesses her love for?—”

Dylan never saw my fist coming.

His nose was broken and bleeding as I held him up against a tree, rage burning through me.

“Have you lost your mind?” I growled. “If I die, then I fucking die, but I won’t ever murder an innocent to save my own life.”

Anastasia was my friend…perhaps the only one I had.

We had an understanding.

She already knew about my curse because she’d overheard one of Father’s indiscreet conversations, and if there was someone Anastasia cared for above anyone else, it was herself.

We didn’t stay loyal to each other, and we certainly didn’t love each other, we just made each other feel less alone.

Dylan’s face darkened as he tried and failed to extricate himself from my hold.

“You like you’re above the rest of us, but without those powers you claim to despise, you’re nothing,” he snarled, and I paused, stunned by the venom lacing his words.

I’d never seen that side of my little brother.

I’d always known my power didn’t make me special—just cursed.

But that wasn’t how Dylan saw it.

That was the moment I realized Dylan didn’t just want my former alpha heir position, he wanted the power that came with being a Hawthorne firstborn son.

My hold on Dylan slackened, but not before I gave him a clear warning.

“The next time you bring up this issue, alpha heir or not, I won’t spare you.”

I’d always thought the closest I would ever get to love would be Anastasia’s sporadic companionship, since I couldn’t risk anyone’s life by getting entangled with them.

After all, Father would be only too happy to arrange for an accident if he suspected my partner was in love with me.

He’d do anything to force me to return to my place as alpha heir.

Then I’d met Eleanor.

One look at those jade-green eyes that’d seemed to see me, just me, and not persona I had to hold up to keep people away from me, and I was lost.

Want. Need.

Those were words I thought I knew the meaning of before I met Eleanor, but she redefined their meaning.

I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted her.

But that was selfish of me. Keeping her would mean putting her life in danger.

So I reached out with those powers I’d sworn never to use, my skills slightly rusty with disuse, just doing enough to alter the details of our meeting.

Eleanor needed to hate me. She needed to never discover our mating bond so she could live a full, normal, happy life.

The thought of her being with my brother, the thought of him touching her, knowing her in a way I never could, ignited a depth of rage I’d never felt before.

For the first time in my life, I felt the urge to harm my brother.

But I thought of Eleanor, and it stayed my hand.

Dylan was a better person now than he’d been when he’d asked me to sacrifice Anastasia, even if our relationship hadn’t improved. He’d matured enough that I knew he’d be a worthy mate for Eleanor. She would live a happy, privileged life as the luna of the Nightshade Pack.

I could be content with that.

So I’d restricted myself to watching her from afar.

Until she’d shown up at my doorstep four years later with marks on her skin, pain and desire in her eyes and an unspoken plea on her lips.

Just like that, all my plans went up in smoke.

We were mated. It was both the fulfillment of my deepest, darkest desire and my worst nightmare.

Every day, it took everything in me to keep up the walls between us. I tried my best not to fall any harder for Eleanor than I already had, as I pushed her as far away from me as possible.

It was brutal to balance openly neglecting her so my father or his allies wouldn’t have her killed, while still protecting her to the best of my abilities.

But it’d all been for nothing.

I could have averted this conclusion if I’d killed Dylan earlier, instead of just knocking him out.

As I placed pressure on Eleanor’s wound, my hands stained with her blood, I knew this was all my fault.

My brother was dead by my own hands and my mate was?—

“I…I love you,” my mate croaked out. Those beautiful green eyes were shot with pain, and I realized what she’d done.

“No, you don’t,” I snarled.

She couldn’t love me. Not after all the pain I’d put her through. Everything I’d done, everything I’d said…it was impossible.

“I forbid it,” I said, with no small amount of panic. “You hate me, and you have your entire life ahead of you. The physicians?—”

“It’s…” I’d never heard Eleanor’s voice so tiny and shaky before. “Cold.”

“Eleanor,” I begged, cradling her in my arms. For such a vibrant personality, she seemed so small now, so fragile. “Eleanor, please stay with me.”

The moment the sword ran through her, I’d reached out through the pack link for the physicians, but they weren’t here yet. Dylan had planned this ambush point meticulously, so the camp was several kilometers away.

But I couldn’t give up hope on Eleanor. The physicians would be here soon and?—

Eleanor’s body went still against mine, her heart stopped beating, and the oppressive weight of my curse lifted.

No.

A howl of pure agony tore through me, hot tears falling down my cheeks as I refused to accept that she was gone.

No. Eleanor couldn’t die for me.

If anyone should have died for my ancestor’s sins, it was me. No one else.

I reached for the mate bond between us, but the connection was gone.

I howled again, bitter anger rising over my pain as I let my power loose, not caring about the consequences as I reached out for Eleanor, for help, for anything at all that could bring her back to me.

Something in me snapped, and suddenly I was no longer in the valley, but in a field I didn’t recognize. Eleanor was gone.

Panic surged through my veins.

“Eleanor!” I bellowed, searching for her to no avail. “Eleanor!”

“Blood of Bernard,” the voice—if it could even be called that—came from behind me.

I turned to see a woman in loose, flowing garments moving toward me, the silk of her dress whispering across the soft grass. Her dark hair floated even though there was no wind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make out anything but her blazing eyes, even though she was right in front of me. Her features seemed to morph every other second, like I was looking at a mirage.

A chill went up my spine as I realized this was no ordinary woman.

“You are the first in your line to reject the boon that has been gifted to you.” Her voice reverberated between us.

I should’ve felt a sense of awe in her presence, but I was consumed by the rage and pain of losing my mate.

“I never asked for this boon ,” I growled, angry tears springing to my eyes. “Eleanor shouldn’t have to bear the cost of the deal between you and Bernard.”

The woman wasn’t perturbed. Her tone remained perfectly casual.

“Your sacrifice has already been made. Your curse is broken.”

My instinct was to yell at her. To curse and fight her, even if she killed me for it. She was my only hope, and I’d do anything to force her to listen to me and help Eleanor.

But that was all I had done my entire life: fight and kill and fight again.

Where had that gotten me?

I fell to my knees and pressed my head to the soft, fragrant grass.

I would lay aside my ego. I’d lay aside anything for her.

“Please,” I groveled, knowing that whoever she was, goddess or piety, she was powerful enough to do something for Eleanor. “Take me instead, and let my mate live out the rest of her life.”

I was supposed to die in two months. I’d accepted it. I’d prepared for my inevitable death and put plans in place for Eleanor to be taken care of after my demise. She couldn’t die before me.

“You made a deal with my ancestor before,” I said when the woman stayed silent. “Please make one with me as well.”

The woman stayed silent for a few more moments, her hair and robes still floating in the nonexistent wind.

“You would sacrifice your life for this?” she asked, an odd note of curiosity in her voice.

“Anything.” I didn’t hesitate as I raised my head to meet her gaze. “I would sacrifice anything for her.”

I would have done anything the woman asked if it would guarantee Eleanor’s life.

Was this the sort of desperation that led men to sell their souls?

I had no need for a soul without Eleanor.

I couldn’t see the woman’s lips, so why did I have a feeling that she was smiling?

I blinked, and the heat of the sun suddenly hit my skin. The stench of death was thick in the air, and my body felt heavier.

No. I wasn’t heavier—it was the weight of Eleanor in my arms.

The woman was gone and I was back in the valley, with my blood-drenched mate in my arms.

No. No. No.

My chance was gone, and the woman had ignored my request.

I hugged Eleanor’s body, tears streaming down my cheeks as I finally accepted the fact that I’d lost her. Forever.

Self-loathing consumed me.

I should have protected her better, I never should have left her alone in the pack, I should have?—

I felt something press up against me, a tiny protest squeaking in my ear.

“Can’t…breathe…”

I must have misheard. I pulled back from Eleanor…and she blinked up at me with wide emerald eyes, her cheeks flushing a warm pink when a minute ago they’d been pale and cold.

I checked her wound, but there was nothing there—just bloodstained, unbroken skin.

The woman had healed her at no cost?

But even as that thought occurred to me, I noticed the sudden emptiness in my mind.

For the first time in my life, I was alone in my head. The monster was gone. I didn’t have a wolf anymore, couldn’t feel my psychic powers…and the mate bond between Eleanor and I was gone.

My mind was mine and mine alone. And Eleanor was alive.

I almost wept in relief.

I didn’t care if I still only had two months left or not. It didn’t matter if my powers were gone for good. She was all that mattered.

Eleanor shifted out of my arms and onto the ground, a confused expression on her face as she pressed her hand to her chest.

“Alexander, what ha?—”

“I love you, Eleanor,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “I’ve loved you from the first day I laid eyes on you.”

This was a miracle, and a second chance I didn’t intend to waste. I wouldn’t make the same mistake of hiding my feelings from Eleanor.

I wanted to spend whatever time we had left with no lies between us.

“I thought I could keep you safe by pushing you away and keeping you in the dark, but I was wrong. I should’ve stepped up and been a better mate. I should’ve been the reason for your smiles, not your tears. I was an idiot.”

My voice trembled as I laid my heart bare to her.

“I want to spend the rest of my life, however long that is, with you. I want to go to bed next to you and wake up with you by my side. I want to kiss away the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you argue with me about the silliest things, and…”

Goddess, I had so much more left to say, but the blank expression on Eleanor’s face made fear clench around my heart.

She’d proclaimed her love for me earlier, but she’d been delirious from blood loss.

With a clearer head, she’d remember everything I’d done to her—every harsh, demeaning word I’d said.

Maybe she didn’t want this anymore.

I held on to her hands unwaveringly. Even if Eleanor didn’t want me anymore, she was alive. That was all that mattered.

“I know I don’t deserve you, Eleanor,” I forged on, pushing past my fear. “I never have. But I promise, I’ll make it my life’s purpose to keep you happy…if you’ll have me.”

“You’re an idiot. An idiot who’s hurt me a lot,” Eleanor agreed, her lower lip wobbling slightly.

Then those stunning green eyes settled on mine, unshed tears twinkling in them.

“But I find that I’m quite partial to idiots,” she finished, a heartbreakingly beautiful smile on her lips.

My heart stopped.

“You…” I swallowed hard, unable to believe my ears. “You’ll have me?”

“Of course, I will,” Eleanor rolled her eyes as if I was being unreasonable, her signature feistiness sparking to life. “I’ll have you know I don’t sacrifice myself for just anyone.”

I laughed, tears spilling down my cheeks and a maddening joy overwhelming me as I pulled her into my arms.

Eleanor tucked her head into my chest, her hands stroking down my back as I wept.

“I love you,” I whispered over and over again, as though if I stopped speaking, this miracle would end and she’d disappear.

Eleanor nestled against me, her voice gentle and reassuring.

“I love you, too.”