Chapter 81: Chapter 81

Atticus

Lily looked beautiful like this: painted in shades of red and orange and gold by the trembling brush of the firelight, one side of her face cast in navy shadow and the other all the brighter for it. She was smiling at him, and there were no reservations in her eyes.

Atticus froze, losing himself in those irises. They were like autumn, he thought, brown and gold and, right now, lit by heat like the curled ends of a crisp orange leaf. He did not dare dip into the depths of her pupils, wide and honest and glittering like the stars above.

She cupped her mulled cider between both hands and blinked up at him. “So?”

His brows pinched together. “So what?”

Her lips twitched. He never wanted this moment to end – chilled by the night air, warmed by the firelight, with Lily beside him, teasing and smiling and speaking to him like – like she liked him.

“I said, ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’ In private,” she added, with a slight quirk of her eyebrows.

Atticus could feel the truth rising in his throat, but he squashed it. “It’s not important.” Offering her the crook of his arm, they started to loop further away from the bonfire. “I just… I just wanted to talk to you.”

She stiffened, but relaxed into his touch as he allowed the silence to settle between them. Atticus listened to her breaths, to the steady drum beat of her heart, and waited. For once, he was not impatient; he felt no need to force her answer from her. He felt… Serene. At peace. His brow crinkled. Who did he think he was? Serene? Peaceful? He was a warrior. He was an Alpha.

He tugged his arm free. Lily stumbled back and, for a moment, hurt lanced his heart. She turned sad, doe-like eyes on him, and as their gazes met Atticus saw the fire in them go out.

Just like that.

And that was why he didn’t bother. He’d tried. Really tried. And yet Lily was still so quick to distrust him, to look at him like a stranger. Like worse than a stranger, for he could see her evaluation of every second they had shared up until this point – and there was no way to wipe that slate clean. Her full lips drew down, her chin dimpled, and he knew he’d broken the spell between them.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked again, her voice cut through with steel.

Part of him liked it. Her fire was what made her perfect for him. But another, deeper part of him felt empty: this liminal space of his own creation was one of eternal twilight, caught between day and darkness, stuck loving her without being able to truly grasp her.

He straightened his back. He’d fought hard for her. He wasn’t about to give up now.

“Look,” he murmured, catching her hand and towing her further from the fire and deeper into the swelling darkness, “I know what you went through in Red Ripper. I want to help you get back at them.”

Lily’s throat bobbed. His eyes snagged on the movement; he wanted to press his lips to the hollow just beneath it, to kiss upwards, along her jaw…

“It’s not about getting back at them,” she sighed. Her words made his daydreams dissipate, like a gust of wind blowing out a candle. “I want to be able to move on. I don’t think I’ll be able to until they’re gone. And… I don’t want them to be able to hurt anyone else. I think that has to come first for me. But this isn’t about vengeance, Att.”

Att. Just like that, his hopes soared anew.

“But they hurt you. Don’t you want to hurt them back?” His brow furrowed.

She tightened her grip on her cider and rocked back on her heels, twisting away from him slightly to stare up at the open night sky. “We’ll always be different in that respect, won’t we?” she murmured.

“We aren’t different,” he snapped. “You just don’t understand–”

“What don’t I understand?” she interjected coolly.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What it means to be an Alpha wolf. They wronged you, Lily. You must show yourself to be more powerful than them.”

She levelled her gaze at him. “You were the one that made a deal with them. Not me.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Did that make you feel powerful?”

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “It did. Because I got you, Lily, and stupid Alpha Nobody walked away with nothing. I did the right thing by you, and that was so much more important than anything else.”

Lily went very, very still. She took a deep breath. She said nothing.

Atticus raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to thank me?”

She spluttered. “You expect me to thank you?”

“Obviously. I saved you, didn’t I?”

Lily pressed her lips together. Her knuckles had turned white where she held the cider.

He scraped a hand through his honeyed hair. “Listen–”

“I think I’ve listened to quite enough for today. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Lily!” He caught her elbow as she turned away from him. Panic flared, white-hot, in his chest. The memory of the mate bond throbbed and pulsed, pressing him from arrogance to desperation. “Please – don’t go.”

She spun on her heels, her wavy hair flying out behind her. He caught and held her gaze, and something in his eyes must have swayed her, for she crumbled before him. She swallowed noisily, wetly, and bowed her head.

“I’ll stay,” she said. Nothing more.

But also nothing less, Atticus thought. He reached for her, but she yanked her hand away so fast that she tripped over her own feet and stumbled closer to the tree line. The small grove suddenly looked menacing: all spiny, gnarled branches and bony fingers. Atticus grabbed her and pulled her back towards him.

He wouldn’t lose her again. Not now. He couldn’t.

Her hand hung limply in his, but she didn’t pull away. Not this time. A sigh of relief rose in his chest, but he held it in. He refused to let her know just how much power she held over him.

“Thank you.” The words felt foreign on his lips.

Lily tilted her head curiously at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before,” she teased lightly, some of the stiffness in her frame loosening. With her bones so stark beneath her skin she always looked more tense than she had before, when she’d been rounded and muscled and healthy. Atticus felt his anger rising at the sight of her collarbone, pressing so hard against her skin he feared it might snap.

“I don’t usually have to. Come on,” he added quietly, nudging her with his knee, “let’s walk.”

He would never admit it, not even to himself, but the grove of trees was making him uneasy. There were eyes in there – eyes locked on him, he was sure of it. Atticus repressed a shudder.

The silence between them felt natural. “I wish we could’ve always had this,” he mused, so quietly that he felt the rumble of his words in his chest more than in his ears. “It’s nice.”

Lily glanced up at him through her dark lashes. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I’ve not been entirely honest with you.” He kicked a rock with the toe of his boot. It shattered through the quiet of the night, and suddenly Atticus could hear the low murmur of chatter by the bonfire, as well as the crackles and pops of its flames. “I did want to talk to you about something.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to get to know me.” Her lips twitched, but the smile came nowhere near her eyes.

“I do know you. Better than anyone.”

“Okay, then.” She pulled him to a halt a short distance from the fire. It caught one side of her face, warming it and burnishing its single brown eye, which lit up with the promise of a challenge. “What’s my favourite food?” Her face fell as soon as she asked it, but she was quick to pull her mask back into place.

Atticus didn’t bother worrying about that. Maybe she’d had an itch. He scoffed. “How am I supposed to know that? The Omegas do all the cooking.”

“Not for the last month, they haven’t,” she said softly. “I thought…”

He cupped her cheek. “What?” It was smooth and warm; fireworks exploded in the palm of his hand. But Lily froze.

“It’s nothing.” She pulled back. His hand felt cold, bereft, the kiss of cool autumn air against it feeling more like frostbite.

He swallowed hard. “Tell me.”

Her brow puckered. “What?”

“Tell me what your favourite food is.”

She fixed her gaze on the grass. “Garlic bread,” she muttered, like admitting it aloud was somehow treasonous.

“We have wheat. We have butter. We have garlic.” Atticus nodded, more to himself than to her. “I’ll have an Omega make some for you.”

Lily bit back a sigh. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes still set on the ground.

Atticus cleared his throat. “I like meat, fresh from a hunt. But I don’t know if it’s my favourite. I’ve never thought about it before.”

Her gaze flicked up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really. I’ve always been too pre-occupied to think about food. Running Blood Moon… It’s a big responsibility.”

Lily bit her lip, paused for a moment, and then took his hand, tugging him down to sit on the grass beside her. It was cold, a little damp from dusk dew, but all Atticus felt was the heat of her fingers pressed against his.

“Tell me,” was all she said.

He shifted uncomfortably. “I… There’s not much to tell. I’m proud of my pack and what I’ve done with it.” He puffed out his chest. “I was born to be an Alpha. This is my duty, my birthright. That’s all.”

“Do you never feel overburdened by it all?” Shit, there was something in her gaze, all soft and gentle and warm, that made him want to bare his soul to her. She pursed her full lips before adding, “Every choice you make impacts somebody else. Lots of somebodies.”

“You could say the same for anyone,” he hedged. She blinked up at him, all doe eyes and long, dark eyelashes, and he found the truth spilling from his lips without him ever giving his mouth permission to speak. “It is hard. I made a bad choice, all those months ago, with White Oak. We’re still paying the price for that now. And I can’t ever let anyone in, or let them know when I’m hurting, or when I regret something. That would make me look weak.” His jaw clenched. “I can’t ever look weak.”

“Sometimes admitting to weakness makes us stronger,” she murmured.

Atticus scoffed. “How? You admitting to being too afraid to fight doesn’t make you any stronger, does it? You still cower from the battlefield.”

Her face fell. “You can’t ever just be nice, can you?”

“Maybe you’re too sensitive.”

Her chin dimpled and her cheeks flushed. She bit her lip, hard, and breathed deep, before eventually composing herself enough to ask, “What did you want to talk to me about?” in the flattest voice Atticus had ever heard her use.

He balled his hands into fists. Women, he thought, the word a guttural snarl in his mind. So sensitive. He had to tiptoe around everything he said with her. Maybe that was why she liked Alpha Nothing so damned much. He looked more like a damp flannel than a real Alpha. Not like him.

But… Atticus didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He felt the red flare of his anger, and he held it there for a second, letting it burn, before he forced it down. He was so close to claiming her, his mate, and achieving everything he’d worked so hard for. He vowed to himself, then and there, to never lose her again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know why I say things like that.” He shook his head. “I don’t mean to. I’ve meant everything I’ve said, Lily. About wanting you. Needing you. It’s just… It’s new for me. Letting someone in.”

“It’s okay.” Her throat bobbed.

He sighed. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Her eyelashes glittered with tears. His stomach clenched. He’d done that to her. He’d been the one to hurt her. “Ask away,” she mumbled, through a tight throat.

“I know you don’t want revenge, but you do want to see the Red Ripper pack gone.”

She faced him then. Her fire was roaring, though her cheeks were damp with tears. “I want it destroyed. I want to feel safe again.” Her eyes darted around, and he wondered if she, too, had felt uneasy in the shadow of the trees. “And I want everyone I love to be safe, too. No, it’s more than that.”

“Tell me.”

Her lips twitched, but the fury in her eyes didn’t die out. Not even a little. “That pack… It’s wrong. Inherently wrong. They’ve twisted the laws of nature, and nobody should have that much power. We have to stop them. So they can’t hurt anybody else. Anybody at all.”

He nodded. “That’s why I want you to fight at my side, Lily. I want you to shift with me, with my pack – our pack – and fight with us. As my Luna.”