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“Maybe. I don’t know.” George isn’t my first therapist, but I have also been reading a lot, so I don’t know where this tidbit came from. It’s not important, he’s just deflecting.
“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t agree with it.”
“No?”
He shakes his head, and then pouts. He pouts!
“You’re pouting,” I say, unable to hold in the glee as I sort of bounce on his desk. “Oh, my god!”
“Am not.”
“And whining,” I say before bursting into giggles. “Oh, my god. You’re adorable.”
He gasps and lunges towards me, and I quickly move out the way, in turn, knocking his computer off the desk, a tangle of wires knocking over the coffee, too.
I still, the amusement fading from me as panic takes over.
“Shh,” Atty soothes, tugging me off the desk and into his lap. His laptop is covered in coffee, his papers are soaked and now ruined, and his computer is on the floor with probably a broken screen.
“You’re all right, little queen, it was an accident.”
“I… I can replace them,” I say, but obviously that won’t fix the papers.
“Shh,” he repeats, cuddling me in close. “I’ve got plenty of money. I can replace my own shit. It was my fault for teasing you.”
“Atty—”
“Nora, I’ve got enough money that I can buy a laptop and computer for every single person in my pack and still have eight figures in the bank.”
That makes me lightheaded in a way that has nothing to do with my anxiety disorder—you know, the one I still refuse to claim—or the broken devices.
No, this is because the wealth my mate has is scary as fuck.
If he has eight figures in the bank, how much does he actually have? Don’t most rich people have their money in stocks and stuff?
I wouldn’t know because I’m not rich.
“Cev and I were close when we were younger,” Atticus says, wisely changing the subject and distracting me with what I want most. “Really close. He and my dad never really got on, they didn’t have the bond I had with either of them, but we were happy. And then, he just left. At first, I thought he was just trying to spend more time with his mate and enjoy his life, so I didn’t chase him down much. Then… I don’t really have an excuse.”
I look up at his face, at the tears that are glistening in his ocean blue eyes, and a little whimper leaves me. This comes directly from my wolf, and she’s showing her love and empathy towards her lion mate.
His rumbles, a soft purr leaving his chest, and whilst the human in me doesn’t like that he’s the one soothing me when he’s the one in so much pain, the animals we both have are content with that dynamic.
After a heated kiss or five, I cuddle into his chest, offering him all of the comfort he needs.
* * *
“He turns me into a fucking child,” Cevon says, and the frown on his face is identical to that of his brother an hour ago.
“He does?” I ask before shrugging and saying the same thing I said to Atticus. “Nobody can make you feel any which way without your permission.”
“That’s fucking stupid.”
And there is the difference between my two lion mates. One lives in the light and sees optimism and positivity and can truly see himself growing as a person. The other lives in the darkness—through no fault of his own—and can’t see anything but negativity and pain.
“Maybe,” I reply. “Or maybe you just don’t want to take accountability for your actions.”
Cev glares at me, but we both know it’s himself he’s pissed at.
