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“Why are you crying?” Malachi demands, panic in his tone. “I don’t like this crying shit. Stop it.”
I laugh as Atticus and Griffin come into the kitchen, and everything within me settles.
I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if I’m going to be alive next week, or in ten years time, or what. But I do know that right now, everything is perfect.
4
NORA
Okay. So, I was wrong. Everything is not perfect. Things feel great for me, in terms of my wolf being balanced and there’s not an overwhelming amount of pressure in my head, but I think that’s it. That’s the only thing that feels right.
Looking around the room, there’s so much tension as we all help Orson set the table. It’s quiet, and an awkward kind of atmosphere that I’ve never really felt around these men before. We’ve never been the kind of people where there’s been an uncomfortableness, even when I was pushing them away, denying the bond that we share, there was still that easy, free, positive time. There has never been this sort of imbalance between us.
It’s weird, and it unsettles both my wolf and I.
The only two who seem to be acting normal are Griffin and Devoss, which I’m actually very unsurprised about. Griffin seems to have that kind of ease about him, and I think Devoss has just experienced so much darkness and hurt within his short life that this isn’t even something that truly phases him.
He probably even expected it.
Malachi and Micah are just really hurt, like, obviously so. Micah’s face is puffy, and his nose is a little swollen, and Mal just looks the personification of thunder. They’re hurt was never my goal, and it’s kind of startling to have to sit here and be surrounded by that.
Not in a nasty way, of course, because they’re entitled to their feelings. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m selfish, and I have selfish desires. I’m struggling.
Earlier today when I tried to hurt myself, I didn’t expect to be around to deal with the aftermath. I knew they’d be upset, but I knew it wouldn’t last long because they’d get another chance.
They’d get to be happy.
I blink back the tears, and focus on the Alpha. Because he’s the one where I’m a little worried. He’s just got a blank face, no signs of feelings at all, and I don’t think I’ve heard him say anything yet. He’s been in here about fifteen minutes, and he’s not once glanced my way. I know he’s got to be upset, maybe even blaming himself, but the Atticus I’m used to dealing with, the one who is so overbearing and touchy feely, would never act this way.
I’m not sure why, though—is he doing it because he’s so upset, is he putting distance between us in case I try again, or is it another way to cope that I’m not used to?
And, well, Orson is definitely upset, and it seems to have triggered him into an extreme version of his caregiver mode. I tried to grab the plates before—seven little salad plates, at that—and he took them straight from my arms, gave me a warning look when I went to argue, and put them on the table for me. If that’s not enough, Devoss passed me some water in a small glass for me to drink, and Orson went as far as to try and hold it for me whilst I drank it.
I shot that down real quick, but that didn’t stop him hovering right by my side in case I faltered.
In drinking water. As you can imagine, it didn’t happen.
It’s strange, though, because I’d have thought I’d hate this obsessive love. But I don’t. I love the care. It’s something I think that I need. And if I’m going to be selfish and let myself think this, it’s something I think I deserve. I’ve spent so long looking after myself just trying to survive that maybe some help along the way isn’t going to be the end of the world.
If I’m living a life I’m not sure I want to live, the more people that can support me and make it easier for me, the better.
“Are you okay?” Griffin asks, and I smile up at him, even if it’s fake. He notices and frowns a little, the little crinkles around his eyes make me sad, and I drop the fakeness. I hate that I’m disappointing him—that I’m disappointing them.
But there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m mentally ill, they knew that from the get go.
Whether I agree with the diagnosis that George has given me, or there’s others or whatever, we do know that I am mentally ill. And I feel guilty for being that way. Because none of these men deserve that.
Atticus didn’t fall for me because I was beautiful or because he wanted to. We didn’t have weeks or months of buildup where he asked me on dates as we started to learn about each other. His lion was entranced by an act I did, as they do, and the bond cemented into place. And that’s it, he was stuck with me. The same then happened in rapid succession with the tiger brothers, neither of them having a choice, and they got lumped with an unstable woman who would ultimately ruin their lives.
Of course this happened for Devoss, too, that dratted handshake causing so many problems for him. He of all people deserves better than me. He deserves light and love, and I can only give him one of those things.
Orson was a different case, but that doesn’t change the fact that he had no say in it. I was such a damsel in distress that night that I screamed out to his bear for help, and the creature had no choice but to respond. Like Devoss, I am the worst person fate could’ve matched with him. After what happened with his sister… he doesn’t deserve to be surrounded by someone else he needs to worry about.
Which leaves Griffin, the poor man who was attacked in his home by me. Literally. He was just trying to help his dad out, and I came over and sunk my grotty teeth into his neck and forced him into a relationship.
I’m a terrible mate to all of them, and, yet, they’re stuck with me. They’re stuck with the poor, mentally deranged woman who can’t do more than try to kill herself every time something doesn’t go right.
Okay, fine. I might only have one suicide attempt under my belt, but I’m pretty sure there will be a second. And the goal is that that one will be a bit more successful.
