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“Do you want to do this or should I?” Louisa asked.
“I’ll do it,” Stone said flatly. He always shouldered the worst burdens grimly, as if that were expected of him as alpha.
Cole forced Peter against the rock and bound him to it. Stone lay down on the other side and grabbed Peter’s hand as the man fought. Louisa’s voice intoned steadily, the sound drifting up like the incense that I was pretty sure she only lit to set a mood.
When Stone rose, his face was furious.
Cole unstrapped the man’s hands and feet.
“Run,” Stone commanded.
He waited as Peter scrambled through the woods.
Then Stone ran after him, already forming into his wolf.
He ripped the man’s throat out right before they reached Main Street.
“I’m surprised you didn’t wait to do that in front of the entire pack,” I drawled as he wiped blood off his hands. “In case there was anyone left here who wasn’t terrified of you.”
“If they don’t do anything wrong, they have no reason to be terrified,” Stone answered, almost managing to sound reasonable.
But I worried about my brother, maybe even more than he worried about me.
CHAPTER5
Amelia
I droveus to my mother’s house in the middle of pack territory. It wasn’t a mile from my own house, but I didn’t go there often. Lawson still lived next door, and it was dangerous for me to see him.
And seeing my mother had its own issues.
“We’re at Grandma’s house,” I told Dylan brightly.
“We’re seeing Grandma today? And Uncle Aiden and Aunt Rose?”
His happy excitement made me smile too.
“Maybe! We’ll see if they’re home.”
As I opened the door, he was already unbuckling and scrambling out of the car. My mother opened the front door and rushed out onto the porch, scooping him up into a hug. The two of them shared a long, tight embrace before she set him down again.
“Hello, Amelia,” she said, her smile dimming when she looked from Dylan to me.
She’d looked at me that way my whole life, but somehow, it never stopped hurting.
“Hi, Mom.” I hugged her briefly, the briefest ceremony of patted backs and shoulders barely touching. “Mind if we stay for lunch?”
She always played the proper hostess. “Of course, I’d love to have you. I have soup on the stove.”
When I was growing up, my mother always had a full cookie jar, soup on the stove, bread dough rising on the counter. My childhood had been chilly but well-fed, and my friends had been jealous. It had made me so furious when they acted like I was lucky to have her as my mom.
Someday, I’d figure out why she’d never loved me like she loved Aiden and Rose. I couldn’t help thinking that something about me must be broken, something that made everyone want to hurt me, punish me, break me.
But then I remembered the way Brennan had looked at me, starry-eyed and smiling, and the way Dylan curled up in my arms or stared up at me like I hung the moon. I could cling to those memories and think maybe, maybe, I wasn’t the broken one.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee, soda?” my mother asked.
It was strange to be treated like a guest in the home where I’d grown up. “I’ll just get myself some water, thank you. I’ve got my coffee already. Is Rose home?”
