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The various emotions he'd feel on the daily, the ongoing behind-the-scenes interactions and meetings he'd have on our pack's behalf, and his own personal duty as Alpha to make sure we didn't just die randomly were some of the many burdens he carried rather flawlessly.
Deep down, I felt like Dimitris expressed his anger and annoyance easily because it would make him look strict while telling the rest of the world he was a no-nonsense kind of man. No one would think twice about pushing him around in this field of business, and in the shifter realms, he'd be feared by those who underestimated his power.
The hardest part of that was he didn't have a shoulder to lean on. He couldn't just share his own insecurities and needs in hopes someone else would fill his shoes and take over for a few damn minutes.
This was what he signed up for, and he either had to suck it up or cost us, his pack, the consequences his absence would potentially deliver.
Dimitris calmed down after a few minutes. My muscled chest was drenched in his tears, but I didn't care. A good cry always helped one feel a little better, even if it was a fragment of peace.
"Now, Alpha," I began to catch his attention as he pulled out of the hug to compose himself. "You're supposed to confide in me when you're in need of a helping hand."
He huffed, which made me smile, but his eyes softened as he nodded slightly.
"Too bad you were dealing with Dark Lords trying to eat your soul."
"You should explain that to my clueless self because that sounds both cool and fucked up," I voiced. "Do eaten souls cross over?"
"If the Dark Lord likes them enough," he answered without missing a beat, which surprised me.
"Dimitris." My rough voice was low. "Did I trigger something?"
He didn't say anything at first, his eyes staring into mine as if he were trying to find even a smidge of judgment in my orbs. He clearly didn't find any because he swallowed the lump in his throat and ran his hands through his short locks.
"You didn't do anything," he admitted. "It wasn't your fault...I'm just tired."
I knew there was more to it than that, and I reached out for his hand to tug him close enough that his waist was at sink level with him between my spread-out legs.
'There's more than that, isn't there?" I quietly asked up close, our lips just barely touching. He closed his eyes and leaned in to press his forehead against mine.
I didn't pressure him to say anything more while embracing how this intimate moment felt. To humans, this would have been weird, but between wolves, this move meant so damn much.
It meant even more to me because this symbol of respect finally applied to me. It was a sign that included me as another wolf shifter and not a mere human.
"When Mihkel died...it was around the holidays," he whispered. "He was my younger brother. It was years ago...when I was younger and too blinded by the desire to get revenge for our family after being outcasted. My father was like Roberto. Not in the sense of abuse and torture...at least not to us, but he was a man of promises. He was lost in a delusion of power, thinking no one would betray him. He was a fool walking upon a path towards his doom, and when he finally ran out of wood to walk upon, his 'loyal' packmates let him fall. They sold him to the highest bidder and he was tortured and killed. Our mother disappeared, and I could only assume she was killed as well. Heck, maybe she ran away to start a new life, who fucking knows. Regardless of their actions and doom, Mihkel and I were homeless."
I was surprised by his admission as he leaned slightly back to fiddle with my hand in his grasp. "Due to the circumstances of my father's death and the obvious label of ‘criminal,’ we lost everything: the luxury, the fame, the respect. We became trash in a matter of twenty-four hours, and we started to live our lives as homeless boys," he explained. "It was hard, especially during the winter months. It was the first time in a long while that Cali was getting hit with snowstorms. It almost felt like the Universe was punishing us, but we fought through it, the cardboard shelters and starving stomachs. We did everything we could to survive, until I had enough."
His eyes sought mine as he lifted his gaze.
"How could I be an Alpha and be struggling? How could I allow us to be so beaten down by the harsh cruelty of society's selfish ways of life that we'd go days without food and barely any water? I was sick of it, and so I decided to get my hands dirty and work towards making a reputation for myself. It wasn't easy, and most of the time the things I did were illegal, but at least it proved I was alive. It proved that I could be a force people bowed to, and my actions helped us finally get shelter. I covered my hands in blood, and after a while, I began my search for my own group of Forbidden."
He smirked slightly as the memories surely filtered through his mind.
"Neo was first. Then came Saint, and soon Jayce joined. We were all different, but there was one thing that brought us together," he admitted. "We were all endangered wolves. Types of wolves that didn't carry the normal instinctive forces. Our titles were sacred, if you want to think about it that way, and we carried power no one could comprehend until it was pushing them towards death. Our uniqueness was what built our reputation quickly. Soon enough, we were rich, and it wouldn't be long before we could finally find a place of our own and just do what we wanted."
He stared at my fingers once more, and I could see the sadness well up in his eyes.
"I was working my ass off to make Mihkel proud. For him to be protected and soon, to have the ability to do whatever he wanted. I was so lost in my desire that I didn't notice his decline. I didn't grasp the signs until he couldn't handle my change anymore. I'd cloaked my hands in too much blood, and I guess...I was no different from my father. No different from the man who placed us in our horrendous predicament, and maybe he ultimately feared I'd die just like Father and leave him behind with nothing."
He shrugged as a single tear left his eyes once more.
"Mikhel's suicide wasn't necessarily his decision," Dimitris whispered. "The night he died, he'd been walking through a forest, one that resembled the one you and Saint were in. They call it Suicide Forest because the suicide counts in those depths are unimaginable. Every state has one, and sadly, my Mihkel stumbled upon ours."
He closed his eyes and squeezed my hand as he muttered, "Those blood roses are the reason for the high rates. Their scent permeates the forest at a certain time every night, and it lures those with the darkest set of thoughts during that prime moment. They have no clue it's happening because they're lost in their own crumbling sadness, and it's not until they kill themselves that they realize their blood is seeping into the soil and feeding those very flowers, and that they died in vain. That their desire to die wasn't strong enough to finish the deed without assistance, and though they got exactly that, they all regret it. Every single one."
My heart dropped as I recalled years ago when I'd landed in that forest and met the food stand man who listened to all my troubles. I was desperate to be heard and was just tired of life, and he most likely saved me from that very fate.
"Seeing that you could have gone down that same path frightened me," he admitted. "Deep down, I knew Saint wouldn't eat your soul. The type of wolf he carries eats souls when he triggers his dark side. The problem with that is that he can only eat the souls of those who have inflicted pain upon him. An enemy who has every intention of killing him. A woman who fakes being in love with him for money. Anyone who carries the intention of hurting him can have their soul eaten by that dark side of his, but it doesn't mean he doesn't mind having a mere taste. Everything from that to the worry and tension from the others, and then Onyx's obvious jealousy…it was just fucking with me. It's just too overwhelming and I just need a moment to fucking breathe."
