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Loren fought to keep up with the convoluted argument. “So, you hate me because you’re jealous?” It sounded ridiculous.
Naomi, however, wasn’t laughing.
“I hate you because some of us can’t just play the victim and crawl through life knowing we’ll be protected. We don’t have that luxury.”
Loren raised an eyebrow. “Playing the victim? You act like you know everything about me just because you heard about ‘my case.’ You have no damn idea what I’ve been through, so don’t pretend to understand me.”
So much for Bill’s plea. Her anger flared hot, and it seemed impossible they would ever come to anything other than blows. Still, she fought to find some shred of a logical argument to respond with.
“You talk about me,” she bit out, “butyouhave everything you could ever want.” It stung to admit that. She used to pray for even a fraction of what someone like Naomi Tanner possessed. “How is your life any harder than mine?”
Naomi scoffed and stomped her foot in exasperation. “When will you learn, Connors? Open your eyes. You aren’t the only person in the world with problems. Like him, for instance? Have you even noticed just how stressed he’s been lately? Because of you. No? Or that weird guy, Micha? He’s terrified of something, and I bet you don’t even care. You’re so caught up in the poor, sad girl narrative. Wake up!” She clapped her hands for emphasis. “There is more going on in the world than Loren Connors and her pathetic problems. Now, if you don’t mind, I think that’s enough friendship bonding for today. He wants us to come to some sort of truce? Fine. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
She stormed toward the house, but Loren watched her go, startled by a puzzling realization. Naomi…had a point, albeit an obvious one. Her issues with reconciling her lycan nature aside, Loren knew that she wasn’t the only one struggling. Something was off, evident in Bill’s recent moodiness and constant vigilance.
Her one shining bit of hope was that he promised to enlighten her. Hopefully soon. Curiosity alone was what finally drew her back to the house in Naomi’s shadow. True to her word, the blond said nothing before storming to her car. She barely climbed inside the driver’s seat when a voice boomed from the house.
“Get some rest,” Bill said from the front porch. “Come back tomorrow morning. I suggest you pack enough clothing for a few days.”
Naomi acknowledged him with a curt nod before driving off. As she finally disappeared from view, he turned his focus to where Loren stood.
She gritted her teeth in sympathy. He looked onlyslightlyless tired. Despite his promise, she doubted he’d slept any. Dark circles lined his eyes, and he raked his hand repeatedly through his hair, tousling the strands into an increasing state of disarray. Like always, his own discomfort seemed an afterthought to him.
He fixated solely on her. She could feel it—like an invisible hand extending in her direction. A wave of comfort followed, though he never said a word. His only action was to beckon her closer with a tilt of his chin.
Loren swallowed hard and mounted the porch steps on trembling legs before following him inside. A quick glance through the kitchen doorway revealed that Micha wasn’t in sight, presumably still outside patrolling.
They were alone.
Rather than remain in the neutral territory of the downstairs hallway, Loren was shocked when Bill approached the stairs and took them one at a time. Near the top, he hesitated.
“Undoing whatever block is on your memories is the most important task at the moment. Whatever it takes.”
His tone made her stomach lurch. She still didn’t understand exactly what he wanted from her. “How can a…” She scrambled to recall the word he used. “A compulsion from a lycan. How can that keep me from remembering?”
Frankly, it sounded too fantastical. Crazy. She intended to wait for him to answer, but despite herself, she was already mounting the stairs after him. Just as she came within reach, he continued ahead, entering the lone bedroom first.
“It’s hard to explain.” He sat on the edge of the mattress, smoothing a hand along the planes of his face. Behind him, a tendril of waning daylight pierced the bay window, casting shadows over his rigid features. Loren’s belly flipped at the sight. Naomi had been right. Something was bothering him, far more than the tension with the hostile pack.
Her past? It seemed doubtful her problems could weigh on his mind so heavily—but something was. Speaking at all seemed to take an immense amount of effort on his part. Finally, he cocked his head to observe her.
“There is so much I haven’t told you about our kind,” he said, subtly changing the topic. “Our gift for ‘persuasion,’ for instance.”
He paused as if gauging how she would react to that word.
A bubble of excitement fluttered through her belly. “Persuasion?”
He nodded and stretched out his legs while he leaned back, bracing his hands at his sides. Taking the stance as an invitation, she inched forward, leaning against the door frame.
“It’s far more nuanced than the term suggests,” he began. “Compulsion is the slang for it. A blunter way of saying that we can exert our will over others, even our own kind. It’s how the Alpha maintains control. Order. There is a hierarchy as well, but it extends well beyond any physical constraints. It’s internal. A lycan with a strong will can plant suggestions into the minds of others, as well as manipulate thoughts, feelings, even memories. If you’re good enough, you can even see those exact recollections as if they were your own—though typically, only an Alpha can master that skill.”
Loren went cold. An Alpha… Or a girl who felt a need out of nowhere to tell a much older, much stronger man to submit. Her mind kept replaying that day over and over again, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice it. Besides, she had another example of this “compulsion” in action.
“Is that why I listened to you?” She was referring to their first few meetings in particular. Certain phrases from him had resonated like commands, compelling her to respond against her will. To refuse, she had to consciously resist him.
“How do you mean?” He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to explain.
“When you would say things, it was like I couldn’t ignore it. I had to obey.”
