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It’s been a lot of years since then.
Dread and his packmates, Ryktus and Laithe, were welcoming when no one else looked twice at me.
I like to think I’ve repaid their kindness by looking after the men and women who work in The Den and by helping their business run smoothly. But as my oldest friend in the human realm buries his face in his hands, shuddering out a sharp breath, I know I’m going to have to dig deep for this conversation.
In general, I do try to keep things fairly unemotional.
Fae are not known for embracing our feelings, but I’ve known since I saw Dread with Emerson that she’s his mate.
I’m happy for them.
Dread goes out of his way to protect all the weaker residents of Haven, which cannot be said for all alphas. The poor mutt has just taken a bit too long to catch up to reality. Shifters are extremely territorial when it comes to their mates.
Dread may willingly share with Ryktus and Laithe, because the hound views them as pack, but Arysn is an entirely different story. Although, they have been friends for several hundred years, so maybe it won’t be a problem?
“I’m going to have to kill him and send him back to Hell,” he mutters, completely destroying that illusion.
Or not. I was obviously far too optimistic for this shit show of a night.
“We’ve been friends for more than a few lifetimes. It will be inconvenient for a while. I believe Emerson might be upset, initially. She’s very soft, even for a human—”
“Dread.” I take my seat, giving him a look that indicates he should listen closely to what I say next. “If they’ve truly bonded, then you know that’s not possible.”
“It will be if I tether her to me first,” he says very seriously. “I’ll bond her, then kill the sex deviant. Our connection will be enough to keep her alive.”
I try to hold back the laugh, but it bubbles out, anyway. He’s delusional. Perhaps he thinks he can murder Arsyn, but he’d never actually go through with it. The hound would never risk losing his mate’s affection.
“Think clearly for a minute here,” I suggest. “Are you sure you’re prepared to cause Emerson the level of suffering she would experience if Arsyn dies? It’s not just survival you need to consider. It’s her quality of life...”
I give him a look that saysthink that shit through, you giant blockhead.
Octavia, Dread’s mother, lost her mate when her pups were very young. She lived through it, but it was exceptionally painful, by her own account.
Dread’s father is likely still in Hell. He hasn’t reappeared to reclaim his mate or reconnect with his children. I’ve heard rumors that, when a demon is reborn, they lose all their memories.
It’s a devastating reality, now that I think it through.
Dread always refers to his father as being dead, but the reality is, he’s likely living in Hell with no idea of what he lost...
That thought is truly terrifying, and it makes me unnaturally sad to think about.
“You’d put Emerson through the same heartache that your mother experienced?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Hell no,” he snarls. His eyes glow bright red, and I lower my gaze to my desk.
I do it out of respect, not submission. He’s extremely riled, and my being difficult right now will only make his beast even more agitated.
“My suggestion is that the two of you hash it out among yourselves when Emerson isn’t around.” I stretch back in my chair.
Dread crosses his leg over the other. His foot jiggles so violently, I think the floor rattles. “He said he was open to sharing,” he scoffs. “Like he needed to give me the okay to be with my mate.”
The next forty-five minutes of my never-ending existence are spent listening to Dread get relatively calm, only for him to somehow talk himself into a rage again. At this point, I’m pretty much convinced he’s never going to stop rambling.
“Right,” I say, sighing heavily. “So, we’ve surmised nothing can be done, and you’ll feel better if you go check in on her yourself.” I stand, politely indicating our meeting is adjourned. “Bond her. You’ll feel better once you have a claim to solidify your relationship. Although, I do recommend asking prior to biting.”
“That’s a good idea.” My boss pushes himself out of his chair. “There are forms in my office for Emerson’s and Ember’s addition to my pack.”
I frown, because it’s just after three in the morning.
