Page 19 of Depraved
“I’ll tell her. But I’m gonna keep digging —”
Pluto speaks at the same time I do. “We need to talk about the beta —”
That makes me stop short. Pluto gestures for me to keep speaking, but I flick my wrist at him and motion for him to continue. Somehow, I immediately know that he means Jonah even though there are thousands of betas under my control.The betacan only mean one of them. Is there an issue with Jonah? Did the healers tell Pluto something?
I lean towards him, planting my elbows on the wooden desk, my shoulders hunching forward. Tension grips me. I had a lot of selfish, wayward thoughts last night—thoughts that I’m ashamed of. But now I’m hit by another onslaught of selfish musings—this time they pull me from the opposite direction.
He can’t fucking die. Something tightens in my chest. Elena would be too devastated to help. The pack needs her help, and I don’t ever want to see that look on her face again—the one she had at the scene when she thought Jonah was gone. It nearly killed me.
Fuck.
I grab my thoughts and throw them into a burlap sack and tie it closed. Then I spin in a circle and mentally heave that sack up into the sky—as far away from me as it I can get it. I’m losing my cool. I’m trying to stay calm on the surface, but underneath I’m cracking. My mind isn’t as clear as it used to be. It used to be cold. Calculated. Cunning. Now, all these emotions are battering me. If I don’t cut that shit out, I’m likely to lose focus and lose this war.
I can’t afford that.
Neither can the Lobos.
I saw a photo or two from the last police report with Thomas Stone’s name on it. He’d taken a broken beer bottle to a girl—and he hadn’t tried to cut her throat. He hadn’t tried to kill her. No. He had taken that bottle and dragged it up and down her arms and legs until they were nothing but a mess of scars. He wanted to mark her for the rest of her days. He wanted her to feel ugly, like a victim, to have a visual reminder of him every waking moment for the rest of her life.
I may not be a hero. But I won’t let my pack fall to that villain.
I use the memory of those photos to carefully clear my head of any remaining emotions. When I finally have chased off the last remnants of feeling and my mind is clear, I look at Pluto.
“Well? What about Jonah?”
“We need to figure out his place. He’s not an elite. But he is… Something. His old pack number doesn’t work anymore.”
I run a hand through my hair and shake my head. “This is minor. Let’s deal with this after—”
“No. We need to deal with this now. He defied me this morning. He’s never been able to do that.”
My eyes widen and I cock my head.
Pluto nods at me to confirm his statement, wrinkles showing his concern as his expression becomes serious. “Ask Matthew. I didn’t do anything about it—but if he starts mouthing off to other alphas, he’s going to end up in that recovery room a lot. His being Elena’s mate, and somehow having your blessing, or whatnot, is confusing the pack system. Is he an elite now? Is he inner circle? What is he? What’s his rank? Where does he belong?”
These questions bring back the headache I’ve been holding off. It roars inside my skull full force, tumbling across my skull in an avalanche. Why can’t just one thing about this shit show be easy?
My wolf paces, snarling. He wants to put Jonah in his place. But … if being Elena’s mate has done something to mess with Jonah’s place in the pack, this isn’t the right time to fight him. The guy can barely walk. Pluto’s right. I need to come up with a strategy. I massage my temples and say, “OK, I’ll think about it.”
He gives me a curt nod and stands. It’s not lost on me that he uses the chair to prop himself up, though he forces his spine straight.
“Let me know if you need any help.”
As if I’m going to call him when he looks like he’s about to keel over. I smile and thank him before he walks out of the room.
Motherfucker.
Once, just once, I’d like good news to walk through that door.
The second Pluto’s gone, Matthew—who I’d swear is psychic if I didn’t know better—shows up with a fresh pot of coffee, green apple slices in a bowl, and an energy bar with enough caffeine in it to power a shake weight.
“Alpha Maddox.” He pulls his faux respectful tone on me, and it makes me roll my eyes.
“Sit down and drink with me,” I order as I add flavoring to my coffee. I need a break. A break without shifters or their damned drama.
He sits in the chair that Pluto just vacated and knots his fingers together. “Well you’ve gotten yourself into a whole jar of pickles haven’t you?“
I grab an apple slice and use it to point at him. “Don’t try and be cute and clever—not unless you’re gonna help me solve this Jonah shit so I can get back to the rest of the tangled problems with this psycho.”
