FIFTY-FOUR

Billie

WITH OUR BOOTS on, we stand on the back patio that's accessible through the French doors off the massive black-and-white modern kitchen, with what looks like a new built-in, high-end, worthy-of-an-Italian-prince espresso machine.

The large bluestone patio overlooks a well-maintained, shaded yard that is encircled by pine trees. On the side of the yard that abuts the wild field between our abodes (wink, wink) sits a hot tub that's surrounded by boulders and stones, making it look more like a hot spring. It's lit up with fairy lights and little walkway lights as if it's inviting me to strip down and hide beneath its warm waters. I groan because hot springs diving will just keep me ignorant, and we've got royal shifter powers to learn.

Alessandro calls down to the gym and asks for Assad and Heydar to bring up some dumbbells ranging from twenty-five to one hundred pounds. The three of us begin setting the weights up in various locations around the yard. Alessandro is smiling and humming throughout the task. His playful energy calls to mine, and I eagerly lean into it feeling my nervousness lighten to something closer to enthusiasm. Fun, this could be fun.

"Come, come," he beckons with a wide smile, ardently motioning his arm for us to meet him on the upper patio. His exuberant energy is compelling, and I bask in it, in him, like he's a hot tub of happiness. Without thinking, I grab Xander's hand and skip my way over to Sandro, dragging a stumbling and laughing Xander behind me. I soak up the moment. We feel like us again, how we're supposed to be, me lightening him, him holding my hand. Like when our shifters met for the first time: Xander's wolf was the wind that held my fox while she danced.

Alessandro positions us to stand in front of the weights and then turns to face us. Clapping and rubbing his hands together, he announces. "I will confess I do not have this specific power, but the application of these types of powers are all very similar at their core." A little bit of my excitement turns to worry, and both Alessandro and Xander sense it. Xander brings our joined hands up and lays a soft kiss on my knuckle, while Alessandro tosses me a crooked smile. " La mia stella , there's nothing to be nervous about. The worst that can happen is, well, nothing or. . ." Pausing, he twists his head around, surveying the area, and shrugs a nonchalant shoulder. "Or you take out a tree."

"Take out a tree?!" I squeak with bugged-out eyes looking at all the trees, wondering if one of them will be my victim.

Alessandro crosses his arms over his chest and quirks a brow. " Duchessa, neither is very bad. One we can work with and figure out the issue or issues. The other?" He licks his smirking lips. "Well, what a story we'll have to tell , si !"

"Right," I sputter with a laugh. "Let's do it for the story then."

"E questa sarà solo una delle tante storie che condivideremo, la mia stella ," Alessandro murmurs, his green eyes shining in the lights from the back porch. Those Italian lessons can't come fast enough.

Then we get to work. He has Xander stand off to the side, while he comes up next to me. " La mia stella , when Little Fox sent the energy out, I assume it wasn't from a spooled source, like how we had worked together in the past."

Bobbing my head, I slowly reply, "Correct, because I would've felt her spooling it."

" Si ," he affirms. "Tonight, we will spool the energy like we did before, but"—he grimaces— "unlike before, this type of shifter power has an emotional trigger."

"Of course it does," I grumble to myself, rubbing my eyelids with the palms of my hands, feeling like the universe is that nagging friend who knows you're hurting and forces you to face that hurt head-on, making you fully acknowledge and stand in your emotions.

Unlike yesterday, when unable to watch the men's soccer game, I didn't run. I want to make that clear.

I. Did. Not. Run.

I walked at a speedy clip with Taylor to the dorms.

There were local reporters and so many girls, both from the college and from his pack, that the school's small section of bleachers was filled well beyond capacity, forcing the rest to huddle along the sidelines. With every squeal of his name, every comment on how hot and oh... oh how alpha he was, Little Fox was ready to either slash a bitch or fuck him in front of everyone.

I couldn't take it. The females were just there to watch him. Yeah, they were cheering enthusiastically, and some had made signs, and yeah, many let their interests in him be known, but none of them tried to touch him. Xander for the most part ignored all of it, all of them. Except for the wolves from his pack. He did acknowledge them, and there were young wolves there too. Little boys and girls with their parents, not just the single she-wolves. He did go up and greet all of them prior to the start of the game, which with his new position makes sense.

Rationally, it all makes sense.

But the arched brow from Maria in question, the downturned corners of Taylor's mouth in concern, and Heather's canted head in confusion made none of it easier. And what could I tell them? Oh, well you see Xander had to shift into a wolf and fight another wolf for the position of alpha wolf-shifter of his father's former pack, and Xander won. Nope. Can't tell them any of that. To avoid questions I didn't know how to answer, to prevent Little Fox from force-shifting me or fighting or cajoling me into fucking Xander on the halfway line, I left with Taylor. Within the first five minutes of the game.

Little Fox was none too impressed, but hey, that's standard for her with me lately. Taylor didn't push for answers either, something that I'm grateful for because if Maria had come with me, I know she would have. Sometimes you need a friend that will just let you be silent and support that silence, and sometimes you need a friend that will drag shit out of you. Taylor gave me what I needed, and it reaffirmed my faith in our friendship. I showered at the dorms, skipped dinner, and headed for the library. I hid out on the second floor until Jax found me asleep with my head pillowed by my developmental psychology textbook, and maybe a little drool dripping from the corner of my open mouth.

I have so many doubts, not with how we feel about each other, but in my ability to confidently be by Xander's side in a world that feels like I don't belong. Shit, two worlds where I don't feel like I can be myself. I'm not a socialite, and I'm not a wolf-shifter. This aspect of Xander's life: the alpha, the board member, the millionaire? I don't know how I can be supportive and be with him in front of others without putting a mask on, without pretending, and I don't know what to do with all these feelings. I shake my head because obviously my thoughts are racing along with my feelings, and I can't put this on him.

With watery eyes, I turn back to Alessandro, who's been quietly regarding me with one arm wrapped around his waist, the other bent, knuckles rubbing the underside of his chin in curious concern. Pulling back the tears, I inhale a heavy breath. "Accessing the emotions won't be a problem, so tell me the steps, and let's see how this works."

Alessandro glances between Xander and me and reaches his hand out to me while nodding. "I think it will be best if we connect energies like we did in the past." He wraps his warm, dry hand around mine, and I squeeze it in silent thanks. With a few brushes of his thumb over my knuckles, his fox's energy seeps into me, and Little Fox instantly perks up. A clogged giggle clambers up my throat, and the tightness in my chest, in my heart, eases.

I look obliquely at Alessandro, and he grins. "They like each other very much."

Rolling my eyes, I snort a laugh. "Yes, because they like themselves very much, and since they are so alike, how can they not like the other?" Little Fox merely smirks as if to say when awesome finds awesome, what are we to do but be more awesome?

Alessandro laughs. " Si, la mia stella . Now onto the lesson. With normal shifters, we think of energies as pools, but with royals, it is better to think of spooling our energies. Letting us pull a thread from our source, thin and strong, like a deep-sea fishing line. Then spool it in a circle."

"Huh," Xander grunts, and Alessandro and I both turn to him. Ruffling his fingers through his hair, he says, "That's good to know. When Billie had me tap into her energy at the boxing match, I pulled from it like siphoning water from a pool, which might explain some of the difficulty I was initially having and what she was feeling."

"You must have felt like you were drowning in her power, amico mio ," Alessandro comments.

"Yeah, her power is vast and dense, and then I. . ." He wavers and rubs the back of his neck. "Took too much."

"Xander," I start, but Alessandro interjects. "You did not know, amico mio , and it would have been you who could have been hurt, drowned in her power before you tapped her out." Well, that doesn't make me feel good. Alessandro continues, "But next time, pull only a thread out and then coil it. Her energy is more concentrated, making it more stable, more... solida . Solid. Non-royal shifter's energy is more fluid."

Xander's eyes swing between Alessandro and me, and he nods. "I get it. Though it would be helpful if I could connect with both of you. See how your foxes interact and sense the way you both handle her energy."

"That sounds like a good idea, but maybe not when I'm learning for the first time," I mutter, my hand trembling in Alessandro's. He covers his other hand over our joined ones. Xander's gaze drops to where we're connected and when he lifts his eyes to meet mine; there's hurt weighing them down. I meet his hurt unflinchingly and continue. "I've got to trigger this with emotions I'd rather not have you feel, especially because I know they're inaccurate and not related to anything real." Xander's jaw tightens in frustration or anger, and it pisses me off. Doesn't he get it? Doesn't he get what this is doing to me? Through clenched teeth, I state, "Xander, it's bad enough I'm allowing myself to feel them. I don't want you to as well. It would only add pain to you and thereby increase mine."

He stares at me, and I hold his stare, rolling my shoulders back and standing firm in my decision. Then I turn back to Alessandro and give him a curt nod. And that little bit of defiance grants me a sly grin of approval from Little Fox, which just confuses me even more. Whatever. I bring my attention to the task at hand, letting my vision blur and focus my mental energy on working with Little Fox to extract a thread of our power and coil it like rope on a crab fishing boat.

"Not too much," Alessandro cautions. Little Fox rolls her eyes, and Alessandro's fox softly snickers at her attitude. With a lift of her nose, she protracts a claw and slices off the strap of our energy with theatrical flair.

" Eccellente !" Sandro affirms, then instructs, "I want you to pick out a specific target, and once you've infused the energy with your emotions, you will send it out with a snap of your wrist. This will mean you, Duchessa, will actually be moving your arm and flicking your wrist as if you were holding a whip, directing where it will go." He pauses. "You said in the past she's done this with a slam of her tail, but this time I want you to be the one in control. We can cover both of you working together, her slamming her tail, and you most likely clapping your hands. However,. . ." He nervously chuckles. "I'd rather test that in a much more open area and not near my house , si ."

"Sounds good to me," I reply, definitely not wanting to start with big bangs.

"Look out and pick a weight to focus on," he states. I survey the dumbbells in the yard, choosing a fifty-pounder perched on a white wicker chair about twenty yards away from me. "Once you are locked in on your target, bring those hard emotions to the forefront. Get a sense of the emotions and give them enough power to form a shape something that you can see in your mind. Then Little Fox will feed your spooled shifter energy through that emotional representation. This will"—he rocks his head from side to side and blows out a breath— "transform the energy, intensifying it and making it more malleable. Then you'll need to send it with your thoughts down the arm to the hand you will use. After that. . ." He slyly smiles and flicks his wrist, singing, " Whip it. Whip it good ."

"DEVO, Alessandro, really?" I puff out a short laugh.

" Si, la mia stella . How often does a whip come up in conversation? I must use these opportunities when available," he asserts as if this is something we should all do.

"Okay, but I need my hand, Alessandro," I reply with a wry smile, tapping my thumb against his hand. "Lefty and all, I wouldn't want this going poorly because I succumbed to the societal pressures of using my right hand."

"Not at all. Let me come around and take hold of your right hand," he murmurs, floating in front of me so close our fronts brush against each other and our gazes connect. I stare into his green eyes that show nothing but genuine companionship, and we hold that connection while his left hand trails down my right arm, gently embracing my hand before he releases the other. Only then does he step to my side, his thumb once again rubbing my knuckle. " Iniziare, la mia stella ."

With Alessandro holding my hand, giving me unwavering support, I feel strong enough to finally let all my emotions come to the surface. Closing my eyes, I free them from the crevices and recesses where I've been hiding them. They emerge: the anger, the self-doubt, the shame, the guilt, the insecurity, and the mother of them all, the emotion they all stem from—the fear.

Steeling my resolve, I let that fear fill me. I let it swirl and knot and coalesce. Watching and feeling it gain more power by giving it my full focus, my full attention, I see it grow and bubble and spark. Cold dread drips down my spine at seeing how dark and eruptive it is. My fear for my future with Xander—it takes shape. I shiver. Alessandro's fox is with mine. He whines and nudges her nose and cheek, which she returns, and I feel a little sympathy from Little Fox. Alessandro whispers, " Mi dispiace la stella mia, andrà tutto bene, te lo assicuro."

I inhale, but it's more of a wheezing gasp, my airway in a chokehold of my own fear. I will myself to not just hold on to it but let it flourish, feeding it more and more of my attention. The chilly drips down my spine start to freeze as if my body temperature is dropping or being used in the transformation. I watch the gray clouds solidify into something retaining a shape, like water vapor being pulled together forming a raindrop. But this is no raindrop. It is an amorphous globule that could take on any shape, that could blind me and suffocate me and hold me immobilized if I let it. Then I see the mini-explosions. Bright-red lights flare deep within, and with each explosion, my body temperature fluctuates from cold to hot.

Little Fox has been observing the whole time, and she must sense something that I don't because she picks up one end of our spooled energy and begins passing it through my cold, eruptive fear. She and I then cautiously guide the freezing yet syrupy energy down my arm. What was once a bright green now glows radioactive, and I can feel our shifter energy traveling through me—an energy that is so cold it burns like liquid nitrogen. The sensation is so intense that I'm almost disconnected from the rest of my body. Cold flames flicker the nerve endings of my left arm, and the pain only worsens with the pooling of it in my hand. When the last of the spooled energy slinks down my wrist, my hand is throbbing, and I tell myself it's just pain, and pain is nothing I'm unfamiliar with.

"The energy is ready to be released. Send out all those emotions in a flick of the wrist," Alessandro rasps.

The process reminds me of what Eckhart Tolle wrote about in The Power of Now about angry ducks. You'll see two ducks get into a duck spat over a piece of bread, mutual interest in the same female duck, or the best real estate on the duck pond—whatever ducks get angry about. Anyway, they'll fight how ducks fight: flapping wings, clashing beaks, and making a bunch of noise. Then at some point the fight ends, and they separate. They swim away and flap their wings a couple more times, releasing the excess energy left over from the disagreement. They're basically transferring or transmuting their angry duck energy into kinetic energy.

If I look at this process like that, then I've transformed the emotional energy of my fear in all its forms, into this pool of radioactive shifter energy that needs to be expelled. My lips tip up at the edges, liking the idea. Sure, my hand is throbbing with cold pain like it may freeze off, but I totally prefer physical pain over emotional pain. Better still, if I can get some of these emotions released, maybe I'll be able to think clearly again.

Focusing on the dumbbell, I lift up my left arm, aligning my pulsating fingers with the target, then I slowly bend my elbow. Alessandro hums his approval. Inhaling a calming breath, I snap my elbow straight, flicking my wrist at the end of the movement as a fly fisherman might. There's a huge whoosh of an unseen resistance being displaced by a bright-green line of light slicing through the air across the yard. A sizzling roar resounds when the energy nicks a corner of the metal dumbbell, followed by the clanging of a chunk of it bouncing off the moss-covered patio pavers in the lower yard. It burns a hole through the back of the wicker chair. The energy hits the pine trees with crackles and pops from the pine needles catching fire, burning bright orange and emitting heavy plumes of smoke into the otherwise clear night. Then the smaller twigs light up until the energy is finally stopped by the trunk of a tree a little farther back. The tree groans and splinters from the impact. More flames and sparks brighten up the darkened woods. My eyes grow bigger and bigger with each additional flame of destruction, my jaw drops lower and lower with the sounds of mini-explosions, and my mind whirls at seeing the physical cold fire of my own icy fear.

"I . . . I started a . . . a fire," I stammer.

" MAMMA MIA!" Alessandro exclaims, letting go of my hand to clap his hands over his stretched-out mouth. Xander rushes to the side of the patio where there's a garden hose looped around a hook attached to the house. He quickly spins the nozzle, turning the water on, and unhooks the long hose, dropping it on the ground. Then he proceeds to put the fire out with a calm focus that befits, well, an alpha.

The stomping of hurried footsteps loud enough for me to feel boom from the house right before Assad, Heydar, and Annabelle burst through the French doors, looking like they're ready for a fight. The twins each holding a gun, Annabelle gripping a fire poker (which I will find humor in later), all of them panting and scanning the area with glowing eyes.

Alessandro and I haven't moved, both of us transfixed by Xander putting out the small forest fire—a fire I set with a burst of energy through my hand, which is rapidly warming, leaving behind a deep bone ache that has me clenching and unclenching it.

"What happened?" Heydar pants with his head on a swivel.

Slowly spinning my head to Alessandro, I toss him a wry grin. "Well, funny story. . ." And then we both bend over in hysterics.

" Si, la mia stella, a story to tell!" He laughs and I gasp.

"Yes, I set a fire and stood frozen while Xander put it out."

At the sound of his name in my voice, Xander drops the hose and marches toward me. His chest is heaving, his hands are trembling, and his eyes are frantic. My mouth dries. My heartbeat stops and skitters as his energy hits me like a wave of ions prickling along my skin, pulling at every pore. I take a step away from Alessandro, held immobile in the lightning storm of power radiating off my mate.

A growl thunders from Xander's chest right before he squats down and hauls me into his raging body. I hug my arms around his neck and hook my ankles behind him. He's like a rampant furnace about to explode, muscles straining against his clothes, skin flushed red, heated breath gusting in and out of flared nostrils, and sweat beading along his hairline. All that frenzied tension is not just directed at me but forced into me. "I'm okay, Alexander," I whisper into his ear, crawling higher up his body, wanting to take whatever it is he needs to give me. "I was in no real danger."

No words pass through his tight lips, only snarling growls that prick at my flesh as he presses his face against my neck searching for his bitemark. His breath and lips are steamy and heavy on the piece of my flesh that is his. His ribs expand against mine with a long inhale before I feel the pleasurable sting of his teeth scraping through my flesh, followed by one short clogged roar. My heart seizes, and my hands grab and clutch at his back. " Il mio cuore , I'm here. I'm all right," I assure him, kissing and nuzzling along the side of his neck. His chest rumbles, and mine hums in response. We hold each other until the racing of his heart settles. "I'm all right, mate," I repeat.

Xander huffs a grunt, pulling his head back from my neck and slowly setting me down on my feet. My hands move to his hips. His fiery eyes are locked on mine, and his hands encase the sides of my neck, his thumbs brushing the areas he healed from the attack at Castle Island. He clenches his jaw and tersely asks, "Alessandro, what determines the force of the energetic whip my mate just cast?" My brows furrow in confusion, not understanding what Xander's getting at but not breaking our stare either.

Alessandro clears his throat and replies, "The intensity of emotion put into the energetic spool."

Xander nods and glides one hand up to brace my jaw. He arches a brow. "And what level of intensity did my mate just express?" My teeth grind, and my eyes narrow on Xander's gorgeous face, while his gaze holds mine in smug challenge. And thanks to the new hold, I can't look away. Tosser.

"You are molto perspicace , Xander." Alessandro hums a short laugh. " Si, la duchessa's emotions were very high, very strong."

Xander bends down and brings us nose-to-nose. "You are not here. You are not all right." His unflinching eyes hold a startling glacial rigidity while he hisses, "Do not lie to me. Do not lie to yourself. And stop hiding from me. We are well past that, Wilhelmina."

The exhaustion from the emotionally fueled shifter whip falls over me like a heavy afghan, and I no longer have the energy or the desire to distance myself from him, to keep my walls up—or my head for that matter. My forehead drops to Xander's chest, and my hands grip his hoodie. With that small gesture, his entire demeanor changes. The hard hold on my neck softens to a supportive hug. His taut muscles relax, offering me comfort. And fuck does he feel good.

With my mouth shoved against his chest, I mumble a whine. "There's nothing to do about it, Xander. It's all ridiculous, about things that had to happen, because either you had no other real option or the latter would have been worse. I'm trying to close them down and shut them off, but . . ." I sniffle. "They keep coming up, and you've got enough going on. I don't want to burden you or our pack-mates with them."

One of Xander's arms stays wrapped around my back, while the other strokes my hair. He kisses the top of my head. "I can't have you pulling away and hiding like you have been. It doesn't matter if you think your feelings are irrational or not: you ignoring them hasn't stopped them from affecting us." My response is a noncommittal shrug and burrowing my face further into his chest. Then he slices a gash through my heart when he whispers in a strained voice, "You're not only avoiding the feelings, you're avoiding me. Your protection feels like a punishment." Ouch.

"Perhaps that is good for tonight, Duchessa, " Heydar softly suggests from somewhere to my left. I turn my head on Xander's chest and look at Heydar. He's standing behind Annabelle, hands on her shoulders, with her leaning into him. He looks down at Annabelle, and she cranes her head back to him. They share a silent conversation before she nods, and Heydar's dark eyes meet mine. "We received the announcement of Xander's new position as l'alfa from the Shifter High Council this morning, and Annabelle let us know about the article regarding his new role for his father's former businesses." He confesses, "Perhaps your feelings aren't as unreasonable as you think."

Of course there was some sort of official announcement about him becoming the new alpha. I just didn't think it'd happen this fast. I don't want to deal with any of this shit. I only just started my life with my mates, and he's already being pulled away. I want to hold on to him, keep him with me, and be us. Just us.

I gripe and grumble a bunch of nonsensical sounds under my breath while stepping out of Xander's hold and yanking the hem of his sweatshirt out. Squatting down, I lower myself enough to get my head under his hoodie and proceed to burrow my way up until I'm completely and utterly surrounded by pine and cloves. My arms wrap around his naked waist, and my head rests on his warm flesh. I hear several chuckles and giggles, but they quickly become background noise to the steady beat of Xander's heart. His arms hold me through his hoodie, and his chest begins to rumble. My fox hums in contentment, making a note to burrow in more often with all of them.

I don't say anything. All I do is take deep inhales of my mate's scent and melt into him, into my Alexander. "My Alexander," I declare in a hitched voice against his chest, snuggling into him. I feel Xander's chest expand against my cheek. I inhale and repeat, "My Alexander. Mine." My fox hums louder, drowning out everything except what exists within my little Alexander den. My eyes become droopy, and my soul settles like it hasn't in days, finally surrounded by my mate.

"Always yours, Wilhelmina, forever," Xander vows. And I yawn, " Sempre , Alexander. Sempre ."