Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

ALEXANDER

“ Y ou’re a bully,” Eleanor stated evenly, but her shoulders were tense and her green eyes flashed with barely bridled annoyance.

“It’s nice to see you too, mate,” I deadpanned, sending my senses across the room to check for threats or possible disturbances.

This handover had to be seamless. Nothing could go wrong.

“You didn’t have to send Seraphina away,” she continued, a hint of her anger coloring her words.

I thought of my little sister, who had no business being here with the restrictions Alpha Maximus had put on her after she’d tried eloping with her bodyguard.

Seraphina had never been the type to easily befriend anyone, so seeing her with Eleanor had been…surprising, even without considering what she’d been about to tell her.

What she had thankfully failed to tell her.

I met the gaze of my rather aggravating mate. “You keep forgetting that I do whatever I want, Eleanor.”

Eleanor’s expression shifted, her jaw clenching and unclenching at my words.

“Of course you do,” she grated out, before turning on her heel to leave.

I caught her arm and easily pulled her to a stop, ignoring the primal stirrings of the monster within me when her scent hit us.

Eleanor glared at me, but before she could protest, the entire hall fell silent for the entry of Alpha Maximus.

As he moved, his aura of dominance enveloped the room in his wake. He paused just long enough to nod at Dylan, who made his way toward him with his mate, Micah, at his side.

It was time.

For years, I’d facilitated this day.

The day when my brother would take over the Nightshade Pack.

But as I watched Alpha Maximus take his place at the podium, all I felt was a distinct sense of foreboding.

Eleanor tried to yank her arm out of my grasp once more, but my hold on her was firm.

Tipping her head back slightly, she bared her canines at me, her voice dipping into a strained whisper.

“Let. Me. Go.”

“You will stay with me until the announcement is over,” I informed her.

Eleanor trembled, but I knew it wasn’t from cold. She was incandescent with anger.

“You can’t tell me what to do, Alexander.” The pitch of her voice climbed with each word, until the wolves close by stole glances at us.

I knew this woman was going to be the death of me.

“I—” I began, but my words were cut off by a high-pitched scream behind me.

“Alpha Maximus!”

“The alpha has collapsed!”

I turned, a chill settling in my chest.

There were no attackers and no sign of injury. Just Alpha Maximus, my father, crumpled on the staircase leading up the podium, his body jerking from what appeared to be a seizure.

I didn’t realize I’d let go of Eleanor’s arm. Didn’t realize I’d begun to race toward the podium.

At that moment, nothing mattered—not even the past or the hatred that had blossomed between us due to the curse.

None of it.

“The alpha will not make a full recovery.”

The physician’s soft voice did nothing to ease the sting of his words.

Father had been sick before, and despite the treatment that had been managing his ailment, he’d decided to step down from his position as alpha even though he was relatively young for a wolf.

It was blood poisoning, a rare, incurable genetic disease that affected one in a million wolves. The cells of a wolf that should’ve made them impervious to minor illnesses instead attacked healthy cells aggressively.

With the advanced medical care the Nightshade Pack boasted, we thought we had it under control.

We’d been wrong.

Dylan gripped the physician’s shirt, nearly lifting him off the ground.

“You said he was fine,” Dylan growled, his eyes dark with anger. “That the new medications were working.”

“I’m sorry.” The physician’s shoulders slumped. “This relapse was unpredictable and?—”

“How long does he have left?” I asked, cutting in.

“Weeks. Maybe months, if we’re lucky.”

That was all the comfort the physician could give us. This rapid onset of paralysis had made a precise diagnosis impossible.

Dylan stormed off, leaving me alone with Father, who was still unconscious.

I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t.

This heaviness in my limbs…was this guilt?

Guilt for not being a son who blindly followed the whims of his father?

“Alexander.”

The sound of Father’s voice cut through my hazy thoughts, and I met the gaze of the man who’d once been my hero.

“Alpha Maximus.”

A small, almost pained smile crept up his lips.

“T-This once you can call me Father.” His voice came out warped, the muscles of his cheeks already stiffening.

Very soon, he wouldn’t be able to speak.

For some reason, it was hard to look at him.

Maybe it was because all I could see now were his gray hairs, the lines in his face, and the weariness of his gaze instead of the dominant, ruthless alpha who’d raised me.

I’d been so focused on staying true to myself and pushing him away, but now…

No. Nothing had changed.

“The physician can’t help you anymore,” I said curtly. “You have months, maybe just weeks, left.”

Father didn’t look surprised.

“So that’s how it is.”

The edges of his mouth turned down in a self-deprecating smile.

“I’ll get Seraphina and Dylan.” I inclined my head slightly, about to take my leave, when his fingers wrapped around my wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

I turned back to face him.

The expression on Father’s face was fierce and unyielding. It was that of an alpha, not a dying man.

“He’s not strong enough to lead the Nightshade Pack,” he said roughly, his eyes searching mine. “ You must make the necessary sacrifices and lead our pack.”

This was the reason I’d wanted to boycott the announcement. I’d known he’d try something like this.

Father was sick, but he was still the wolf I knew. Coming here had been a mistake.

“I will never be the alpha of the Nightshade Pack,” I informed him, shrugging off his hand before walking out of the room without a backward glance.

“You always were his favorite.” Dylan’s voice was heavy with resentment.

He stood, his back against the wall, out of sight but close enough to have overheard the conversation between Alpha Maximus and me.

“But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” Dylan continued, taking a threatening step toward me. “It wasn’t enough to satiate your twisted desire…you wanted to take everything from me.”

The monster stirred within me, excited at the prospect of this new challenge, but I easily blocked him out and walked past Dylan.

Dylan moved, settling inches in front of me, his steps a blur, his brown eyes seething with cold hard hatred.

“I’ll be a greater alpha than you could ever be, Alexander.”

“Good for you.” I shrugged indifferently. “Keep me out of it.”

This time when I moved past him, he didn’t stop me.

The door of my room shut behind me, and I realized that my hands were shaking.

I envied Dylan sometimes.

He had freedom, the ability to feel his emotions freely, and to express his anger, his discontent, his frustration, and his pain without consequence.

At least here, in the privacy of my own home, I could let down the facade of calm I wore like armor.

I hit the wall adjacent to my door. Once. Twice. Thrice.

But my fury only grew.

What had I done to deserve this ?

I stopped hitting the wall when my hand could no longer form a fist. Blood dripped down in rivulets and my broken fingers twisted in unnatural directions.

I already felt them realigning to their normal positions, my healing far more accelerated than that of a normal wolf. In a few minutes, I’d be fine.

That somehow made me even angrier.

“Alexander?”

The soft sound of Eleanor’s voice shattered the haze of fury I was lost in.

Her emerald green eyes were full of concern, and a soft gasp escaped her lips when she noticed my bleeding hand.

“I’ll get a first aid k—” she began to say, but I interrupted her.

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing off her concern and heading toward my bathroom.

I wanted to avoid this woman who made me feel things I didn’t want to think about.

Naturally, Eleanor didn’t let it go.

She moved, her hand reaching out to mine.

“But you’re?—”

Her rich, decadent scent hit me again, but this time, I didn’t have my usual control.

Before I was fully aware of what I was doing, my uninjured hand slipped to the back of her neck and tugged her closer.

A small sound left Eleanor’s lips, and I felt an inexplicable urge to capture that sound with my lips—to taste her defiance and her surrender.

As though she could hear my thoughts, Eleanor’s lips parted slightly, the pulse on her neck racing beneath my thumb.

Holding her this close, I could almost forget all the reasons I couldn’t want her.

Almost.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want you around before you get it?” I growled. “Or are you so desperate for any attention that you simply don’t care?”

Eleanor sucked in a sharp breath, pain glittering in her emerald-green eyes as she shoved me away, breaking my hold on her.

“Every time I want to believe I have the wrong idea about you, you prove you’re just an insensitive, conceited jerk,” she bit out before walking away from me and slamming the door behind her.

Eleanor and I still weren’t speaking when Dylan’s coronation ceremony arrived a few days later.

The full moon was high in the sky, its light almost as bright as the sconces that lined the path to the clearing.

Dylan and Micah knelt in front of the entire pack as the pack priestess stood between them and carried out the ordainment.

Eleanor stood several feet away with her arms around Seraphina, whose eyes were red-rimmed and full of shadows.

This was the first time in days that she wasn’t openly sobbing. By the time she’d gotten to Alpha Maximus, he’d lost his ability to speak, and Seraphina had been inconsolable.

I’d tried to speak with her, but the only person she tolerated right now was Eleanor.

“With this mantle, you carry the weight of the future of the Nightshade Pack.” The pack’s priestess addressed Dylan, her solemn voice carrying with the night wind across the clearing. “Wear it with pride, carry it with humility…”

“Are you certain you want to give Dylan this much power over you?” Anastasia’s voice was barely above a whisper, and her familiar presence was a welcome balm.

Anastasia and I had been friends since childhood, and while we’d been something more years ago, we were better off as friends.

We’d fought many battles together and she’d seen me at my worst. She might be the only person who truly understood me.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I shrugged. “My thirtieth birthday is six months away.”

Anastasia stiffened.

“Of course.” The levity in her voice sounded forced as her gray gaze flicked to mine. “But the situation has changed now that you’re mated, hasn’t it?”

No, it hadn’t. Not if I could help it.

“Not now, Anastasia,” I said tightly.

I wasn’t in the mood for an argument, not that anything she said would change my stance.

Anastasia nodded once, and took my hand in hers.

“All right,” she said softly, her voice calm and soothing. “Just know I’m here for you. Always.”

Like she always had been—a perfect partner.

But for some reason, my gaze involuntarily found Eleanor, whose rapt attention was on the coronation.

She hadn’t so much as tossed me a curious glance since we reached the clearing. Forget the clearing, she’d been ignoring me for days.

The monster within me wasn’t the least bit pleased. He wanted me to take back my words. His mate belonged at his side, and he wanted her all to himself. He wanted all of her attention. He wanted to lose himself in her scent, her touch.

He wanted and wanted, but I couldn’t care less about the monster’s insatiable desires.

This distance between Eleanor and I was good. Great, in fact. This was the only sort of relationship we could have.

One of public tolerance and private hate.

“Long live Alpha Dylan. Long live Luna Micah,” the pack priestess announced. Dylan and Micah rose to their feet at her words. “Long live the Nightshade Pack!”

Howls of celebration filled the night air, the cheers of our pack members shaking the ground.

Micah stood straighter, a smile of triumph on her lips as she regarded the display. She looked up at her mate, perhaps hoping to share the moment with him, but Dylan’s gaze was fixed on Eleanor, who was currently speaking to Seraphina.

Micah’s smile vanished, and the monster within me stirred restlessly.

Dylan’s gaze left Eleanor and moved across the rest of the pack.

“My father served this pack all his life, and I hope to do the same,” he said finally, his voice carrying an air of authority that had been absent before the coronation.

“Even now, our enemies lie in wait, ready to attack at the first sign of weakness, but with the support of every one of you standing here, we will not falter.”

Louder cheers filled the air, but there was a heft to Dylan’s words that gave me pause.

The Nightshade Pack wasn’t currently embroiled in any wars. No one was stupid enough to stand against us.

The only pack that came to mind when he spoke of enemies lying in wait was the Bloodfrost Pack.

It was one of the largest packs we’d ever warred with. The last war we’d fought with them had nearly annihilated the alpha lineage of the Bloodfrost Pack and claimed the life of the alpha before Father. But thinking of them as a threat was foolhardy. The war with them had been over for decades.

Perhaps I was overthinking things.

The festivities began and drinks flowed around the rapidly constructed bonfire.

Anastasia pressed a cup of alcohol into my hands, but I didn’t take a sip. I was too busy counting the moments until I could leave.

In truth, I could leave anytime I pleased, but not without seeming like I was resentful or wanted to challenge Dylan’s new position as alpha of the Nightshade Pack.

There was already enough tension going around after Father’s sudden collapse. I didn’t want to destabilize things further.

Once Dylan was done with his first dance with his luna, I could leave without consequence.

The rising beat of the drums drowned out Anastasia’s words, or maybe it was my inability to stop staring at Eleanor that distracted me.

Eleanor offered a soft smile to Seraphina, who seemed to be on the verge of tears again. My sister returned the smile before excusing herself with a bow and suddenly running off to Goddess knew where.

There was something about that smile that reminded me of the last time we’d spoken, when she’d tried to comfort me and all I’d given her in return were harsh words.

I looked away, my free hand forming a fist at my side.

The drumbeats switched up. It was time for the first dance. Finally.

Dylan took a step forward, then another.

The entire pack seemed to fall silent as they realized he didn’t intend to take the first dance with his luna.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t dare.

Eleanor seemed to be the only one surprised, her eyes as wide as saucers as Dylan stopped in front of her, his hand outstretched to request a dance with her.

Eleanor looked beyond Dylan, her gaze finding mine unerringly…and then she took Dylan’s offered hand.

Oh, little rabbit.

Was this supposed to make me jealous?

If so, she’d failed miserably.

The hushed whispers that broke out were barely masked by the rising tempo of the drumbeats.

“...first dance supposed to be with the new luna?”

“... can’t just break the bond of four years of engagement…”

Micah was deathly still as she watched Dylan with Eleanor.

Dylan drew her close, seemingly not caring about anything going on around him except Eleanor, and the dance began.

The monster bared his canines within me.

I felt Anastasia go rigid next to me, and while the wolves around me stayed silent, I felt their gazes on me as well. But all my attention was on the dance.

Dylan’s hands settled on Eleanor’s lower back as his lips brushed her ear. Eleanor’s hands settled around his shoulders, and her lips parted as she spoke.

The monster urged me to close the distance between us and slaughter Dylan for daring to touch our mate.

But I did nothing.

I didn’t want to get closer to them. I didn’t want to know what he was telling her that had her so entranced. I didn’t want to know what she was saying in response as their bodies swayed only inches apart.

I didn’t want anything to do with Eleanor. I didn’t?—

I enhanced my hearing, filtering through the cacophony of sounds until I heard Eleanor’s soft voice as clearly as if she was standing next to me.

“...dancing with Micah?”

“I’ve been thinking about the hunt.” Dylan’s voice was distant, but his gaze was steady on Eleanor. “How you were almost kidnapped.”

When I’d left to take care of Eleanor that evening, Dylan alone had overseen the interrogation of the last unconscious assailant before executing him.

Dylan had since refused to reveal whatever he’d gleaned from the assailant, if he’d learned anything at all, so there were no leads about who’d ordered the kidnapping.

Yet.

I intended to find out the truth, no matter how long it took.

Regardless of how our relationship was in private, Eleanor was my mate. An attack on her was an attack on me.

Eleanor was silent as she stared quizzically up at Dylan.

“You marked Alexander. You chose him, and I hated you for it.” Dylan’s voice shook with emotion as he spoke. “But since that day I’ve come to realize that I hate the thought of losing you even more.”

“Dylan.”

I couldn’t read the emotion in Eleanor’s voice or the expression on her face.

All I could feel was an all-consuming rage that was a perfect blend of my emotions and the monster’s.

“I don’t think I can give up on you, Eleanor.” Dylan’s voice was rough with desire. Desire for my mate . “I don’t want to give up on you.”

I didn’t remember walking up to Dylan, but I must have because one minute, I was at the other side of the bonfire, and the next I was pulling Eleanor out of Dylan’s grasp.

I’d thought if I pushed Eleanor far enough, I could avoid this. But what if it was already too late? What if I already…

“This dance is over.”