Page 52 of The Sacred Wolf

…Hole, I thought, followed by an immediate wave of guilt. I’d promised not more than a few hours ago that I’d try harder to understand him. And that was before he’d been shot.

Kiana laughed. “Gods, does that sound familiar. Poor Sebastian. He’ll never be able to please you, entitled as you are.”

I stepped back as if I’d been slapped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” she leaned in, her eyes narrowing, “That you’ve never considered what it takes to be an Alpha because you never thought you’d have to be one. No one has ever put the burden of everyone’s safety on your shoulders. You’ve never had to stare back at a roomful of eyes and make a decision that could be wrong, that could cause members of your pack to come to harm. Likability is a privilege the powerful do not have, Elyse.”

“There’ve been plenty of Alphas who have been beloved.” I spluttered, still stung by the entitled label being thrown at me by someone who’d felt entitled to torture me for years.

“Not by everyone in their packs!” She snapped. “Or did you just ignore everything we learned in History? Alphas rarely are in a position to make everyone happy. There are always those, just like you, who think they know better, or would do it differently, or who could somehow maintain a happy-go-lucky relationship with everyone if only they were in charge. But trust me, it doesn’t work that way.”

She stopped her tirade and drew a long breath, blowing it out slowly, her eyes closed. For a moment I wondered if she were channeling whatever her equivalent of a guru might be. What would be calming for Kiana?

Kickboxing instructor?

You’re hilarious.

“What you’re asking Sebastian isn’t fair,” she said quietly. “Who he is when he’s not being Alpha, the version of him that you like, I’m willing to bet that’s who he really is.”

I eyed her, my emotions on guard, waiting for the insult that was sure to follow. After so many years, shielding myself was a reflex. But what I saw was something new…or something I hadn’t seen in so long that it was unfamiliar. She was serious. Her gaze had softened, and I looked down to see that she’d touched me lightly, on the wrist. It was borderline gentle. It reminded me of who she’d been, at times, before Damian poisoned her against me. I shivered, torn between dueling desires to ward her off and draw her close.

“I mean it, Elyse,” she added. “You have a gift for allowing people to be who they are. Like your human friends. Your kindness was why they never suspected that you were anything but a simple, authentic human. But you’d never have been allowed to grow into who you are if you’d been the one training to be Alpha.”

I dropped my head, fighting the ache of tears that were gathering in the back of my nose and throat. The hollow that not having a sister all these years had left inside me had never healed. I’d filled it with anger and jealousy and a lot of stupid movie retribution scenes, but that was all just paper over an open wound. When I thought of who we’d have been if things had been different, the hollow throbbed.

“If that were the case,” I said, “If things were reversed, maybe you could’ve had the chance to be who you really were meant to be. You could have been kind and likable too.”

Her hand fell away from my arm as she let a bitter laugh float on the breeze. “No, there’s no secret princess hidden beneath this bitch exterior,” she said, standing straighter as her black Navigator turned the corner and headed our way. “This is who I was meant to be.”

For a moment, we stood, inches apart, the wind comingling our scents, so similar that strangers often failed to tell them apart, missing the tinge of granite and pine that was her versus the talc and maple that was me. I reached forward, wanting so badly to fill that hollow, but she stepped back.

“I have to go.” She waved at the driver of the car as he stepped out and held open the door. She started to walk away and then turned back, “Oh, and no matter what’s happened, you should know that I have zero intention of giving up my leadership of the Bronx pack that I’ve literally killed myself to earn all these years.”

The hollow was growing the more her words dug into me, carving it more deeply.

Because she was right.

I’d never asked myself why she’d changed so much, what had made her into what she became. Instead, I’d just sulked and comforted myself with make believe. Like Sebastian, actually.

Shit. I’m the Alphahole.

No, darling. You’re imperfect. Like all living beings.

“Elyse,” she called as she stepped into the car. “If we’re going to unite against the ah…” She looked around at the crowds, choosing her words carefully, “…enemy, then I think you need to make it official. Give Sebastian the chance you never gave me.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

As I approached Sebastian’s room, a mixture of butterflies and fire churned in my gut as I flip-flopped between anxiety and anger.When I entered, the medic was just leaving, his easy smile and thumbs up banishing my butterflies. I took a deep breath and blew it out.

“Is he awake?” I murmured.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “He still needs to rest, though, and he’s complaining of boredom, so I’m sure he’ll be happy that you’re here to visit.”

He left quietly, as did the guard, while I hung my jacket, pulling the Twizzlers I’d brought from the pocket and slipping out of my shoes. I padded down the parquet hall to the bedroom. I stopped at the small wet bar on the way, snagging a soda. It did my heart good to know that Sebastian was well enough to be antsy. But since he was still being told to rest, I was sure he could use some creature comforts. I had to admit that I wasn’t just relieved to know that he was recovering. I was excited to see him.

“And don’t forget to bring a side of sauce with that burger, Fred, ah…oh.”Sebastian’s voice trailed off as he saw me, his cheeks reddening as he pulled up the sheet. “Hey, Elyse.”

I nearly tripped over the thick flokati rug in surprise when I saw him. . Thank the Gods he was wearing basketball shorts, or I’d have caught my toe harder and done a full faceplant onto his bed. As it was, I was standing, slack-jawed, staring at the olive skin and taut muscles that would have been the picture of male perfection were they not marred by the ruddy bandage and violet bruising where the bullet had exited his pectoral muscle.

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