Page 79 of Depraved
“Um, boss, found something in there that I figured you wouldn’t want the cops to get their hands on,” Pluto mutters as he hands over the handkerchief.
Black’s eyes scan the cops in the crowd, but their radios are going off on their shoulders, probably getting assignments on who to question or something.
I try not to be too obvious as I peer down at Black’s hand as he carefully slides the bloody handkerchief back. Underneath is a rock.
In blood-red letters, one word is written: HER.
Black’s eyes flash up to me as he tucks that rock into his pocket wrapped up in the disgusting handkerchief.
“What’s that mean?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Liar.
It means me, and I know it. Because I was right.
I grit my teeth and try to keep a calm, serene face as I stare out at the crowd. Some officers are stretching yellow tape in a wide circle around the fight. Others trot forward with notebooks and pens, heading for our huddled group of alphas.
“You know, you want me to come to you with everything, so you can solve my problems. Solve the pack’s problems. But then you keep things from me, like this little message in blood or the fact that Jonah couldn’t actually shift into an elite. You think you’re protecting me … and saving the world. But you’re doing it your way. You won’t share the burden.”
“I see an officer looking to question me,” Matthew cuts in. “I’d better go.” He scurries off, well aware that the tone of my voice is slowly building up. Pluto stalks off after him, not even bothering to make an excuse.
“Won’t listen to reason. You do what you think’s best and damn the rest.”
“Really? Hello pot, meet kettle. You’re the damn same. What the fuck was that phone call to me about, hmm? Lying about going into heat?”
“Because I knew if I told you that I thought Thomas was here and was after me, you’d lock me up.”
“Damn straight,” Black says through a fake smile as the police commander walks in our direction.
“Yeah, and then you’d still be chasing your tail.”
“I was on the trail.”
“No, you weren’t. But you’ll never admit to being wrong. I was right, but I wasalso wrong, Black. I was right about what Thomas wanted. He showed up here just like I predicted. That rock proves it beyond a doubt.Her.He came here for me. But I fucking hate the way this turned out,” I have to pause because there’s a catch in my voice, and I can’t start crying. If I do, I won’t stop. “Ihatethe fact that people got hurt because of my choices. And that the wedding shop lady … I wish I’d felt I could come to you because you’d have had a way better fucking plan.”
“You can always come to me. You should.”
I turn and glare up at him. “Not unless you come to me too.”
“That’s how alphas work, Elena,” He seems stunned by my demand that our trust be reciprocal.
“No. That’s how alphas who arealonework,” I turn and give him a cutting glare as two more officers march our way. His eyes are unreadable dark chocolate orbs as I say, “You need to decide … are you going to be alone? Or not?”
21
ELENA
Jonah recoversby the next morning, which is so fast that I’m a little shocked. I guess that while shifters all heal quickly, alphas heal even quicker than betas … and now he’s got a little bit of alpha magic in him.
I’m sitting on the edge of the green canopy bed in the room that’s become his designated sick room, scrolling through TikTok and waiting for him to wake when his foot slides underneath the covers and bumps against my ass.
I turn to look over at him and am beyond relieved when I see the sconce-light reflecting in his blue eyes, which are bright and alert. I toss my phone onto the comforter and crawl up to hover over him.
“Hello, mate,” I grin. “Feeling better?”
“So much better. Especially after hearing that word. I think it healed whatever aches were left.” Jonah props himself up on his elbows, the covers falling down, revealing his bandaged torso. Healers hadn’t given him a shirt last night because they’d checked on his bandages several times, apparently wanting to ensure that as his body healed as it pushed out any silver powder that had been coating Thomas Stone’s claws.
