7. Elliot

The lock disengages with a shrill buzz, and I pull back the door and step into an inferno. April in Knotty Pines is a mixed bag of wet, cold, and random days of full heat, but the temperature in this reception area is stifling.

The beta receptionist, a new one by the looks of it, waves me over with a friendly smile. When I step up to the desk, I realize the cause of the heat.

She notices my gaze, pointing with her chin in the direction of the electric heaters. "I'm cold-natured and that wind coming in from the doorway keeps me sick. I'm sorry about that."

I nod and sign in, pulling out my identification cards and handing them over.

"All right, Elliot, have a seat. He's finishing up and will be with you shortly." She hands me back my cards with a curt nod, lowering her gaze.

That tends to happen. Folks always start out nice. But I'm big and an alpha and I don't talk when it can be avoided. That makes most people nervous.

I stuff myself into the too-small chair in the tiny waiting room.

This weekend proved that our omega needs us now more than ever. If I can't figure out how to be better for her, then I don't deserve her. And the thing I want even less than being in this office is a world where Red isn't mine.

I plant my elbows on my knees, bouncing in place. My skin crawls. The door opens and Dr. Bash steps out. I'm moving before he's welcomed me.

"In a hurry today?" The older alpha chuckles and follows me into his sparse office.

I've been seeing Dr. Bash on and off since the first year I arrived in town. After I got word about Lance and Bono, the night terrors and flashbacks were so rough I would have tried anything. But it was Hunter who got me here.

He came to my room one morning after a particularly bad night. He didn't comment that I was laid out on the floor covered in sweat. Instead he said he was going to see a therapist that afternoon cause his head was all fucked over Lance, and if I wanted, I could come for an appointment too.

That wasn't what got me off that floor. It was what he said at the door on his way out. "My dad says alphas gotta learn to cry, but I'm not good at it. So, I need help."

I'd never heard an alpha talk like that before. And Hunter is an alpha's alpha, someone I knew others looked to. He was rough and real, but good to his core. Like his cousin Lance had been beneath all his blustering bullshit.

In my world, an alpha talked with his fist, not his feelings. Growing up, when I cried, I got something worse to cry about. It only took a broken arm for me to learn it's best to stay quiet. The only other place I'd ever known was the army, and soldiers sure as shit don't cry. So when Hunter said that to me, I sat there stunned as he walked away.

But the next week, I went.

Only thing is, I've still never learned to cry. And stepping back through this door feels like a huge risk. What happens if Dr. Bash confirms what I already know? I'm damaged. Broken. What happens if I can't fix it?

"It's nice to see you again, Elliot."

"Dr. Bash."

He lets out a soft grunt that might be a laugh when I don't return the nicety. I find my way to the sofa in his office.

He sits down behind the desk, leaning back in his chair and resting his calf on his thigh. "Since the last time I saw you, you've found yourself mated. That's something you weren't sure you could ever accomplish."

Even on the large couch, I find it hard to get comfortable, my foot bouncing again. I force myself to stop and look the silver-haired alpha in the eye."That's why I'm here."

He nods. "Tell me about your pack's omega."

I try to gather my thoughts, but I don't know how to explain Sadie. My pack gives me a sense of stability and family I've only ever had glimpses of before. But Sadie, she makes the whole world come alive, makes me want to live life instead of playing it safe on the sidelines.

"By the look on your face, I'd say your omega is pretty special," Dr. Bash says.

"She is. Red is everything." Red is the name I gave her the first time we met. She thinks it's because of the color of her hair, but it's because she lit a fire in my soul.

"Is she your pack's scent match?"

I nod, thinking about the first time I met her. "Her scent sent me straight into a panic attack."

Dr. Bash's eyes soften in compassion. "Why do you think that is?"

I turn away to stare at the opposite wall. "Because she smelled like everything good that I knew I shouldn't let myself have. That if I wasn't strong enough, I would destroy her too."

"Is that what's happened?"

"You want me to say no."

"I don't want you to say anything, Elliot." His voice is sure. "I want to listen."

"You've seen the news?" It's a question, but the whole world knows who my Red is after the last couple months.

"Yes."

"I've closed off the bond. As much as I can." I stare at the wall, unwilling to see his face. I think his judgment or his kindness could equally wreck me.

"Why did you do that?" he asks, tone still so infuriatingly neutral.

"So I don't hurt her."

"How would your bond do that?"

I don't answer.

"Do you think it's possible it might hurt her to not have your bond open?"

My heart aches where her bond lives, a tiny cloud living in my chest. "I can't care for her. Not like she needs or deserves."

"Did you reject her? Have you been violent? Neglectful?—"

A low, menacing growl escapes my chest and I turn on him.

"That's a no." Dr. Bash chuckles, completely unaffected by my display.

"That's not a no. My response is part of the problem." I bristle at the way he seems to be unconcerned. I'm dangerous. Why doesn't he see that?

Dr. Bash shrugs. "That's an alpha responding to an indirect threat against his mate. I'm more curious why you believe it's part of the problem."

"My bond is toxic. The nightmares have come back. I've been having headaches. I'm hyped up and jumpy. I could hurt her."

"That's a real risk with PTSD in soldiers. We've discussed that in the past. What is the key risk factor?"

"Anger."

"No, Elliot. High levels of anger. Anger is an emotion like any other. All people experience anger. People who are impacted by high levels of anger are more at risk for aggression. You have been assessed for anger. Do you believe we need to reassess?"

I shake my head.

"I don't believe your bond is toxic, but I understand that is a very real fear for you. Is she afraid of your bond? Or has she mentioned having difficulty managing your connection?"

"No, but she's not doing so well either."

"With all that's going on, I imagine most anyone would be struggling."

"Maybe, but she needs support, not my past creeping up."

"Perhaps your past could help her. You've come a long way, Elliot. I believe you're capable of caring for her in all the ways you want. Maybe letting her in and talking about your past will help her be able to do the same? Have you been able to be intimate with your omega?"

I lean forward, burying my face between my hands. "Yes. And I sleep in the nest."

"That's an area of growth. Let's pause and take a moment to?—"

"Yeah, no shit. My dick works. Throw a party or whatever later. But be straight with me. Can I keep her safe?"

Dr. Bash waits until I meet his eyes. "Yes, Elliot. But I'm going to ask you to open the bond. And I'm going to need you to talk to her, and your pack, honestly about what's happening."

I blow out a long breath. "I need help."

"Okay. Let's lay out the tools you have at your disposal. Then we can determine a plan for how we're best going to manage your symptoms."

We spend the remainder of my session coming up with a plan. I don't feel better, not yet, but it's a spoonful of hope. That's enough for now.

When we're finished, I haul ass home. I find Red in her nest, asleep on Hunter while he purrs. Logan works quietly on his laptop next to them.

"You didn't miss anything. She's been asleep most of the day," Logan says without looking up.

I know life has to go on. People got to work. But I hate that I had to leave her. "Scoot over. I need?—"

Hunter nods without making me say it, kissing her forehead while I get situated and climb in the bed.

"I'll go start on dinner," Hunter says, passing Sadie off to me. The two of us are careful so we don't disturb her.

She looks so small and pale in my arms that I want to figure out how to keep the world at bay and make sure she never goes through something like this again.

"Alpha, don't take this the wrong way, but please wait until Tristian gets home to start anything in the kitchen," Logan says.

I ignore my packmates as they fuss about dinner. I guess I could help. Tristian has taught me enough that I can make most anything, but I can't stomach the idea of letting her go. The moment she's back in my arms, the world becomes more vibrant, and my body relaxes.

My purr rumbles and I breathe her in, content to hide away in our little bubble. I may not be able to do everything I need to, but this, this I can do. I hope for now it's enough.