CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

“I never asked you to come here! Get out of my home! All of you!”

“We can’t do that until you get yourself under control, Devlin,” said Tate.

“We’re here to help,” Dani told him, her voice as soothing as a lullaby.

“I don’t want your damn help, bitch!” Devlin growled.

Bree winced, remaining outside the open door of her pride mate’s apartment as she tried to get a feel for what was going on inside. She’d been sitting in her pjs on the sofa, fighting to keep her eyes open as she watched a movie, when she’d received a call from Devlin’s neighbor. The old woman hadn’t said much more than that she’d taken his mate and children into her apartment because he’d “lost his damn mind.”

“You don’t give a shit how I’m feeling, Dani!” he accused. “You just want to calm my ass down with your omega voodoo.”

“Your children are frightened,” said Dani, still calm. “Your mate is worried for you.”

“See? For you, it’s all about how they feel, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not. I’m just trying to remind you that although you had a hard hit today, you still have a lot to be grateful for. Your family needs you.”

“I let them down,” Devlin said, bitter as tart. “Why would they need me? Tate will tell you all about what a bad enforcer I’d make—after all, he’s the one who told me I didn’t pass the training.”

And now Bree understood. Devlin’s older brothers and father were all enforcers. This was the third time he had failed to make the cut, and it had to hurt like a motherfucker. His pride was probably in tatters. Devlin wasn’t a guy who’d respond well to someone trying to baby him—it would just prick his pride more. Dani should know that.

Feeling bad for the guy, Bree strolled into the apartment and followed the sounds of voices into the kitchen. All heads turned as she entered. Devlin was standing near the sink with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Tate, Dani, and Luke were at the other side of the room, giving him space, ensuring he didn’t feel crowded or trapped—that would only send his inner cat into a frenzy.

Keeping her expression bored, Bree folded her arms as she looked at Devlin. “So … what the fuck crawled up your ass and died?”

Dani gasped and made a move toward Bree, but Tate held her back.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” asked Devlin, a fake grin on his face. “I didn’t make enforcer. Again.”

Bree blinked. “That’s it?”

He paused with the bottle halfway to his mouth. “That’s it?” he echoed.

“Don’t get me wrong, I get that that sucks mega balls. My dad failed the training, too, you know. He didn’t try again. It hurt his pride too much, I think. So I respect you for not giving up. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass here, I’m being honest. Many dominant males would give up.”

Devlin slowly lowered the bottle but didn’t speak.

“I remember the night my dad was turned down for the position. He came home pissed. I’ve never seen him that angry. He got drunk. Smashed a bottle against the wall. My mom freaked. She told him to get out and not come back until he made his peace with one simple thing.”

Devlin frowned. “What?”

“See, she felt that he’d only failed the training because his heart wasn’t in it; that the sole reason he’d trained to be an enforcer was that it was expected of him by his family.”

Devlin’s eyes briefly slid to the side.

“Maybe it’s not what you really want for yourself and so it’s subconsciously holding you back during training. Or maybe I’m wrong, I don’t know. If it is truly what you want, there’s no actual sense in you giving up. But, of course, you can drown in alcohol, whine like a girl, and lose the respect of your family. That’s always an option. Or you can build a fucking bridge and get over it. Ask Tate what it is that you failed at, work on it, and then begin training again. I’ll leave you to decide.” She turned to leave. “It’ll be interesting to see what you do.” She only made it three steps when she heard his voice.

“Bree?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Yes?”

Devlin rubbed at his nape. “Would you go talk to my family? I upset them.”

“No,” she said. “But I’ll go if you come with me.”

He grimaced. “I’m not in a fit state right now.”

“So let me help with that. Let me help clear your mind so you can figure out what you really want. You can’t do it like this, and it’ll only distress your mate if she feels helpless while you suffer. So if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for her and your kids.”

He sighed, staring at the bottle in his hand as if he wasn’t sure where it came from.

“I’ve got shit to do, Devlin. If we’re gonna do this, it needs to be now.”

Sighing again, he set the bottle on the counter. “All right,” he mumbled.

Bree turned to face him as he approached. She put her hand on his arm. “I have your consent?”

He gave a curt nod. “Yes.”

She dropped her shields. Anger. Shame. Bitterness. Guilt. Self-condemnation. The feelings slammed into her chest. She gritted her teeth as she rode out the heartburn-like pain while his thoughts invaded her mind.

… let them all down …

… should have tried harder …

… no clue what to do next …

Just as the heartburn sensations faded away, she slammed up her shields. Bree watched as he took a shaky breath. “I can give you a sense of peace,” she offered.

His brows drew together. “I don’t deserve that after what I just did.”

“The fact that you’d say that shows that you do, but it’s your choice. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Knowing that right then wasn’t the time to push him on what he truly wanted regarding the enforcer position, she said, “Now let’s go see your mate and kids.”

“Perhaps I can help,” suggested Dani, her expression oddly blank. “Bree’s done enough for tonight.”

“Or we could go together,” Bree proposed. To her total surprise, Dani agreed.

All three of them headed to Devlin’s neighbor’s apartment. Inside, they talked a little with his family and worked to put them at ease. It was another hour before the females left the building. By then, Bree’s head was pounding. She’d need to earth when she got home for sure, but there’d be no guaranteeing that the pain would leave. Extracting negative emotions from people never failed to give her a headache.

As she descended the stairwell, her limbs heavy and her shoulders drooping, it struck Bree that she and Dani had worked well together—her straightforwardness had complemented Dani’s softness in a way she’d bet neither of them would have expected. They’d made a good team.

“You did well tonight, helping Delvin,” said Dani as they stood in the parking lot.

“Thanks. So did you.” Eager to go home, take some pain meds, and fall into bed, Bree went to bid her goodnight, but then Dani spoke again.

“Listen, I’ve had a few sessions with Mateo. He told me what you two argued about.”

Just like that, the little “buzz” Bree had felt at how productively she and Dani worked together fizzled away. “Did he?”

“He regrets the things he said. He wants to make it right.” Dani paused. “What if I had a session with you both? You could resolve it once and for all.”

Oh hell no. “Maybe one day I’ll forgive him,” she said, probing her throbbing head—it felt as if she had a band stretched tight around it. “But not yet.”

Impatience flitted across Dani’s face. “That’s immature, Bree. Holding grudges is pointless. As omegas, it’s our duty to ensure peace within the pride. Play your part.”

She was a pallas cat—holding grudges came naturally to her. “You’re wasting your time with this. Let it go.”

“Show a little sensitivity, would you? The guy’s miserable. We’ve all been rejected; we know how it feels. He doesn’t have his best friend to hang out with and make him feel better, because she’s not only the very person who rejected him, she won’t even speak to him.”

“I see you’re trying to appeal to my better nature. Wasn’t it you who once told me that I didn’t have one?”

Dani’s mouth tightened. “Don’t try to change the subject. We’re talking about Mateo here. I get that he upset you, but people say things they don’t mean when they’re hurt or angry—you know this.”

“He really didn’t tell you everything. Doesn’t surprise me.” He was too much of a damn coward.

“As a matter of fact, he did tell me everything. It wasn’t easy for him, but he did.”

Bree closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she just did not have the energy or tolerance for this shit. “No, he didn’t. He used you. He figured he could get you to force a meeting between me and him, so he told you just enough, and he worked on gaining sympathy from you. Which obviously worked like a treat.”

Dani lifted her chin. “I would have known if he’d been manipulating me.”

“Did he let you read him?”

“He said he wouldn’t be comfortable with that.”

Bree gave a weak snicker. “I’ll bet he did.”

Dani planted her hands on her hips. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you here. I don’t like that you don’t have one of your best friends in your life. If something happened to him, you’d regret not hearing him out. He’s in pain, Bree. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Don’t you care at all that you could ease that pain just by talking to him?”

“You’re the primary. If anyone can ease his pain, it’s you.” And if anyone could ease the pain in Bree’s head that had now spread to the back of one eye, making it feel like it was being stabbed, she’d kiss their damn feet.

“He won’t let me help him that way.”

“Ask yourself why that might be. Better yet, ask him what he did that night, Dani. If he tells you the truth, I’ll speak with him. But I’ll bet you every cent I have that he won’t.”

“He already told me everything he said.”

“But not what he did.”

The glare slipped from Dani’s face just as her hands slipped from her hips. “What did he do?” she asked, her voice softening. “What did he do, Bree?”

“Something I’d rather not talk about.”

Her eyes flared with what Bree would love to believe was concern, but she very much doubted it. Dani briefly touched her arm. “You can tell me.”

“Like I said, ask Mateo.”

“Fuck Mateo. If he hurt you, I want to know about it. What did he do? You can trust me. You know that.”

Bree almost laughed. “Sad as it is, no, I don’t know that.” Before the other omega could in any way respond, Bree walked away. The pounding in her head seemed to worsen with every tired step she took, until it honestly felt like someone was battering her skull with a sledgehammer while also ramming an ice pick in the back of her eye. She placed a hand on her head and exerted pressure on it, but it didn’t help.

She didn’t switch on the lights when she entered her house—that would only make it worse. She went to the kitchen, swallowed some pain pills, kicked off her shoes, and then stepped barefoot onto the outdoor deck.

Her backyard was pretty with its wild rose bushes, decorative pots, novelty planters, curvy step stone path, and the rockery in the corner—none of which she appreciated right then while in so much pain.

Too fatigued to stand, she sat on the grass and rested her throbbing head on her bent knees. Purging the mix of varying energies was easy. Her system naturally released them into the ground below her—as if her entire body had taken one giant exhale. It left her feeling lighter and calmer. But just as she’d worried, the pain didn’t ease.

Bleh.

Heading back inside, she traipsed up the stairs and went to her bedroom. She didn’t bother undressing or even flicking back the covers; she just curled up into a ball on the bed and closed her eyes, tempted to beg for death. Thanks to the headache, it might take a little time for her to drift off, but she was so dog-tired that it hopefully wouldn’t take too long.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there—probably only ten minutes or so—when she sensed a presence in the room. The only reason she didn’t panic was that she recognized Alex’s scent.

“Go away,” she slurred, not even bothering to open her eyes.

If he was anyone else, she’d have been stunned that he’d broken into her house and she’d have demanded to know how the hell he managed it. But there was no keeping a wolverine out of anywhere they wanted to be; they often went into people’s homes uninvited to raid fridges and kitchen cupboards. It was natural, albeit irritating, behavior for them.

She hadn’t seen much of him over the past few days. He’d nipped into Pot of Gold occasionally, but he hadn’t spoken much to her. He’d watched her, though. Closely. Too closely. Whenever she’d met that gaze, his broody eyes had stared into hers in a way that was far too intimate. It made her skin tingle in awareness every time.

The mattress dipped beside her, and a hand lightly stroked her hair. She almost flinched in surprise. Alex very rarely touched her. When he did, his touches were always fleeting and impersonal. Never deliberate or … soothing. She wouldn’t have thought he had it in him to be soothing. Or that he’d ever care to be, for that matter.

“Heard you left the apartment complex looking like you were in pain,” he said quietly. “Wanted to check on you. Headache?”

“I’m fine.” Albeit confused that he’d bothered to check on her—he’d never done it before.

“Liar,” he said softly. “Did you have one of those herbal drinks my mom gave you that smell like feet?”

They tasted like feet, too. Her nose wrinkled. “Too tired to make one.”

He left the bed without a word. When he reappeared a few minutes later, his scent was accompanied by the funky smell of, yeah, feet. Ugh.

“Sit up and drink this,” he said. Well, ordered. “I know you don’t like it, but it’ll help.”

Mumbling that he was a bossy bastard, she weakly sat up and downed the herbal drink in one go, barely resisting the urge to vomit it back up.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck off,” she uttered, which made him snort. She sank onto the mattress and curled up in a ball again. She thought he’d leave. He didn’t. He lay on his side and braced his elbow on the pillow next to hers.

She frowned. “What do you—”

“Shh.” He delved a hand into her hair and began to massage her head, digging his fingertips into her scalp with just the rightamount of pressure. “Relax for me,” he whispered.

Okay, this was just weird. Where was the rude-ass, broody male she was used to?

“Woman, stop thinking and relax.”

Ah, there he was. “I’m just surprised you’re here. You don’t normally give a shit what’s happening with someone unless it directly affects you.”

He made a gruff sound. “I detest you a lot less than I detest the rest of the population.”

Bree felt one side of her mouth curve. “Be still, my heart.”

He snorted again. “I don’t like seeing you so wiped out. Don’t like that none of the other omegas have come to check on you. They’re assholes.”

She would have shrugged a nonchalant shoulder if she’d had the energy. “I’m good at taking care of myself.”

“You shouldn’t always have to,” he grumbled. “Now relax.”

Not so simple. But she concentrated on the feel of his fingertips massaging her scalp. It didn’t really do much to ease the pain, but the sensations were a welcome distraction from it. She focused on them, let them comfort her. Thought of nothing but the feel of his fingers moving up, down, clockwise, and anti-clockwise—kneading and gliding and stroking.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep.

He was gone when she woke the next morning.

Shimmying into her black strapless dress later that evening, Bree glanced at herself in the full-length mirror. The smoky eyeshadow worked well with the dress and black lace-up high heels. She’d also gone to work on her hair with the curler, giving it “a little sass,” as Elle referred to it.

Bree was due to meet the redhead in, like, ten minutes at The Tavern, the pride’s hangout. It was only a minute’s walk from her home, so there’d be no need for a cab tonight.

Honestly, she was a little tired after a full day of glossing doors, doorframes, and skirting boards. But as Elle had again helped on the agreement that Bree would meet her for drinks at The Tavern, she really couldn’t get out of it, no matter how exhausted she was.

Ready to leave, she nabbed her purse and headed downstairs. A frown marred her face when she noticed a brown envelope near the front door. After picking it up, her frown deepened. There was no address, no stamp. It didn’t even have her name written on it.

Curious, she tore it open and peeked inside. There was no letter. But something in the corner of the envelope glimmered. Something small.

She tipped the envelope, allowing the small object to fall into her hand. And then the bottom fell out of her stomach. Shock hit her first. Then a wave of anger surged through her, thick and hot. Fucking Bernadette.

Grinding her teeth, Bree clenched her hand tight around the piece of jewelry, tempted to sling it at the wall. She’d always wondered what Bernadette had done with the other half of the necklace that she’d pretended Paxton had in his possession. Well, apparently the woman had kept it. And now she’d given it to Bree.

So, was this a “fuck you for renouncing my son—and oh, by the way, he never really bought you that necklace” message? Had she thought that this would hurt Bree or come as a surprise to her? Or did the woman hope that Bree would believe it was from Paxton and then think he was still alive? Bree snorted. She didn’t believe that any more than she believed he’d bought her the piece of jewelry in the first place.

He’d given her gifts when she was a child on special occasions, but only because it was expected of him. He hadn’t ever seemed to care whether she liked the gifts, and she’d often wondered if his mother had been the one who’d picked them.

Bernadette had probably picked the cards, too. He’d always signed them, “To my little cat,” never, “To Bree.” He’d rarely used her name at all when speaking to her. He’d mostly called her “little cat.” People had thought it a term of affection. It hadn’t felt like one. No, it had felt more like he’d avoided using her name on purpose. Like it helped to keep a barrier between them.

Not that she thought Paxton had felt even a fraction of, well, anything toward her. But his inner cat? Bree had never met the feline, and she’d often wondered if it wasn’t damaged like his human half; if maybe the cat had wanted to be close to her. Paxton wouldn’t have liked that. He would have resented her for it. Would have wanted to keep an emotional ocean between her and his animal.

Although her own cat had sensed that Paxton was her true mate, she hadn’t liked being near him purely because she hadn’t trusted that Bree would be safe with him. But if her feline had met his cat and bonded with it in even a superficial way, it might not have been so simple for the animals to go their separate ways. Maybe Paxton had dealt with that same concern; maybe that was why he’d never introduced her to his own cat.

Opening her hand, Bree glared down at the necklace. Either Bernadette wanted to make a point or to play mind games. It was tempting to confront her, but Bernadette would like that she’d gotten to Bree. And it would encourage her to pull shit like this again.

Bree dropped the necklace back into the envelope, strolled into the living room, and tossed it into the small trash can. There. Done. Now she really did need a drink.