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Atlas and I are walking down one of the large communal hallways, but it’s late, so we’ve not come across anyone yet—other than the pictures on the walls that I always feel are watching me, that is.
“He seemed different this time,” Atlas comments, breaking the silence we’d fallen into.
Surprised, I look over and find him waiting for me, his expression questioning. The fact that he’s talking about Syn without scorn or disgust and seems to genuinely want to know more is a huge step. In all of the lust and need that came from my reuniting with Syn, I almost missed the fact that Atlas was so supportive of this and didn’t cause problems. He said he was going to try, and he really has.
I smile at the comment, trying to show my gratitude, but I’m sure I just look exhausted. “Having me close helped, so he was more himself.” The explanation is basic, and there’s much more to it, but I see him nodding along, so I’m encouraged to continue. “He’s an alpha, but he had no pack, so it made him become a little… different. I wonder if that’s what caused his separation from me to be so dramatic.”
I reach his side, and he begins to walk again, keeping pace with me, a frown pulling at his brow as he digests what I told him.
“I thought you said that wolves without packs can turn feral.” He sounds wary and confused, and given his past with feral wolves, I don’t blame him.
Pursing my lips, I think carefully about how I’m going to explain this given I don’t know the full details of how the council managed to keep him sane, only that they did. I glance at him and find him watching me expectantly.
“You’re right. Syn was offered a job with the council when his pack was killed,” I begin. “I guess they acted as a makeshift pack, and it was enough to keep him from going feral.” I shrug to show that I don’t fully understand. “When we mated, he became part of a pack with me and my other mates.”
Atlas seems to ponder this, leading us through Haven with the ease of someone who’s lived here most of his life, not needing to concentrate on which corridors to take. “So,” he begins, “with you gone, he started to lose the essence of himself?”
Despite the subject matter, I find myself smiling. It’s only the smallest glimpse of a smile, but seeing Atlas understand the consequences of us being separated warms my heart once more. I’m so proud of the change he’s beginning to make, knowing none of this is easy for him. “Essentially,” I agree with a nod of my head.
Thinking of the discrimination Atlas has overcome makes me think of my other mate who’s trapped here with us—Nicolai. With everything happening in court and with Syn, he’s not been on my mind as much as he should be, and I still have that strange feeling in my gut that something is off. Pressing my hand against my stomach as if it will ward off the feeling, I clear my throat to catch Atlas’s attention. “Can we stop by Nicolai’s room before we go back to mine? I want to see if he’s okay.”
There’s a slight pause as he fights against the urge to argue. I know he views this time in the evenings as our time when he gets me all to himself, and due to all the chaos of the last few days, that’s not happened. There’s a flickering of jealousy and frustration from our fragile partial bond, yet I’m surprised and pleased when they settle after only a few moments without me having to say anything. What I find even more impressive is that this isn’t just him suppressing those feelings—no, he’s managed to work through them and accept that he’s always going to have to share me. At the end of the day, it’s going to be him in my bed tonight, and the sense of smugness I feel from him tells me he’s come to the same conclusion.
Nodding at my request, he rests his hand on the small of my back and leads me down a different corridor, detouring us to Nicolai’s room without a word. The place he touches tingles, the heat of his palm warming my skin even through the layers of my dress. He’s become much more open with touching me in public recently—not in the sense that he’s making out with me in the hallways, but a casual touch here and there, guiding me with gentle movements. Most wouldn’t notice it, but I sure do, each one burning into my skin and leaving its mark on my soul.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say quietly, keeping my gaze ahead in case anyone is listening. “It means a lot to me.” I’m feeling emotional tonight, and if I look at him, I might just start to tear up, something I refuse to do in public. It may appear to be empty in this corridor, but you never know who’s listening, and I know for sure anything overheard would be reported back to the queen.
I feel his intense gaze on me, and his response is on the tip of his tongue, but we arrive at the corridor that leads us to Nicolai’s room, so whatever he was going to say dies on his lips. Reaching the door, I knock and attempt to enter as I usually would, only to find it locked. Frowning and staring at the door as if my very gaze would cause it to open, I knock again, straining my ears to see if I can hear him inside. There’s a single heartbeat inside the room, so I know he’s there. Why is the door locked, and why isn’t he answering it? Has something happened?
My own heartbeat speeds up as my concern grows.I knew there was something wrong.Why didn’t I come here sooner?I berate myself, biting my lip as I wait impatiently, hoping that perhaps he’s just slow to open the door. This doesn’t last long, and my patience snaps. I pound on the door so there’s no way he could miss it. My hand barks with pain, and the wooden door groans under my assault, but I’m past the point of caring.
“Laelia,” Atlas murmurs quietly, taking my hand in his as he uncurls my fist and checks it for damage, but I’m hardly paying attention, too busy straining my ears in an attempt to hear anything from the other side of the door.
“I said I didn’t want anything to eat,” comes the muffled response, filled with frustration.
Frowning, I share a look with Atlas. While it’s obvious that he doesn’t know I’m on the other side of the door, Nicolai would never speak to anyone like that, and he certainly wouldn’t turn down food. It takes a lot of energy to shift and carry our wolves within us, so werewolves eat like rabid beasts, and nothing comes between us and our food. While he may no longer have his wolf, I’ve seen how much he eats, and for him to turn down food means that he’s either unwell or something else is wrong. He sounds close to his breaking point, and I don’t know how I didn’t feel anything from the bond. Why didn’t I know he was suffering?
“Nicolai, it’s me,” I call out, attempting to keep my concern from my voice. “Are you okay?”
Silence greets me, followed by quiet cursing which is so out of character for him that it worries me all the more. Atlas obviously can’t hear any of this through the door, so I can see his confusion at my growing concern. Frowning, I pull my hand from his and reach for the handle, trying to get into the room again, the bond keening in my chest to be with my mate, only to be stopped by the damn lock. Snarling in annoyance, I shove against the door. “Nicolai, I will break this door down if you don’t answer me.”
Star snarls next to me and seems to agree that the door is our current enemy, her hackles raised as she shifts her weight from foot to foot, ready to attack.
“I’m fine, Laelia,” Nicolai snaps, his voice almost unrecognisable from the male I know. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”
A quiet gasp escapes me, and I step back from the door as if his words were a physical blow. He just swore at me. Now, if Syn or Atlas swore, it wouldn’t affect me so much, as it’s part of the roughness of their personalities, and I know it wouldn’t be personal. However, for Nicolai to speak to me like this… It feels like he just smacked me, the pain of his callous response reverberating through my body and making me question everything. Nicolai would never speak to me like thisever.
My thoughts turn on myself, pouring blame onto me. The only reason he’d act like this was if I’d done something, because of course I’d be the only one to break Nicolai’s sweet nature. Has he finally gotten fed up with me and needs to take a break from being around me? Has he realised exactly what he’s given up to be by my side? My own fears are being projected onto the situation, escalating it within my mind and taking me down a rabbit hole of misery.
Before I can spiral down any further, Atlas is at the door, his hands glowing with power as he presses them against the wood, his patience fracturing at feeling my pain. “Listen here, fucker. If I ever hear you speak to her like that again, I’ll—”
My breath mists before my face as the temperature drops rapidly from him using his magic, and I realise that things could get messy very quickly. We’ve made such leaps with him accepting Nicolai and my other mates that I’d hate for this to cause us to slide backwards on his progress so far. I touch his arm to get his attention, needing to deescalate the situation. “Atlas, it’s fine.” Miraculously, my voice is steady and firm, but my true feelings betray me through the bond as he senses my pain.
Atlas must not be the only one, because I hear a sigh from the other side of the door, followed by soft footsteps. “No, it’s not.” Nicolai’s weary voice gets louder as he moves across the room. I hear him take a deep breath, and then the door opens. It’s the smallest amount, so I can just about see his face through the crack, his body blocking the view of the rest of the room. “I’m sorry, Laelia. I’m just really tired. Today has been a long day. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Despite his expression and his words telling me otherwise, I know there’s something wrong, but if he doesn’t want to tell me, I can’t force it out of him. He’s always confided in me in the past, so this just feels… wrong. Even so, I have to respect his wishes, and if space is what he wants, then I’ll honour that. Needing to reassure myself that he really is okay, I scan his face once more. He does look exhausted, just like he said, and todayhasbeen long in more than just the physical sense of time, but emotionally too. Perhaps I’m overthinking things.
No, you’re not, the voice in my mind whispers, my gut churning once more. Star butts up against my legs in an attempt to reassure me, and my fingers instinctively brush through her silky, starry fur.
