Page 132 of Lonely Alpha

Sometimes I wondered if rock bottom would have forced me to rethink my actions. I’d never reached it because Mercury was always there, hovering and ready to pull me out of trouble.

But I also doubted if rock bottom would have done anything good for me. I probably would have wallowed there, feeling even more like shit about myself and my life. It might have felt fitting—if my scent match mate didn’t want me, how could I live my best life? What was the point of pulling myself out?

Without lived experiences, it was impossible to know.

“No,” I admitted. “You’re like an overbearing parent, but I’m scared to know what would have happened to me without you.”

His shoulders relaxed. He tugged at one of his braids, half turning back to the task at hand. I stopped him with a grip on his arm.

“I don’t need you anymore, though.”

Mercury’s eyes narrowed, flicking between me and the direction of Kiara. We all had an acute knowledge of where she was, just in case she needed us. Our protective instincts were raging around the delicate, dangerous omega.

“She could—”

“No. If this breaks me, that’s on me. Not her, or you.”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth some more. After so many years being babied, I wasn’t as confident as I wanted to be about my ability to self-regulate. But it was time. Leighton was right—my negative feelings were a self-fulfilling prophecy, and my guilt over being a burden to my pack wasn’t helping.

“You know, I don’t even know what you enjoy doing,” I said. “All you do is run after me. What do you like?”

He blinked at me blankly. Mercury didn’t know. Through the pack bond, usually locked up tight, I felt his mild horror at the realization.

“Since I don’t need a babysitter anymore, you should probably figure that out. Or you’re going to be really fucking bored. Maybe you can take up sewing like our omega.”

Shaking his head, he looked at the table, filled to the brim with supplies.

“I don’t think sewing is for me. I used to play chess. And fence and ride horses.”

Wow.

Fencing?

People still fenced? Wasn’t that like a medieval pastime?

I tried unsuccessfully to keep the amused grin off my face. “Fencing, huh? Sounds thrilling.”

Mercury scowled, but it wasn’t filled with his usual genuine annoyance with me. “Fencing is a respectable hobby.”

“Yeah, if you lived in 16th century England.”

“Fuck off.”

I cackled, grabbing a piece of pale pink fabric. I was pretty sure I’d set up the sewing machine, so it was time to test it. My plan was to make Kiara a skirt. Had to be simple enough, right?

“Seriously, though,” I said, using my phone to pull up a pattern for a circle skirt. “Buy a horse farm or something. We’ve got the money, and I’m not going to run myself into the ground if you leave for the countryside every couple of weekends. Or, God forbid, if you get a job.”

His gaze flicked to the bedroom where Kiara slept. He wanted her. It was so fucking obvious. He wanted Leighton, too. Just like I did. The two of us had never had a common goal before, but assuming Mercury was willing to admit his desires, we finally did.

It was exciting and had me feeling closer to my packmate than I ever had. All the years of him trailing me everywhere, and it had never felt like the pack I’d dreamed of. We’d never been friends the way I wanted to be.

“Kiara might like the horse farm idea,” I said slyly. “Doubt she’s ever met a horse before.”

“I’ll have to ask.”

“You might have to explain to her what kind of horse riding you do. Might need a full presentation on it.”

He turned to me with an eyebrow raised, the hand sewing kit abandoned on the table. “You’re trying to get rid of me,” he said.

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