Page 76 of Defiant Beta

In the backof my mind, I believed Xavier when he said something was wrong with Della.

I hadn’t wanted to believe him. It’s easier to close your eyes and stay focused on a task you’ve spent years working toward than let yourself be distracted.

After Levi said she hadn’t eaten the meal he brought, she didn’t reply to my knock on her door. I stood outside her room, listening, but there was no answer, and the silence made it hard to focus.

The city is heading into civil war if I don’t show my face.

I’m within touching distance of finding the person who killed my omega, but a beta who I hadn’t believed knew the meaning of quiet is silent.

“Dexter,” Morgan snaps.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” I say calmly as I process what part of the conversation I missed. “Rushing into anything would be hasty.”

Through the large screen set up on the wall of my office, the members of the Council narrow their eyes.

Five members.

One elected head.

To become the head, I had to show them that, as the youngest, I could protect their interests and the city. But I had no interest in them, their politics, or even the city. I wanted enough power to obtain information that I couldn’t access any other way than by being in charge.

“The problem isn’t a lack of hastiness,” Olin scoffs. The bald, scarred alpha spends his days in a high-rise tower he owns in the heart of the city. At fifty, he’s the oldest among us. “It’s your lack of action.”

True.

I steeple my fingers on the desk as I eye them one by one.

Soon after I took power, one of these men tried to kill me. But that’s the game we all play. If you want power, be prepared for someone to try to take it from you.

“The city is tipping toward a civil war,” I admit.

“Becauseyouaren’t doing anything,” Cook says.

Also true.

His sharp eyes observe me keenly. The lean, dark alpha is usually quiet, but anyone who challenges him should expect to die if they fail. He is cunning.

A soft creak pulls my attention to my closed office door.

It’s nine, and Levi went to bed early after his evening workout. Nowhere has ever felt like home, and none of us has wanted to lay down permanent roots anywhere. We find a house, rent it until we get itchy feet, then we move on. We’ve been here for six months, the longest we’ve called a rental home.

Quietly, I get to my feet, picking up a small black remote from the desk. “This requires a delicate touch. Acting fast could create more problems than it would solve.”

Rounding the desk, I take light steps. I’m still talking when I close my hand around the doorknob, twist, and pull. Fast.

Thud.

Della Jackson stares up at me from the floor.

She’s no longer in the backless hospital gown she was wearing before.

It’s not the first time she has been on the floor in front of me, gazing up at me with her large, expressive, dark blue eyes. The first time, she was on her knees in her uniform, and the thoughts I had at that moment were anything but teacherly.

“Problem, Dexter?” Cook calls out.

Della’s eyes widen at my other name.

I don’t look away from her. “An urgent matter just came up. We’ll continue this conversation another time.”

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