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I sink even deeper into my seat. “It’s about Rafael, isn’t it?” I guess.
He jerks his head. A nod.
Okay. I take a deep breath, blowing it out through my nose. I knew this day was coming. I mean, it’s been common knowledge that I would have to leave Hickory for three years. I might have hoped it could’ve been a decade more, but as the Luna already proved to me, you don’t always get what you want.
“He’s getting ready to be Alpha?”
This time, Bishop shakes his head. And then he surprises me by announcing, “He already is. Had his Alpha Ceremony two Lunas ago.”
What?
To make matters worse, there’s something in the way Bishops says that so certainly, it’s like this isn’t news to him like it is me.
“How long have you known?”
“A month.”
“What?”
He nods again. “When I contacted the Alpha of the Gravetail Pack to see if they had any information where Quinn had gone. Her mate was an outsider, and I thought he might be from Darkwoods. The male I got on the phone wasn’t Luis. It was Rafael. He took over for his father two months ago, canari. He’s the Alpha now.”
“Why didn’t he tell you?” Because he would’ve gone through Bishop to get to me. “Why are you only telling me now?”
“It’s one thing to take over a loyal pack. Xavier picked me to be the next Alpha so I never had any challenges. Rafael… he wasn’t so lucky. His hold on his pack wasn’t as strong as mine was after his Alpha Ceremony. He wasn’t gonna bring an omega she-wolf into that mess. Not until he was sure he could protect you. He’s ready now.”
I understand that. It’s for the same reason why Bishop would have kept that knowledge close to his vest. Why tell me when all I would’ve done is worry about what was going on in the Darkwoods—and fret over my deadline to leave the Sylvan Pack looming closer and closer.
Because he knew how I would react—and what it would do to his Beta to find out that Rafael is prepared to take me as his mate.
It seems like a million years ago that we were having a similar talk. It was only three, but I remember it clear as day. Now, like then, my only thought is to ask:
“Does West know?”
“I told him this morning, canari.”
A lump lodges in my throat. “Oh. Um. Okay. And he’s doing all right?”
“He took off for the hickories as soon as I told him.”
Well, that answers my question, doesn’t it?
He’s not doing all right at all.
* * *
West doesn’t thinkI know what he does when he disappears into the hickories.
He doesn’t know thatIknow that he shakes off the mantle of being the Beta, lashing out at the trees, using them to bleed, to hurt, to grieve, torage… but I do, because I know West.
And if there’s anyone who understands what it’s like to need to have a few moments to themselves to be something different than what everyone expects you to be… it’s me.
Omegas don’t get angry. Beta’s don’t rage.
But sometimes… sometimes wedo.
That’s where he was when I was meeting with Bishop. This time, my brother gave his Beta and advance warning so he could get himself under control before he—inevitably—faced me again.
Which he does. Barely five minutes after I arrive at the Omega cabin, head whirling with everything Bishop told me, West comes racing toward me.
