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“I wanted to be sincere,” she wailed. “All I wanted was to be whatever he wanted. I wanted to please him. He’s my alpha.”
“No, come on, don’t do that,” said Sinclair. “This is why he’s poison, do you all realize this?”
“He’s poison?” I said to Sinclair pointedly.
“Well, you enable him,” said Sinclair to me. “You tell him exactly what he wants to hear. You’re the worst about that, Rohan.”
Maguire sighed heavily. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to please him.”
“It is,” said Eleri wistfully. “Nothing’s going to be the same between him and me now.”
“I don’t know what it is about him,” said Maguire. “Maybe it’s because I had sex with him or something? I get a different alpha feeling from him than I do with you guys.”
“That’s not the reason,” I said.
“Well,” said Maguire, glancing around. “We’ve all had sex with him, right? But we haven’t had sex with each other.” He gestured, making lines between himself and me and himself and Sinclair. “So, maybe it’s just something to do with that.”
“It’s not nice to please him,” said Sinclair in an icy voice.
“Yeah, well, you two have some rift between you,” said Maguire. He nodded at me. “But you like pleasing him?”
“I…” I considered. “I do and I don’t.”
“Could you find a better way to say absolutely nothing?” said Sinclair, shaking his head at me. “Can I smoke in here?”
“No,” I said. “You should really quit smoking.”
“You should,” said Eleri, looking back at him. “I think you’re just doing it to be self-destructive. That part of you that’s attracted to danger? But it’s really bad for your health.”
Sinclair looked up at Eleri with a strange expression on his face. “You want me to quit smoking, omega?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Okay,” said Sinclair in a funny voice. “Guess I just quit smoking. Shit.” He blinked, shaking himself, looking at her warily.
Eleri rolled her eyes. “You have an addiction. I’m sure it won’t be that easy, and you should get help, maybe from a doctor or something. I know they have prescriptions, or you can get nicotine patches or gum or something. Maybe see a therapist. I think you really need to see a therapist.”
Sinclair crumpled in his seat, wrinkling up his nose. “Back to Rohan backing me up.”
“I wasn’t backing you up,” I said.
“You agreed with me that it’s not good to please Devlin,” said Sinclair.
“I didn’t,” I protested. I leaned back in my seat, looking up at the ceiling of the van. “All I’m saying is that sometimes Devlin can be a spoiled brat.”
“Yes,” said Sinclair.
“However,” I said witheringly, “we are all spoiled brats to some degree. We’re rich and privileged and entitled.”
“Speak for your fucking self,” said Sinclair.
“Oh, as if you’re going to deny this?”
“Privilege?” said Sinclair. “Explain to me how it’s a privilege to be raised in a glass bubble with everyone looking at you every single second of every day, huh? Everyone in the world saw pictures of me taken exactly three hours after I was born. My life has been lived in front of everyone. I’ve never had a second of privacy. Everything I do is seen, commented on, and criticized. I’m relentlessly and constantly hounded. They killed my mom, Rohan.”
I pressed my lips together.
“They’re trying their best to kill us all,” said Sinclair, leaning forward. “You know why? Because they hate us. We make them feel small and unimportant. They all want to be us, but they know they never will, and they resent us so intensely that they want to destroy us.”
