Page 48 of Brutal Reign
River takes a jerky step backwards, unfolding her arms and punching her hands on her hips, instead. “Since when are you two so interested in my life?”
“We’re not,” Seb grumbles.
She snorts a laugh. “Coulda fooled me.”
Seb’s hands curl into fists as he quickly reaches the end of what little patience he has. “You want us to askhim?” he snaps.
River’s eyes fly wide in alarm. “There’s nothing to tell!” she blurts, throwing up her hands exasperatedly. “He was interested, I wasn’t. End of story. Now about this tattoo…”
“You’re not getting a fuckin’ tattoo,” Seb snarls.
I’m about to ask him why again when it finally dawns on me what has him so worked up. The very reason tattooing River appeals to me so much is the same reason he’s so against it– because marking her skin with a design drawn by my hand would mean she’d have a piece of me permanently etched on her body, while he never will.
Fuck.
Guess I can’t blame him. I understand his position, and I’ve gotta respect it.
“Sorry, Riv,” I grumble, tucking my tattoo gun back into my kit. “Forgot that I don’t tattoo chicks.”
“Wow, Ace, didn’t peg you as a misogynist,” she deadpans. “Your mom must be so proud.”
“About as proud as your dad, I’m sure,” Seb remarks.
Goddamnit.He didn’t have to go there; he knows full well that any mention of her dad will strike a nerve. He never fucking thinks before he speaks.
River’s responding flinch betrays how well that hit landed, her face twisting up in a scowl. “Fuck you guys,” she spits.
“Can’t the three of us just coexist here?” I groan, rubbing two fingers against my temple.
“No, I’m fucking done with your bullshit,” River seethes. “I don’t care that we used to be friends, you guys are assholes. Ihateyou. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, just leave me the fuck alone.” She whips around, stomping away to go rejoin her friends while Seb and I slowly turn to look at one another.
He allows his mask of indifference to slip for a moment, and the guilt I see in his eyes reflects my own. It’s gnawing away at me, twisting up my insides and making me fucking nauseous.
If we were trying to push River to her breaking point, then I guess we’ve succeeded. There’s no victory in it, though. I just feel empty.
17
Idrag in a deep breath, holding for a count of three before releasing it. Then I draw another, holding for a count of four this time. As I slowly exhale, going through the motions of this well-practiced ritual to center myself, my pre-shift mantra echoes through my mind.
I’m safe. I’m at peace. I’m in control.
Honestly, I’m not sure whether meditating like this actually even works. My mom taught me these calming exercises, though, and since she’s the smartest person I know, I’ve made them part of my routine whenever I know I’m going to let my wolf out to play.
My pack should be arriving soon. Every month, we gather here at the packhouse before shifting to run together under the light of the full moon. It’s the time when our wolves are at their strongest, fueled by the moon’s energy and instinctively called to run beneath it. Not only is it a monthly bonding exercise for our pack, but it’s also the only time when mate bonds can be forged, either chosen and sealed, or gifted by fate itself.
I’ve never bothered dressing up for the occasion before, but since my dad made my eventual ascension to Alpha rank officialby announcing it before our last full moon run, I’m suddenly under a microscope. I feel the way the pack’s already looking at me differently, as if they’re searching for signs of weakness or doubting my capability to lead. It’s ridiculous that I have to endure this kind of scrutiny; taking the Alpha rank wouldn’t even be questioned if I was born a man.
Since I wasn’t, I’m dressed like the confident badass I hope to actually be someday, rocking pleather leggings, a bralette, and a sheer jersey– all in black. I’ve got my hair slicked back in a high ponytail, and I actually took the time to do my makeup for once. In the words of Taylor Swift, I’ve drawn the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man, anddamndoes it look fierce. When heads turn my way tonight, they won’t see the sweet little Alpha’s daughter. They’ll see an Alpha in her own right.
Or at least that’s the goal.I’m training to become a warrior, so it’s about time I started acting like one. No more hanging in the back, hoping to slip by unnoticed on full moon nights. It’s time to assert my rightful place as the Alpha heir.
I do a few more rounds of deep breathing before I call it good, checking my reflection in the mirror one last time before leaving my bedroom and heading downstairs. I’m feeling good, completely at peace and ready to burn off some energy in my wolf form. Of course, I should know by now that when things seem to be going well, it’s only a matter of time before the other shoe drops– and I’m halfway down the stairs when the mention of my name stops me in my tracks, prompting me to grind to a halt with my hand gripping the railing as I listen in on the conversation happening below.
“I’m just saying, it’d put the pack at ease if they knew she had a strong mate to lead with,” Cory’s deep voice rumbles. It’s easily recognizable to me– he’s my dad’s Beta, so he’s been around my entire life.
“She’s too young for a mate,” my dad growls in response.
“She’s the same age I was when Cory and I mated,” I hear Ellie point out. I’m not a big fan of Cory’s mate; she’s never been particularly warm and fuzzy toward me, and she’s always tossing her unsolicited opinion around like she knows best when she definitelydoesn’t. “And the same age as Brooke when you two…”