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Honestly, there were a lot of benefits to being a Were.
But if Donovan was looking even a little tired, then he must be exhausted. So, why wasn’t he sleeping?
“Some” wasn’t flying with me. “How much sleep did you get exactly?”
He closed the distance between us, cupping my face in his hand. “Don’t worry, my love. I’m fine.”
Fine. That was the kiss of death. And he hadn’t answered my question. “Donovan…” He sighed, and all his good-natured humor drained out of him. “Are you having nightmares again?”
“No. It’s not that.” He paused. “Or not just that.”
After the demon battle in the chapel, he’d had a few nightmares. During the fight, one of the demons had gotten hold of me and was dragging me to the pit of hell. I’d seen down into the abyss, and I knew exactly what my fate would’ve been if Donovan hadn’t gotten there in time. The problem was that when he killed the demon, it let go of me, and I’d almost ended up falling down the pit anyway. He’d caught my leg just in time, but it was close. Too close. And Donovan had some residual guilt because of it. He shouldn’t have any. He saved me. But he felt like he’d fumbled and nearly lost me.
I didn’t like that he was still having nightmares. It should’ve been me having them, but I wasn’t dwelling on what almost happened. He had to let it go. “I’m fine. You saved me.”
“I know. It’ll take some time before I get over the sight of you falling… But it’s not just that. It’s been a busy go the last few years, but I’ll be okay,” he said. “After all this mess with the fey is sorted, maybe we’ll take a wee holiday.”
“That’d be a start.” But I wasn’t settling for “wee.” Not if he was this exhausted. I’d known he was tired after the fight in Santa Fe, but he’d had to rush off to calm down the rest of the Seven, and then the fey were upset… But things couldn’t have been this intense for the last few years. I’d have heard about it. Wouldn’t I?
He gave me a soft kiss and left, but my worry still lingered. The man was always rushing off to deal with his pack or the latest Were crisis, but when was the last time he took a break? If he’d ever taken one. Which meant I’d probably have to make him take some time for himself. But that would be a Band-Aid on his bigger problem.
Was being one of the Seven and a pack Alpha too much for any one person to handle?
I sat down heavily on my bed. In the few months since we met he’d rushed back and forth across the globe dealing with all kinds of issues. He hadn’t been back to his pack, and he certainly hadn’t stopped to take a breath anywhere. Not even with me in Texas.
Cosette’s words ran through my mind again. Could he be so busy with Council work that he didn’t notice his pack was falling apart?
It was hard to imagine. The pack bonds were always loud and present in an Alpha’s mind. At least that was how my father described it.
No. Cosette had to be mistaken. Because if she wasn’t, then something was seriously wrong with my mate.
I quickly threw on some leggings and a sports bra. No shoes or shirt were needed. Not when sparring with Donovan. He was almost worse than my brothers. Not in the sense that he’d wake me at all hours to train, but when we worked out, it was serious business. I’d end up a ball of sweat and out of breath, which didn’t often happen to a Wayfarer.
The little hole in my leggings would’ve horrified my mother, but I didn’t care. They were comfortable, and that was all I needed from leggings. I made my way through the halls, and popped into one of the kitchens for a smoothie on my way to the gyms.
To protect Weres and humans from all types of supernatural threats, Wayfarers had to be in top form at all times. But we had more than enough gear for three packs.
The exercise wing of the estate had a studio for yoga and tai chi. Another room was filled with a Pilates instructor’s wet dream of reformers, Cadillacs, and chairs. Weight lifting equipment, TRXs, and boxing bags packed the room next door. You name it, we had a room full of it.
Today I headed straight for the sparring gym. I was enjoying the last little bit of my smoothie when I pushed through the double doors and stepped foot onto the mat. It was the largest room in the wing and void of any equipment. The black mats that lined the floor and walls had some spring to them and a thin layer of padding, but that was it. The walls had no windows. Nothing in there could break. Except for me.
All my brothers were standing around the room. Perfect. I was so glad Donovan had managed to find them. Each of them looked like variations on a theme. One had hair a little longer, another with shorter, varying levels of facial hair, and of course, Micah had his million and one tattoos. But all of my brothers were tall, at six feet seven inches, with the same white-blond hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. “What? The whole pack couldn’t make it?”
“Eh. Don’t want you to get too embarrassed, little sis,” Matt said.
“Like that ever bothered you before.”
“I asked that it just be them,” Donovan said.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Family is one thing. But you sparring with unmated males is another.”
I barely held back the laugh that threatened to break free. It was really sweet and actually made me feel a little awesome that he’d be jealous. Even if it was completely absurd. Donovan was my mate. There was no contest. At all. Ever.
“Might want to put that smoothie down,” Donovan said. He was standing in the center of the room. “We’ll do our warm up first, and then your brothers want a try at you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You beat one brother once…”
