Page 54 of Wolves of the Golden Sun

Ooooh.

Fuck.

“Yeah, I can see how that would be extremely effective for them.”

My dick almost curled up and died at the mental image he drew. So, I just have to figure out who to personify my impulse as.

Who would I never fucking listen to if they were the last person on the planet?

“So, now that you have the theory, I want you to be easy on yourself. You’re not going to get this right away. First, you’ll start to notice the thoughts as separate. You’ll likely still act on them, and that’s normal. Just don’t hurt anyone permanently and Willa will probably forgive you.

“After you’re noticing them every time, you’ll be able to assign them the persona and bat them away.”

I nod. “Yeah, this was surprisingly helpful.”

The doc laughs. “Imagine that. Good thing I’m not easily offended, I suppose.”

“Heh, yeah. Good thing.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss? We still have about forty minutes.”

“Nah. I think I’m good.” I stand and offer him my hand.

I hadn’t on the way in, and that was a dick thing to do.

He takes it, and we’re both conscious not to try to obliterate each other’s hand, or out alpha the alpha.

“You can schedule another appointment with my receptionist out front. And once you leave the lobby, the ward around you will dissipate. You might get a little woozy, but that’s normal.”

I nod and head out. “Thanks,” I say and close the door behind me.

I don’t make another appointment with the receptionist, not because I don’t want to, but because I have a nagging urge to get outside.

Stepping outside is like getting hit in the head with a metal baseball bat.

The ward the doc mentioned over the phone was supposedly for confidentiality.

But it cut me off from everything.

The thrum of my pack is always at the back of my head. A general danger-meter for all the members, it usually buzzes along unnoticed, but it’s now suddenly the loudest thing in my head.

Not because there is danger but because I was cut off from it and now I have to readjust again.

I squeeze the heels of my hands to my temples, hoping to press the pain away, or iron out the ripples it’s making in my brain.

It doesn’t help.

I stumble to my work truck and hop in, hoping it won’t take long to re-acclimate to the pack hum.

It’s not individual voices—I can only hear Willa’s voice in my head—it’s more like a barometer. If there’s danger, it hums high and shrill. If everything is fine and as it should be, the hum is low, like a refrigerator kicking on. White noise in my head, almost.

I’d been prepared for the ward going in, but I hadn’t noticed the hum disappearing until it reappeared like a screaming jet engine.

After some time, my head stops pounding and I’m able to drive out of Cranbrook and back up to my mountain.

I can’t wait to tell Willa what the doc taught me.

Can’t wait to show her how much I’m trying to be the best alpha I can be for her.

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