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I was the last to leave, giving one final glance at Nolan, his back turned, staring at the board. Between his physical reactions to certain details and his drive to hunt, there was one thing about this case I knew for sure: to Nolan, this was personal.
Chapter Eight
“What’s this for?” I asked Beckett, who placed a steaming mug of rich, black coffee in front of me. My eyes wandered up from the load of Elliott case files littering my wood-carved desk; I’d been holed up in my office for hours now studying them, the bright mid-morning sunlight beginning to stream in through the open window that took up most of the wall behind me. The morning had gotten away from me a bit too quickly, my eyes struggling to adjust from staring at nothing but words and paper for so long.
Beckett sat down in the plush black velvet chair across from me, crossing his legs and leaning back to take a sip from his own mug. “I thought you could use a mid-morning pick-me-up.”
“And you’re coming to check on me?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you never share your imported beans with me.” I sniffed, catching nutty caramel notes mingling with the bitter roast. “I’d be surprised if Liv was even able to drink this without you biting her head off.”
“I let her.” He smiled behind his mug, taking a sip. “On our anniversary.”
I shook my head. “Making my point—that you are checking up on me.”
I took the glass cup next to me, downing the rest of my ‘breakfast’, also known as a hefty serving of blood. As Ibridowyn, all of us in our Faction needed to feed on blood a few days a week. It was part of the enhancement and exchange of power, but when you gained immeasurable strength, you also needed to accept new weaknesses. As a Varg Anwyn Ibridowyn, I was no longer forced to transform during the full moon, giving me complete control over my wolf no matter the day or time. To balance that shift, I had to drink blood, like the Shrivikas.
On the opposite exchange, Shrivika Ibridowyn no longer had to feed multiple times a day but a few times a week to keep their strength. However, they also felt a calling to the moon, becoming erratic, a bit wild, and impulsive during a full moon phase. It was a give and take that was worth it to gain the strength and abilities needed to protect Kazola.
The ripened strawberry and dark chocolate flavors of Emric’s blood mingled on my palette, and I finished it off before moving on to the cup of coffee, the first sip as delectable as the scent.
“I know your first counseling appointment is this afternoon.” Beckett’s cheeks reddened at the mention. “Between that and Nolan’s arrival yesterday, you’re right…I wanted to check up on you.”
My muscles relaxed, sliding me down slightly in my high-backed chair. For the most part, I hated people hovering around me worried that the wrong move would make me crack again. A part of me knew it came from a loving, caring place. They all just wanted to make sure that I was on the right path to healing. Yet they didn’t seem to understand that the more they treated me like a delicate flower, the more I felt like I was about to break. They made me question my own strength, they made me wonder and second guess if I was actually doing better. Were they seeing something I wasn’t? Did they know this new me better than I did? It just made my mind jump to the worst conclusions, and it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore with each passing day.
Beckett was one of few exceptions.
He was one of two people that I allowed to approach me like this, and there was a specific reason why: Beckett had been there for me in a way others hadn’t. He had stood by me and tried everything he could to protect me.
In the end, he was the one who saved my life.
The memory hit my chest like a well-aimed punch, tugging me back toward that night. Ever since I’d started healing, I knew I would be forever grateful for Beckett. He had seen me at my worst and still helped me take the first steps in recovery; he gave me a second chance. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to repay him for that, but I’d been working every day trying my best to show my gratitude.
“I wish I could say that yesterday didn’t bother me.” I swallowed a sip, my throat constricting as it passed through. “But it crushed me the moment I laid eyes on him. He just kept walking around as though nothing bothered him. I felt like I could sense his judgment, looking down on me and seeing nothing but a weak little Beta that he wishes wasn’t working with him.”
Beckett just stared at me, his deep brown eyes filled with understanding, his lips pressed together in a hard line.
“Seeing him just act so naturally in his position, as if he had always been the Alpha here, it just…” My fingers scraped across my mug, “it made me wonder if the High Faction was in the right to take the promotion away from me.”
“Kas, no.” Beckett leaned forward, placing his mug on the edge of my desk. “I don’t know Nolan well enough to say if he is deserving or undeserving of this position. But even if he is, that doesn’t negate your worthiness of being the Alpha. Which you are, the High Faction’s decision was terrible and we all stand behind that.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, staring at the thin rays of sunlight cast against the dusty lavender walls and the paintings of Nana Aggie’s that hung on them. I was trying to accept the words he said with such conviction, but a dark, inky voice whispered in the back of my mind that it was all lies. “Can I admit something terrible to you?”
“Of course.”
“A part of me hates him.” My stomach twisted at the admission. “I know it’s illogical and I barely know him enough to make that judgment, but whenever I see him or hear him or even think about him, my insides feel like they’re on fire.”
“It may be illogical in some ways, but it’s not unreasonable,” Beckett said. “Sometimes emotions can get the best of us, and they can surprise us with their intensity, no matter how much we prepare to handle them.”
I snorted. “I hate it.”
“I know.”
“And to make it worse, the rest of you are anxious and stressed over what he plans to do to the Faction.” I threw my head back, my neck supported by the top curve of my chair. “If it was only affecting me, I could handle it, but to know that my mistakes and past are haunting all of you, it just makes me want to scream.”
“Stop putting all of the blame on yourself.” He took another sip of his coffee. “We are all grown adults who made decisions and acted on them. You can’t take responsibility for the actions of others.”
