hapter 22
I settle into my office. This is the office Dorian gave me just a few feet away from his. It’s is a little boo close for comfor. Right across from his, just so he can fucking watch me whenever he wants. Like a cat with a mouse. It’s not subtle, but then again, neither is he.
How typical of him.
The walls are dark, heavy wood paneling that feels more like a cage than a workspace. The faint scent of pine and leather lingers in the air, constant reminder of him, like Tcan’t even escape when he’s not here.
4 just another day, or at least it should be I had half a mind to ask Dorian about his thoughts and his preference on the Chief Beta candidates because I would bet my money Scott wouldn’t be able to pass about half of the qualities needed, but of course, he wasn’t in his office.
I foror my eyes away from his door, that massive slab of oak that’s been shut all day, and back to the paperwork scattered across my desk. The faint golden light from the setting sun seeps in through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor, but it does nothing to warm the place. It’s just as cold as the man who ownIS IT
For thepowernal Alpha who’s been
en all over
over me since I returned; you’d think he’d at least have the decency to pop in more often. Yet he’s not here.
And maybe that should feel like a relief, but instead, it’s gnawing at me. What the hell is wrong with me! I should be glad he’s not around, not feeling … off. I don’t know what to call this Annoyancer Anxiety God, maybe I’ve gotten too used to his suffocating presence.
He probably off playing hero somewhere–may be for his little Amara and his child. My stomach twists a little at the thought of their happy family, but I shove it down. No use letting my mind wander into that territory. I’ve long forgotten them the moment I stepped out of this pack five
I push away from the desk, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension building in my neck. The dock’s ticking toward the end of the day, and I should be relieved I should be grateful for the quiet. But instead, my eyes flick to his door again, and this time. I can’t stop myself. I get up, the sound of my pumpsmutted by the thick rug underfoot, and cross the hallway
I knock. Once. Iwice silence.
The faint scent of him still clings to the space between the doors. That dark, earthy smell that used to send a shiver down my spine. Now it’s just ä reminder of everything I hate.
Fuck it
I open the door, peering inside. His office is immaculate, of course. A Large mahogany desk dominates the center of the room, papers neatly stacked in a way that makes me roll my eyes. The leather chair pushed back as if he stood up and walked away just moments ago. But the place is empty. He’s not here, and the knot of something I refuse to name tightens in my chest.
the hell could be keeping him away? Dorian doesn’t just disappear. He lovers. Always. I’m used to the hovering by now, used to feeling his
JEI DOING Even when I wish I didn’t
Before I can dwell on it, the sound of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I turn stepping back into the hall, and nearly collide into one of the people i umerthought I would come tu ser again after a long time: “Matias.” I called, my voice soft with nostalgia. Dorian’s Beta, Matias. Ginger tuur burly my eyes raked him up and down–lingering on the familiar scar across his left eye. I used to tease him about that, letting a smal muuge—a child back in a war we’re both in, scratch him simply because he’s too soft to hurt a kid. It feels like ages since I last saw him and seeing hun, again sends a tige wave of hostalgia and pain through me.
“Where Donan“” The question slips out before I can catch myself, too sharp too concerned for someone I supposedly despise
Matias’s gaze lingers on me for a beat too long, and her the hesitation in his eyes. Like he’s
e’s deciding how much to tell me. Finally, he lets out a sigh. “He’s not in the pack right now. The Black Moon Packdeclareil war on us. Dorian’s been out there, belting. It’s been… Intense.“
War. My stomach drops. I swallow the sudden rise of panic, but in lingers, tightening around my throat. Fucking hell, Dorian. Always throwing
“And if you need anything.” Matias a
adds, crossing his arms like he’s bracing for my reaction. “Dorian said you can ask me.”
1 telina at him. Matiasoffering help feels strange–off. It’s been a long time since we’ve been anything close to friends. He was there when Dorian threw me out, standing silent, obedient like the Beta he is. He didn’t have the power to fight for me back then. And now? He’s offering to help
Calase Dorian told him to
biche did. I know I should hate Dorian, and I do. Hot the thought of him out there, lighting a war, makes my heartache. I hate that I care. I hate that despite everything. Estill don’t want him to get hun
“Thanks” I mumble, watching as he strides away. shudding steps begin to fill the bulls.
1/2
me alone with
my thoughts. Maisav didn’t walk away long enough before the sound of
Chapter 22
Before I can say anything the doors to the parkhouse burst open, and a gust of cold air sweeps in, carrying the smell of blood and sweat. The sharp voices of warmors follow, and then I see it one of them being carried in, body limp, blood–soaked.
My heart stutters. It’s him. It’s fuucking Dorian
Without thinking. I run my boots pounding against the stone floor as I push through the small crowd gathering around the injured warrior. My pulse roars in my ears, my breath coming in shallow. panicked gasps. Why the hell am I running toward hirm? I hate him. I hate him. But if he’s hurt–if something’s happened–1 can’t… I can’t-
“Dorian!” I call out, voice shaking, barely recognizing the sound of my own panic.
Iskid to a stop beside the stretcher, breath catching in my throat. But when I look down, it’s not him. The man bleeding out in front of me isn’t Dorian. It’s one of his beta among lots, bleeding from a nasty gash across his chest, pale and barely conscious, but not Dorian. Not the man who’s supposed to be untouchable, indestructible. Relief slams into me so hard I nearly stumble. I choke out a breath, pressing a hand to my chest like 1 can steady my heart through sheer will.
It’s not him. He’s not the one bleeding out on the floor. Thank fuck
But as the relief washes over me, so does confusion. Why the hell do I care this much? I hate him. I shouldn’t be this fucking worried. I shouldn’t be running like a mad woman at the thought of him being hurt. But I was. And that terrifies me more than anything
Matias steps up beside me, eyes flicking between me and the soldier. He says nothing, but the tension in the air between us speaks volumes. He can see through me like he always has, but neither of us says a word. He knows. He fucking knows.
He too, knows that deep down, beneath the anger, the bitterness, the layers of hurt we both know I don’t want to see him broken. Not like this. I let out a slow breath, shaking my head at myself, Stupid. So fucking stupid.
“What happened?” I ask, my voicer rough, forcing the panic down as I gesture toward the wounded man.
Manus rubs a hand over his face, sighing deeply. The fights are brutal. They’re pushing harder than we expected. Dorian’s been right in the thick
Of course, he has, Dorian always throws himself headfirst into the chaos. And I’m always left behind, trying to pick up the pieces. I let out a slow breath, my fingers trembling slightly as I watch the Dusk Howler Pack’s medics drag the pack warrior down the hall, blood smearing the stone floors behind him. I can’t shake the image, the what–it’s crawling under
my
“I’m going back to my office, I mutter, turning on my heel, not waiting for Matias to say anything else. “Let me know if anything changes.”
I don’t look back. I don’t trust myself to. My hands still shake as I push open my other door and collapse into my chair. The shadows are longer now, the room dimmer, colder. And as much as I want to shove these feelings down, to bury them beneath the hate I hold for him, I can’t shake the knot in my chest.
Not for the relief that comes when I hear Dorian’s still out there. Not for the dread that settles in when I remember that war has a way of taking things: Taking people.
And I don’t know if I’m ready to lose him.
