Page 18 of Depraved
“Come in,” I snap, lowering my legs from the desk and straightening my spine so I look more formal. I squint my eyes as I wrestle internally with my wolf, who doesn’t want formal. He wants to shred the clothes I’m in and smash through the glass window behind me and take off through the trees until he finds Thomas Stone and his stupid blood-covered rocks. He wants vengeance. He wants it just as much as my elites did this morning. But I had to turn them away to go do administrative bullshit for a few hours. I need him to calm his shit and let me get a few more things done.
Soon,I soothe him.Soon.
He sends me an image of a wolf tackling a deer, grabbing the weaker animal by the throat, and wrestling it to the ground as blood sprays out around them like a mist.
Yes, you’ll get your kill. I promise.
When Pluto walks in both my wolf and I are relieved to see him. Matthew had told me he was doing better, but at lunch time, when I walked over to check on him, he was passed out in bed, strawberry icing on the corner of his mouth as he lay curled in a fetal position.
He’d looked young. Vulnerable.
“I think you might need to change your pack name to Zombie. Or maybe Walking Dead,” I say with a grin. I resist the urge to get up and go hug him. The healer that came by at lunch while I was looking him over said that he and Jonah are still dealing with internal injuries. Those are slower to heal.
“Those names are okay, but I was kind of thinking about Jesus.” Pluto smirks as he slides into the leather seat across from me.
I chuckle. “I can only imagine the uproar if you did that, fucker.”
“Hey. I’m already named after a god. I think I just chose the wrong one.”
Laughter envelops us and we slip easily into our old camaraderie. I’m so fucking glad to have him back at my side. I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend, the wolf I trust fully above all my other elites. My throat gets tight. And selfishly, I think about the fact that I came this close to having to run a pack without him. I need him. As a brother and as a second. I have to clear my throat to dislodge the rock that appears inside of it. I even look away before I do something stupid like tear up.
“So, I’ve been researching …” I hold up an old black leather notebook from my shelf. It has everything I’ve jotted down from my conversations last night. All the little things I’ve gleaned about Thomas and his father.
“When are you not researching?” Pluto settles back into his chair, and I pretend not to notice that he moves around three or four times trying to get comfortable. I make a mental note to have one of my elites drag a recliner in here for him. He’ll never ask for it, but his wincing tells me that he needs it.
I ignore his jab at what he considers a nerdy tendency and I consider the difference between life and death when you’re an alpha in my position. I continue, “It looks like Thomas has left a trail of bruised hearts behind them. And by bruised—I mean literally. Fucker’s a woman beater.”
“Disgusted but not surprised. Not surprised at all.” Pluto‘s eyes narrow. “Any of those shifters brave enough to talk?”
“There are a couple. They shied away from my guys, but I’m sure if we just got the right angle—”
Pluto shifts again and hisses, interrupting me. I stop talking, waiting to see if I need to call for help.
But he just grimaces before asking, “What if it’s not about the angle? What if it’s about who’s asking the questions?”
I lean back in my chair. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, alphas can be pretty intimidating. Down south, telling an alpha what he doesn’t want to hear can equate to a split lip. Or worse. Maybe it’s not best for an alpha to talk to these women. Maybe they need to feel safe. Maybe they need to feel like they’re talking to someone who can see things from their perspective.”
My gut shrinks when I realize what he’s implying. All my muscles tense around my bones. He could be talking about anyone, but I know he’s not. Another beta could help make these women talk, but there’s no guarantee. Even amongst betas, ranks and pissing contests vary. There’s only one shifter who’s guaranteed to appear less threatening—if she can keep her damned mouth in check. “I don’t think she’s ready to be dragged into all of this.” I scratch at my beard, irritated I’m even considering it.
“I don’t think any of us were—yet here we are.” His pointed look tells me thatIam the reason they’ve been dragged in to all this shit. And he’s right. If I hadn’t wanted Elena so badly … If I hadn’t been so selfish … But I can’t find it in me to wish things that had turned out any differently. Because I’m a bastard who loves that spark in her eyes. Because she makes the darkness inside of me double. One day, I’ll swallow her light with my shadows. But I can’t even bring myself to regret that. Because then my beautiful, innocent, little wolf will be as depraved as I am.
So it’s my fault we’re in this mess. And there is only one guaranteed wolf whose status will be such a draw that it will ensure these women talk.
“Fuck.” All I say is a single word, but Pluto visibly relaxes. Because he knows he’s won.
I had wanted to keep Elena here and surround her with all the guards’ magic we could muster. Shit, I’d stuff her in an underground bunker and toss a helmet on her head if I thought that would keep her safe. And I wouldn’t give a damn if she yelled at me about it. Actually, I’d enjoy it if she yelled at me. I get half-hard at the thought of her defiant little stance, like a little puppy playing tough.
Now I’m gonna have to figure out how to keep her safe while we’re on the move. While we’re in enemy territory. And I can’t say no–even though my wolf’s hackles rise at the thought of taking her with us. I can’t say no because I owe it to the pack. And so does she. This will give her the opportunity to step further into the role of luna and really help the pack. She already did it with the mourning howl but this will make even more of a statement. No pack member will be able to deny her role after she helps lead the chase that leads to little Stone Jr.’s end. She’ll be undisputed luna.
I won’t be using that term in front of her though. It might lead to an enjoyable fight—and hot sex after—but I know she’s freaked out by the term. I can see it on her face. And I need her to focus more on helping than on her fear. That’s asking a lot of a girl who is only twenty-one. I couldn’t have handled something this big when I was her age.
Guilt swarms me like flies and I can’t just bat it away. I’ve made life harder for everyone, including her.
I lean back into my chair, letting the leather hug my shoulders as I run my calloused hand down my forehead and across my eyes.
We are where we are. All I can do is move forward. Sometimes, you have to make choices out of options you’d rather not have at all. That’s what this is—the best option out of a load of shitty ones.
