Adele gasps. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Rafe. How old were you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. My parent’s bodies, red gashes–the wounds opened by their attackers—marking their faces and hands… “I was fifteen. Lance was eleven. I kept us together in foster care until I could get custody of him. That’s why I went into the military—to provide for him.” It wasn’t human foster care–another pack took us in, but I still had to fight to keep Lance and I together. He was the only family I had left.
Adele strokes her hand over my shoulder and down my arm. “That’s a huge trauma. I can see how it would leave a big mark.”
I grunt. I never considered my need to keep those around me safe a sign of dysfunction—a scar in action. I mean, I’m alpha. It’s literally my duty to protect the pack. But the idea of not having this constant life-or-death seizing around my heart makes my eyes burn.
Like some alternate me—a healthier, healed version, might be filled with peace and power rather than trauma and the need for the most brutal revenge.
“I’ve been seeking closure for a long time,” I rasp into the darkness.
“Closure…I’m guessing that doesn’t mean a lot of therapy to help you forgive.”
“No. It means revenge.” Closure means the slow, painful death of whoever killed our parents. The memory of Gabriel Dieter dangling that information rises to the surface and makes me grit my teeth. Does he really know who killed them? Was it him? I intend to hunt that man–or whatever he is–down and find out. “I want justice.”
“My mémère used to say that you don’t need closure with anybody but yourself. That’s the true secret to power.”
“Mmm.” I’m too satisfied from watching my mate come to openly disagree.
Her laugh is low and husky. “I know, I never subscribed to it, either. But what if you could just be your own closure? Let yourself off the hook for seeking revenge. Stop hanging onto that event and letting it continue to shape your life.”
I’m suddenly bone tired. The weight of needing to protect everyone in my life and avenge my parents has caught up to me. There’s been so much death in my life. All the ghosts of my past swim before my eyes. My fallen brothers-in-arms. The men, human men, who served with me and died by my side. My parents. I failed them. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t protect them. The shifters in my ops pack are mine to lead and protect. To keep alive.
“Just let me fix your tires.”
Adele hesitates, and I think she’s going to keep making me crazy, but she agrees. “Okay, but you’re taking the cost out of my wages, assuming I still have a job.”
“You still have a job. So long as you stop flirting with Channing.”
She lets out a sleepy laugh. “You are ridiculous. Why don’t you just try flirting, yourself?”
“I prefer making you mad.”
“Ridiculous,” she murmurs, but her breath has deepened, and she drifts off to sleep in my arms.
Fuck. I don’t know how I’ll make it through the night with her in my bed.
7
Rafe
“So did you mark her?”
Channing’s big dumb face is ridiculously eager when I walk into the garage at six a.m. Even Deke looks up from where he’s working on replacing Adele’s tires.
I rub my face. I couldn’t sleep last night trying to keep my wolf on leash. This morning, I was out of bed by five. If I stayed and watched Adele sleep, I’d end up fucking her again. And probably mark her. That’s the last thing I need to do.
I needed to get away from Adele, and I didn’t have the heart to wake her. She’s still sleeping in my bed.
Where she should be, my wolf points out smugly.
“No,” I answer shortly. “Of course not. I’m not going to mark Adele or claim her as a mate.” I emphasize this with a kick to a piece of metal that happens to be in my way–the stupid ‘art sculpture’. It goes spinning out of the open garage door and bounces off the pavement onto the lawn.
“Easy.” Channing raises his hands. He and Deke exchange glances as if silently consigning themselves to walking on eggshells around me.
“She is your mate, though?” Deke asks.
I fold my arms across my chest. “You wanna talk about this? Share our feelings?”
“Absolutely.” Deke puts down his wrench and mirrors my position. “If she’s your mate–and it’s obvious she is–then you’ve got to claim her.”
Yes! My wolf shouts.
“No.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Deke points out. “You’re an alpha wolf. You’ll go moon mad.”
Fuck, Deke’s right. Channing is crouched behind Adele’s car, replacing her tires and removing himself from the conversation at the same time. Smart. My wolf doesn’t see Deke as a threat because he’s already mated.