12. Elliot

Red rubs absently along her chest, and my eyes hone in on the movement. It's not the first time this evening that she's rubbed her small hand back and forth against the spot. My gut clenches, and my skin heats.

"Princess, what's the matter?" Hunter asks, his forehead furrowed and his lips turned down into a frown.

"I'm good," she replies, stopping the movement and sipping her water. She leans back in her chair, where she's snuggled in at our worn dining room table between Graham and Tristian.

Hunter grunts and gives her the look. It's the one he uses when he's about to take Logan over his knee. It makes me want to open my mouth and confess that it's my fault, that I know why her heart is aching. The urge to mirror her movements, to try to ease the loneliness from the absence of her full bond, is overwhelming.

"It's nothing. I swear. Heartburn, probably from the sauce," she explains, standing and gathering her bowl. "But it was too good not to have seconds." She reaches for Tristan's dishes.

Graham scoops her up under her knees and places her on his lap. The bowl in her hand wobbles, and she lets out a small squeak.

Tristian catches the empty bowl before it lands in her lap, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I've got a tea that will help."

Tristian raises his brow at me, his face sharp and his eyes full of questions. He says my name, his tone laced with an undercurrent of reprimand.

It's as if the wind is knocked out of me. I'm frozen in his assessing gaze. He knows the measure of my worth now, and I'm not a good man. He told me again this morning to open the bond, and I meant to. But when I got home from my afternoon clients and saw that Red was having a good day, I couldn't make myself do it. And now he knows. I want to run from the room but force myself to remain still.

"Can you show me where you put those herbs her aunt Bethany dropped off?" He nods toward the kitchen.

I don't think Tristian has ever been disappointed in me before now, and I hate the feeling. Normally, he radiates calm patience, but I think I've hit the end of his line. My skin feels as if it's on fire as I gather the dishes around me and follow him to the kitchen. Unaware of the tension, I hear Logan behind me asking about her aunt's visit.

"This morning—" Hunter fills Logan in, but I can only focus on the cold weight of Graham's eyes on my retreat. It's sharp like ice picks, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand.

Tristian has already found the herbs in the kitchen and is busy filling the kettle at the sink. The dishes make a soft clank when I set them on the counter, and he whips around on me.

"Please tell me you've stopped cloaking."

"Doc—" My voice wavers.

His movements are jerky as he turns off the faucet, starts the kettle to boil, and measures out different herbs. Torn in two, I watch as his hands shake.

You pathetic piece of shit. I've never seen a more useless excuse for a boy. Worthless. You'll probably turn out to be an omega.

I clear my throat and swallow the memory of my father, trying again. The words stick, but I force them out. "Can't we let her have today?"

Tristian stands with his back to me. I want to go to him and plead for forgiveness, but I stand frozen.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I know you're scared, El. And I know you think your bond is hurting her. That's a valid fear. I have my own fears, and they're hard to conquer. Some days, they win. I don't pretend to know what it's like to be you. I know you have things you wish you could shield her from. But I think maybe deep down, you're afraid of sharing the depth of her pain too. It's not easy to hold it for our mates without getting lost in their pain. And under different circumstances?—"

The kettle comes to a boil, and Doc doesn't move to turn it off. The steady whistle is a drill, grinding his words into my thick skull. Before I can even process them, he jerks the knob on the stove and turns on me.

Even in his frustration, he asks me with his eyes if he can touch me. It's such a small thing that feels so big. My throat tightens, but I nod. He doesn't move where I expect, his palm gently cupping my cheek.

He looks at me as if he knows everything I want to forget, as though he sees all of me. Tears line his blue eyes, and maybe they're for me. "You don't get to hide. Not this time. But I'm here to help you hold it, and I promise I won't let go." His thumb traces along the scruff of my cheek, and the skin tingles where he touches. "Find a way to open the bond. You don't have to have it all together. There will never be a perfect time. Uncomfortable emotions are always inconvenient. Rip off the Band-Aid. Let us deal with what's underneath. Let us all heal. The longer this goes on, the more it will hurt. And the more dangerous it becomes for all of us."

I let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to let people in."

He gives me a sad smile. "You have to let yourself feel. Close your eyes. I'll be here through it."

My pack's laughter in the other room pushes against me, stifling. What if I open the bond and it throws back all her progress? What if what Tristian said was true and I'm a coward? What if I'm not strong enough to hold her pain again? Is that why I did it? Am I that selfish?

I don't know the answers, and it scares me.I can't answer the question he asked me earlier today either.

"Not tonight. Give her tonight." I step out of Tristian's embrace, and immediately, cold settles in my limbs.

My feet carry me out of the house, then I run. But no matter how fast my feet pound the pavement, I can't seem to outrun who I am.

The house is still litwhen I jog back down the driveway hours later. I take the porch stairs but stop and stare at my pack, watching through the living room window like a creep. Sadie and Logan are snuggled up in Hunter's lap at the end of the oversized couch. Beside them, Graham and Tristian lie wrapped up, spooning. They're watching Princess Bride for what has got to be the millionth time. Graham must say something utterly ridiculous because he and Logan high-five awkwardly. The room fills with laughter. Hunter smacks Graham's head with a pillow while Tristian ducks out of the way.

Even with my feet right outside my door, I'm homesick. The longing and loneliness in my chest are so overpowering, I want to howl. But I stand there, unsure if I should go in. I don't feel worthy enough to call this place home. What more could I add to that beautiful picture? What could she possibly get from having me there? I offer nothing that these men don't already give her.

But I have to try to find a way. I have to. Because I can't lose her or this pack. I brace myself and go inside, determined to open the bond tonight while she sleeps.

"Bear!" Sadie makes a happy sound, hopping off Hunter's lap and flinging herself in my arms. I pick her up, and she straddles my waist, her arms flinging around my neck.

Please, please, don't let me destroy us.

She buries her face in my neck, sucking in my scent, and I do the same. Hers is light and floral today, with that profoundly cozy feeling of pleasurable warmth and quiet rest. She smells of naps and snuggles, which makes me want to lose myself in her arms. She is everything good and safe about the world.

And I'm hurting her by keeping her out.

"You stink," she teases, kissing my jaw.

I play it off. "I needed a run after all those carbs. I'll go shower."

She pulls back and looks me in the eye, her beautiful face pinched in confusion. "Your sweat is catnip. I meant you smell sad. What happened?"

How can I ever tell her what I've done?

"I broke something, and I gotta fix it. I'll explain more later." Even though I ache to hold her, to join them, I set her back down.

She looks at me with a curious expression that I'm afraid to read.

I back out of the room."Let me shower. I'll join y'all in a bit."

I retreat. I always retreat.

Upstairs, I turn the water too hot and scrub myself in rough movements, trying to clean off the stench of my failures. When I can't avoid it anymore, I hastily towel off and throw on a pair of sweats.

I return to the living room to find the pack arranged like before. Graham tracks my movement to the armchair in the corner, but no one comments on my appearance. Red, however, gets up and crawls into my lap.She snuggles against my chest, her arms looping around my neck. Her delicate fingers skirt up and down my hairline.

"Whatever it is, Bear, I love you. It will be all right."

She can't know that. None of us can. But I let her reassurance soothe me anyway. It makes me the worst kind of alpha for taking comfort when I'm the cause. My stomach is in knots, but she relaxes against me anyway.

Love you more, Red.

I can't manage the words, not after what I've done and what I've got to do. But I wish it was true. I want her to feel so loved that she never doubts it. And I want to be the kind of alpha who shows her.

I sit with her in my arms, twisted up inside until she falls asleep, and the movie ends. Around me, my pack transitions to our bedtime routine. Graham and Tristian gather cups and return to the kitchen. Hunter locks up while Logan rights the living room. I don't move, wishing I could hold off a little more.

When he's finished his nightly patrol, Hunter comes back in and stands in front of me, his head cocked in question. "Want me to take her?"

I shake my head and stand, following him up the stairs. It feels like a funeral march.

My packmates get ready for bed, their idle chatter dampening some of my restlessness while I lie with her in the nest. In pairs, they join us. Hunter turns off the lights. Everyone snuggles in close, their low conversations becoming a background hum until Hunter starts up his purr. My chest stays quiet.

I lie there as the shadows on the wall move, and the sounds of my pack settle like a blanket around me. But no matter how much warmth surrounds me, ice freezes in my veins.

When I think everyone is asleep, and I'm so lonely and afraid I might get swallowed up into nothingness, Tristian reaches his hand over Sadie's back and clasps mine. The touch is an earthquake rumbling through me.

I turn, my face only inches from his in the darkness. It's easier, knowing he's there even though I can't see him clearly in the shadows.

"I'm right here, El. We all are, and we love you."

His words are soft, but they feel deep and powerful. I'm not alone. I can do this and face the consequences. They will make sure she is okay. Me too. If I let them.

I find Red's bond, a little spark that I've let burn too low. At first, I don't know what to do.

But then Tristian says, "It's all right. I've got you. Relax and let her in."

So I close my eyes and stop trying. Nothing happens. Minutes pass. Then that ball of light grows bigger in my chest. It's a sun shower in a meadow of peonies, equal parts happiness and rain. The heat of Tristian's palm in mine is enough to anchor me against the onslaught.

It hurts. It hurts so much that I don't know if I can stand it. Every fear is made real as the bond burns in my chest, catching fire to everything I am. But it isn't her pain or mine that hurts. It's love, so big and bright that it cuts into the darkest corners of me. She's sound asleep on my chest, but her beautiful swirling fire is alive inside me again, replacing that hollowed-out place.

My body is tight, the sensations so uncomfortable in their newness. I'm a raw nerve, all feeling.

"What is that?" I choke out, unable to recognize my voice.

Tristain squeezes my hand. And then Graham clasps on.

"They're tears, El," Doc says, his voice so smooth and rich that it puts me at ease. "Let them come."