Chapter 62: Chapter 62

Elijah

Halfway through the shifting purple light, a hand gripped Elijah’s bicep.

“Alpha,” hissed Conall. “Stop. Listen.”

Elijah turned, his frustration evident in his sharp gaze, but then he heard it, too: harsh voices, forced low, winding through the trees. Reluctantly, Elijah pulled free of the magic and stepped back, eyeing it warily.

His wolves kept quiet. Even their hushed breaths sounded too loud as they strained to hear. It was two men – Elijah was sure of it. Their voices growled and grumbled through the pine trees, ricocheting back and forth but never quite loud enough to hear.

And then a shout broke through the silence, sending slumbering birds soaring into the night sky.

“You continue to lack faith in me!”

Devyn took a step back. A twig snapped underfoot. Her eyes widened, so large and so white that they shone through the darkness. Her youth an inexperience shone too, and it made something tight and firm knot itself in Elijah’s chest. Using his thumb, he twisted Lily’s garnet ring around his index finger.

Then he held that finger to his lips. He gestured for Conall and Devyn to fall into step behind him. Conall moved to the back of their short convoy, his sharp eyes alert for trickery or traps as they slunk through the forest.

There was no sound save for the rustle of quiet footsteps for a few long moments. Seemingly satisfied that they were not about to suffer an intrusion, a voice broke the silence.

“I do not lack faith in you, Son,” sighed a voice, one that Elijah thought likely belonged to an older, though not old, man. It was slow and dripped with tiredness, but such traits were temporary, and were coiled around a pillar hard as iron. “You do not know what Tristin saw.”

“I do.” The other voice, now they were closer, was clearly tight and clipped and filled with misplaced pride. Elijah could picture the raised chin, the smug eyes, the pouting lips… Without seeing the speaker, without seeing him, he already felt certain that he was on the older man’s side.

Turning to Devyn, Elijah held up a hand to signal that his wolves should halt. She nudged Conall in turn.

“Red Ripper’s magic…” There was a beat of nothing. Elijah imagined the older man swallowing, or looking away, even as his heart skipped at the mention of the Red Ripper pack. “It is like nothing we have ever faced before. We cannot know for certain that she is there, Son.”

“We have to try.” Desperation edged in to the younger man’s tone. “I need her.”

“I know you do.” A sigh, loud enough that Elijah could hear it plainly. “I know. And I know that your destiny can seem overwhelming. I’m afraid that growing up with such responsibility ahead only ever seems to overshadow the rest of a person. You have been made for this, and maybe this shall be the making of you.”

Though Elijah did not entirely understand his meaning, he resonated with what little he did. He’d been forced into the position of Alpha at twelve years old. Even before then, he’d known it was lurking ahead, a giant blazing signpost amidst the hazy imaginings of his future. His place in the werewolf hierarchy meant that he had no choice in his own adulthood. He was to be the Alpha of the Sea Pine pack, and that was the end of it. His throat bobbed.

“This is not a matter of fate, Father. This is a matter of mistakes. My mistakes,” he added gruffly.

“Mistakes I fear your mother and I may have pushed you to make. You were not thinking of yourself, and now that loss has consumed you.”

“The pack must come first.”

“Not always, Son. Not always. The pack is nothing without you. You cannot honour it without first honouring yourself.”

Elijah’s heart ached for his own father. It had been so long since he had heard such wise and noble counsel.

“She was wrong for me!” The younger man’s voice cracked.

“Not necessarily.” One of them shifted, their feet sending twigs and debris tumbling across the forest floor. “You cannot know the cosmic plan. But what is done is done, Atticus. You let Lily go.”

Elijah froze. He did not hear another word the older, gentler man said. His tongue suddenly felt too big, fat and swollen in his inexplicably dry mouth.

“Alpha…” Conall warned.

But Elijah was already moving, shoving through the trees. Fire nipped at his sides, twisted across his palms. It took everything in him to quieten it.

“Alpha Atticus?” Elijah hardly recognised his own voice. It was full of fury and bristling, uncontrollable rage. This was the man that had hurt his mate so terribly. This was the man that had belittled her, had made her feel weak and without purpose.

This was the man that wanted to steal her from him.

The younger man frowned, seemingly disinterested. Elijah felt a flicker of recognition, though he had never seen the young Alpha in person before. But he had heard Lily speak of him; she had told him of his arrogance, of his pride, and he saw it all in the way Atticus carried himself. His broad frame was held tall and wide, as though he tried to take up as much space as he possibly could.

“Who’s asking?” he purred in response – entirely at odds with the way he had spoken mere moments ago. Elijah’s hands were desperate to set this man alight, but he pushed down the surging anger. His fire had got him in this mess. It would not get him out of it.

“Alpha Elijah Pine of the Sea Pine pack.”

“Is that so?” Atticus raised an eyebrow, the movement clearly visible even in the low light. “How convenient for me.”

“Convenient?” Elijah growled. Hold on, he told himself. Hold on to yourself.

“I can kill you here and be done with it. So much less messy this way.” He cracked his knuckles, the snap-snap-snap of bone unsettling in the dark woods.

Unsettling indeed, but it made something snap-snap-snap inside of Elijah, too. He drew his sword from where it was sheathed down his back. “How right you are,” he bit out. “I would not want to waste my pack’s lives – no matter how badly I wish to see you dead.”

The older man – the ex-Alpha Alvaro, Elijah presumed – bristled at that. “Speak to my son like that again and I shall have your head, boy.”

Elijah saw fire.