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Is it maybe a punishment for trying to do the same thing?
“So, what’s the plan for this family meeting?” Malachi asks, and when nobody says anything, Malachi rolls his eyes and focuses on our Alpha. “Atticus, you called it. What’s the plan?”
“I did,” Atticus says, his tone still devoid of any feelings. It gives me tingles, but not in a good way. “But I think that might have been a mistake.”
“What?” I gasp, looking at him with unshed tears in my eyes.
He avoids my gaze, and the only way I know he heard me is the way his fist clenches even tighter around the fork. So fucking tight I’m sure he’s bent it.
“You seem a little tense there, bro,” Mal says with a hint of concern in his words. Atticus doesn’t respond.
“Why do you think this was a bad idea?” I ask, but, of course, Atticus doesn’t respond to me either. “Is it because of me? Have I done something? I mean, obviously I have, and I know I caused the need for the family meeting, but—”
“No, I don’t think you caused the need for the family meeting,” Griffin says, and I look over at him in surprise. Is he being genuine here or just trying to help me feel better? “I think this is something we should do on a regular basis. Like Kai says, we could do it every day, whenever we can fit the time in. We’re busy people when lives go back to normal programming. I’m not at the law firm with the rest of you, neither is Devoss. Orson doesn’t work—”
“I do too work,” Orson snaps, rolling his eyes. “I’m second to this pride, and I look after this house. It’s hard work, not that you’d know.”
“He does such a good job with the house,” Mal says with a smirk on his face and a teasing tone to his words.
“You can wash your own fucking clothes,” Orson snaps, and I struggle to hold in my giggles.
I don’t know how I can laugh at a moment like this, after everything that’s happened today, but I can.
Maybe… maybe I’m not as broken as I think I am.
“But, no, I think it’s a good way for us to touch base and for us just to spend time together,” Griffin continues, ignoring the bickering between Orson and Mal.
“I agree,” Micah says, and then sniffles. He’s been crying. It’s clear in his face, just like it’s clear in mine. I reach under the table to squeeze his hand. He turns with surprise in his gaze, but when I smile at him, he returns it.
“Why did you do it?” Micah asks before gasping extremely loudly, and covering his mouth with both his hands.
“Shit!” Malachi snarls under his breath. He’s furious, and I can see the tension building within him, but before he can snarl at his brother, I speak.
I shrug. “I don’t mind that you asked. I think it’s something that we should probably talk about.”
Micah drops his hands from his mouth, surprise etched more firmly into his face. Malachi’s anger has disappeared, and curiosity fills Devoss’s face. I can’t see Orson, but he squeezes my thigh, and I know he’s supportive and willing to listen.
“Do you not want time to talk about things with my father first?” Griffin asks.
I shake my head. “There’s a time and place for therapy. And, of course, I’m going to need his help. But I feel like I owe this to you.”
“You owe us nothing,” Devoss corrects. “You owe us absolutely nothing, Nora.”
“Maybe owe was a bad word. It’s something I want to talk about with all of you,” I say, and he nods. “Atticus has negotiated or asked or I don’t know… I don’t know how it came about.” I trail off, not really sure how to begin my story when I’m still missing pieces myself.
I can’t remember if he told me, and in my haze of upset, I blocked it out.
“I negotiated,” Atticus says. “With Kennedy. I told him that the only way I would help his pack is if he met certain conditions. One of which was that you get an invite to David’s mating ceremony.”
I nod my head, not sure how I feel about that still. It’s not like I’ve had much time to process it.
“How do you feel about that?” Malachi asks, and I hold in my groan.
I can’t get frustrated at them asking questions just because I don’t have the answers to them.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I don’t know if I want to go or what. But that’s neither here nor there.” Micah seems a bit surprised by my abruptness, but I plough past it. I don’t want to get dragged back into the darkness. “So, obviously, Atticus called me up to talk to me about the mating ceremony, and he handed me the invite, and there was a note from my brother—”
“Daniel?” Devoss asks, raising his eyebrows.
