42

Book:ALPHA'S BANE Published:2024-6-2

“You all right?” I ask him, but he ignores me. There’s a nasty gash from a rock on the back of his head, already healing. He ignores that too.
“It wasn’t personal,” he tells Trey and Jared.
Trey frowns, and catches Jared’s arm. Together they turn and walk back the way they came. The kids around the trashcan fire are already gone.
“Trey, wait,” I shout. He waits. Jared looks back, shaking his head at both Grizz and me. He doesn’t say anything, but I know what he and Trey are thinking.
Betrayed by one of their own. Again.
I reach out to touch the wounds on Trey’s face, but he jerks back. “Trey, I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, weariness shadowing his face, making the bruises and cuts look even more disastrous. I can’t believe he fought a grizzly bear.
“You shouldn’t be messed up in any of this,” he says. He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds ancient. Dead. He rubs his hand over his face. “You were getting glamoured by the vamp in there, and you’re stepping in the middle of shifter fights in a fucking wash. You were born for so much better than this seedy life.”
My eyes widen in alarm. What is he saying? This sounds like a freaking breakup. And he only marked me last night.
But I am sick of other people deciding what I was born for. I wasn’t born to rule a pack. That job was for my brother. Or Garrett. Just because my father’s pushed me into taking my brother’s role, doesn’t mean I belong in it. Yeah, I might do a damn good job, but that doesn’t mean I want it.
I haven’t been happy since-heck, since Trey and I split twelve years ago.
The first time he decided he knew better than me about what I should do with my life.
“You know what, Robson?” I snap.
My irritation catches Trey’s attention, wakes him from his stupor. “What?” He’s wary now, knows I have a bee in my bonnet.
“You don’t get to choose for me. This is my life.” I point at my chest. “It’s not for you to decide what’s safe for me, and what’s dangerous. Or what I should be mixed up in, or what college I go to.”
He recoils at the mention of our first breakup. His skin pales under the moonlight, eyes grow haunted. “I’m sorry, Sheridan. I know I hurt you-I hurt us. But-” He stares over at “A” Mountain-the peak that bears the University of Arizona letter-and shakes his head. “I’d do it all over again. I’d do whatever it takes to make sure you live the life a wolf of your potential deserves.”
Tears of fury spring into my eyes. I shove his chest and when he wheezes, I realize with horror, he probably has broken ribs. I stumble back from him. Can the two of us ever be together without hurting each other?
“You’re not listening to me, Trey. You. Don’t. Get. To choose for me. And until you figure that out, we have no future together.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s how it has to be.” His bloody lips barely move.
Hot tears spill down my cheeks. I turn on my heel. “You’re an idiot, Trey Robson!” I shout over my shoulder as I march off to my car.
TWELVE YEARS AGO
Sheridan
I’M TOO AGITATED to think. I have a mid-term to study for, but I spend the entire day Saturday thinking about Trey. I know what he’s doing and I absolutely hate him for it.
Except I could never hate Trey, especially because I know he’s doing this out of love.
For me.
Stupid, protective male wolves.
Even though I pick my phone up to text or call him every ten minutes, I vow to give it a little time. Let him play this out for a week or two. When he sees it’s impossible for us to stay apart-when he’s as broken and lonely as I am, he’ll change his mind.
I’ll promise to go to Stanford. Maybe I can get him to come with me. I know he helps support his mom, but he could send her money from California.
Because I can’t stand being cooped up in the house anymore, I head out to the mesa. My friends are there, texting me to come hang out with our classmates.
I drive up and park, but the moment I get there, my instincts scream.
Trey’s motorcycle is parked with the other guys’. That shouldn’t upset me. Not really.
But it does. I look around, trying to figure out what I’m aware of-why my wolf is snarling.
Pam, one of my best friends, jogs over to me, her face pinched. She grabs my arm. “Come on, we gotta get out of here.” She tugs me back toward my car.
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you later. Trust me, you don’t want to be here.”
I stop, the alarm bells ringing louder. “You have to tell me.” My words are hard and firm. The alpha female in me coming out and dominating my softer friend.
She glances over her shoulder. “Did you and Trey break up?” She sounds scared, like I’m going to tear her throat out for asking.
I blink back the tears that pop in my eyes the moment she asks the question. “Yeah, sort of. Why?”
She jerks her head. “He’s over there with Kaylee Ryder.”
A snarl leaves my throat. I march off in the direction Pam indicated, and she follows right on my heels.
Sure enough. Trey is lounging on a picnic table-our picnic table-with his arm slung around Kaylee, his hand resting on her ass. He holds a beer in his hand, which he uses to gesture as he tells some apparently fascinating story.
Kaylee hangs on every word, laughing.
That bi-atch.