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“Bow,” Atticus says, his eyes flashing amber. Fin doesn’t have a choice and jogs off to do what his Alpha commanded.
“What do you want, brother?” I spit the word brother at him, letting him hear how much of a joke I think that word is. He’s no brother of mine, despite the blood between us saying otherwise.
“We’re dealing with this. Now,” Atticus says, firmly. “I’ve let this drag on for too fucking long, burying my heels, pretending that I hate you just as much as you hate me.”
Wait, he doesn’t hate me?
That’s not possible.
I’m unlovable. I’m a monster.
But am I really, or are those the words my father used to utter before he’d punish me for merely existing?
* * *
Atticus
I’ve fucked up.
I really have.
Cevon’s been back in my life for eight days now. and all we’ve done is snipe at each other—him more than me—and cause problems for each other—me more than him.
When Devoss told me about Cevon being the leader of the hunters, I wanted nothing more than to help him. I wanted him to come home, to let me in, to let me fix what had gone wrong in his life.
But a big part of the things that have gone wrong in his life had to do with me abandoning him.
We both fucked up five years ago. There’s no argument about that.
But his fuck up didn’t result in my mate and unborn child dying.
And that makes a world of difference.
He’s my baby brother, the one I was meant to protect, and I failed him.
It’s taken me days to come to terms with the fact that I’m the screw up. It’s been hard having Nora stuck in the middle, knowing how badly we’re hurting her as we continue to disregard the one thing she wants. But it’s been hard for me, personally, as well. I’ve never been a prideful man, or at least, I never thought I was.
But it seems that is a trait I do have, and it’s difficult to put my pride aside, to admit that I was wrong, when I know that Cevon’s not going to do the same thing. To move forward and heal, I need to just apologise and truly mean it.
But I’m fucking weak.
Fate brought him back into my life for a reason, and I refuse to believe it’s so that we can continue to hate each other and let another woman suffer because we can’t put our differences aside and be the brothers our father raised us to be.
But Cevon’s not going to be willing to hear me out, not until we prove that I’m the Alpha, and his lion is willing to accept that.
The human isn’t and probably won’t be willing to for a very long time, but the lion is what is important right now. If I can get him into the mindset where he’s willing to hear me, willing to listen, then maybe we can make some progress.
“You called,” Orson says, approaching Cevon and I, with Malachi and Devoss following him. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to figure our shit out,” I say, cracking my knuckles. Despite everything, Cevon’s eyes light up in excitement, the prospect of a real shifter fight already causing his adrenaline to race around.
I wonder how long it’s been for him since his lion has had a real worthy opponent.
“Too long,” he mutters as if hearing my silent question.
“You’re going to fight?” Mal demands, glancing between us. “Are you fucking stupid? Nora’s legit just kicked us all out because we’ve been fighting. Hell, she’s sobbing over ice cream and brownies to my brother right now.”
“Fin’s with her,” I say, waving him off. “She’ll be fine.”
