Page 77 of Bitter Discord

“I either didn’t control them well enough or care for them well enough. I didn’t know them well enough or see they were having problems with another werewolf. I have to account for everything. If the pack is large, I have to pick the right people to help me manage all those small moving pieces. Pick the wrong people, and werewolves get missed and end up dead, or someone else does.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the counter. “This was part of the reason I didn’t want a pack while having Carey. I need to be too entrenched with them, too involved.”

“Do you enjoy it? Being an Alpha?”

“Most days, it’s not a negative. It speaks to me. It’s like being a father, a military commander, a therapist, and a boss, all wrapped into one. Sometimes, a favorite uncle, sometimes, the overbearing prison guard.” Heath closed his eyes, a pained smile forming. “I love being an Alpha. I do, and it’s enabled me to do so much for the people I care about.” When his eyes opened. “But some days, like today, I wish it was something I could turn off, but I can’t.

“Arlo might as well be my own son. He’s not. I don’t pretend to be his father, but right now, as his Alpha, while he is in danger, I feel the same as I would if Carey disappeared. I am doing my best not to grow angrier and more scared for his life by the moment, the same way I had to keep my cool when the coup happened and Carey was out in the world by herself. What sort of mood do you think I woke up in those days? Knowing my daughter was running for her life, or even worse, when I learned you were in Dallas, and she wasn’t with you.”

“I see.” Reaching up, I touched his chest with both hands and decided I needed to spell it out for both of us. I wanted to make sure I understood every small facet of this man. I had agreed to marry him, after all.

“So you, as an Alpha, have the love and need to protect Arlo as you would for Carey or Landon, but as a werewolf Alpha, you need to remain cool-headed to work on a solution. Yesterday, it hadn’t yet been twenty-four hours, but now, time is ticking, and Arlo’s life is more in peril…” I heard a door and turned.

“I’m relying on others to get the boy back because I wasn’t capable of thinking of a solution I could trust for only the pack to handle. You know I was hoping for Arlo to turn up or send a sign. Something.” As the delicate steps, soft and light, grew louder, Heath and I tilted our heads. “This is still better than putting his picture on the news, but it’s difficult. My mood will improve once we have the plan in action, and when I get any sign, we’ll find him before his captor puts a bullet in his head.”

“Maybe I can help with that,” Marnar said, announcing her presence. “I would like to volunteer to help the BSA and the pack as bait.”

“Really?” I was a little surprised she would, but I didn’t know her well. There was a chance I’d poorly judged her.

“I’ve fought on the same side as werewolves before,” she reminded me, smiling. “I’m certain I can do it again, and this time, do so knowingly. Innocent lives transcend species and history we weren’t part of.” She came around the counter, eyeing Heath and me. “I wasn’t a part of the war, not the one between us.” She wagged a finger between her and Heath. “Why would I wish ill on a boy who can’t change the circumstances he was, I assume, born with?”

“Arlo, no. His father Changed him before he should have and without Arlo’s consent,” Heath clarified. “He was seven. It’s only one of the reasons he is no longer in the care of his parents.”

“A boy who has survived such hardship, only to be faced with this…” Marnar shook her head sadly. “Terrible. Still, it doesn’t change my point. He’s a werewolf. He’s also just a boy who couldn’t possibly have done anything to deserve such treatment. I’ll help.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing you haven’t thought. I can tell. The only reason it’s taken me this long to come up here is the discussion with others. I won’t be alone. Many are still arguing the cause to help and may do that for some time.”

I had thought they would need to convince themselves. Hearing some were downstairs trying to convince others…

I won’t cry. She’ll think I’m crazy if I cry.

“I’ll call the Director and tell him we have volunteers,” Heath said, trying to move away from the edge of the counter, but I stayed in his way. Before letting him leave, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He grabbed my hips and deepened the kiss, tongue included, in front of our company and was smiling when I released him.

“Have fun,” I said, stepping back, my face a little warm. I hadn’t expected him to make the kiss passionate. I just wanted to kiss him because something was turning positive, and I wouldn’t hide how I felt for him because werecats were around.

He was still giving me the smile that often led to our bedroom when he walked away.

“It must be nice, the ability to track your man around your territory every day,” Marnar said, clearing her throat. “Though I hope you don’t confuse him for any of the other werewolves.”

“I can tell which of the werewolves is Heath. Same for Landon. For a long time, they were the only two, and I just… started noticing a difference in them. Some others in the pack are getting there.”

“Interesting. Maybe it’s from constant exposure?” She seemed genuinely intrigued.

“I think so,” I agreed, nodding. “It makes things easy when I know who in the pack is doing what. Full moons are easy. I don’t run with the pack, but I can avoid them if I don’t feel like them running with me. Sometimes, they like to follow me.”

“That doesn’t worry you?”

“No.” Shaking my head, I got a bottle of water. “I can talk to them in werecat form as easily as they speak in werewolf form. A gift from Brin… Brion, King Brion of the fae. That’s a complicated story, but the point is… I can communicate with them, which stops misunderstandings pretty easily. Even if I couldn’t… the Everson family is part of my life, and I consider them as much my family as I consider Zuri my sister.

“The pack respects him, and Heath considered each member carefully to make sure they would be well suited to the life he and I have together. So no, I’m not worried about the werewolves when they want to run behind me and have a laugh or just see me hunt.” I looked at Zuri as she came in. Marnar glanced her way, but Zuri’s appearance didn’t stop her from asking her questions.

“It’s… just interesting to me that a werecat from the ruling family would find it so easy to get along with werewolves.”

“Our sister-in-law, Aisha, once said it was because Jacky wasn’t raised to hate,” Zuri said, coming toward us. “Jacky was Changed as an adult, but unlike many werecats, she wasn’t raised from childhood by the werecat who Changed her.”

“Hasan…” Marnar looked at me, her eyes going wide. “He Changed you on awhim?”

“I was on his island, dying in a car accident,” I explained. “My fiancé died. Let’s hope the second survives to the wedding.” I tried for a smile, but neither woman caught my humor.

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