Chapter 6
6
DONOVAN
“You’re a prick, Donovan.”
Those were the last words that Hunter said to me as I slammed the front door shut, unable to deal with his or Liam’s accusations.
“You’re supposed to be our leader.”
I am.
Which is why I know what’s best for them, and most of all, I know what’s best for her.
And what’s best for her is not being a part of pack Axton.
We won’t be able to give her what she needs, and eventually, we would fall apart.
That doesn’t stop me from depositing another large sum into her personal bank account.
She may hate me for it, and I may keep my distance, but that doesn’t mean she’ll have to want for anything anymore.
April.
The Omega that we will say goodbye to once the contract expires.
There are only a few events left, then it’s off to Kelly’s wedding, and then…
Goodbye.
It’s what’s best for all of us .
The cemetery is quiet, with no visitors.
The four-hour drive gave me too much time to ruminate on my thoughts, all swirling and blending to the same conclusion.
After the contract, it’s over.
And now, with just the chilly air and headstones to keep me company, my decision is final.
When I get back, I’ll talk to her about what to expect for the next few weeks.
My inner Alpha disagrees and tries to claw his way to the surface.
Take her. Claim her.
The tension in me is so strong that it makes me nauseous.
But as I sit on the bench, staring quietly at the grave that no one else visits, I stuff the bile down.
You will fail her, just as you fail everyone else.
My phone buzzes, and I almost smile at the text that my private investigator sends me.
After the incident with Clay at our home, where he mentioned O in front of April, he left with a black eye.
But now he’ll be left with the view of a jail cell.
It took a few calls and a couple favors to ask, but Clay will never attend another party again.
He was hit with felony drug charges associated with the trafficking of Omegas, and his life was ruined.
Especially now that he sits in jail with no bail, awaiting a prison sentence.
Fuck Clay to hell and back. I’ll never forget the look in April’s eyes or the way her scent soured when that drug was mentioned.
I wanted to kill him right there, consequences be damned.
But ruining his life will have to suffice.
You’re going to ruin April’s life, too, if you end this , a part of me argues.
April will move on, forget us, but I’ll still keep an eye on her. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of, even if I have to stay hidden and keep an eye on her through my private investigator.
Hunter and Liam will deal with it, and they’ll understand one day.
I already failed her once, allowing Clay near her vicinity. I won’t do it again.
That’s all you do. Fail the women in your life.
I sit on the bench and run a hand through my hair.
Priscilla Axton’s grave could be nicer. Even though it’s embellished with cherubs and delicate engravings of roses, I’m sure I could have done more.
Maybe I could have found better doctors. Maybe I didn’t exhaust all my resources.
Hunter and Liam would say otherwise—they already have, numerous times.
She died alone because you were on a business call.
Guilt weighs heavily in my chest, a constant reminder that I can’t help anyone I care for.
I’m a shit friend to Liam, and an even shittier person to Hunter.
A son that couldn’t even be there for his own mother.
I’m an asshole, through and through, and I won’t drag April down with me.
April, the kind, beautiful Omega that smells like salvation and everything I don’t deserve.
April, who alleviates Liam’s anxiety and makes Hunter laugh more than I’ve ever seen.
April, the one woman that makes me want again.
She deserves better.
I won’t fail her, too.
I don’t arrive back at the packhouse until the sun is setting, and I expect April to be with the others.
But I find her in the backyard, nursing a glass of wine, her gaze distant and her eyes glassy.
It looks like I won’t be having a conservation about the contract anytime soon.
She looks up at me, a small frown on her face. “Look who it is,” she mutters. “Mister Broody.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How much wine have you had to drink?” I demand.
“Why? Are you going to tell me what to do again?” she huffs.
I let out a low growl. “If you keep acting like that, maybe I will,” I snarl.
When I’m around her, I forget that this is all a facade.
She’s not my girlfriend, and she’s certainly not my Omega.
But here, when she looks at me, her face flushed and lips parted, I want her to be.
“You can’t act like this,” she murmurs, her eyes softening. “You can’t disappear for days, then come back and try to tell me what to do. You can’t act like you care .”
There’s a shadow over her features that I’ve never seen before, a longing and sadness that mirrors mine.
And I don’t fucking like it.
I pluck the glass from her hand, and she glares at me. “Act like I care?” I repeat quietly.
“It’s obvious I mean nothing to you,” she says, anger fueling her scent. Cinnamon mixes with vanilla, and I want to lick the sweat off her skin and see if she tastes as delicious as she smells.
I’m sure she does.
“You have no idea how incorrect you are,” I say, slamming the glass down on the table. “And you don’t want to push me on this, Omega. ”
“Or what, Alpha ?” she snaps back sarcastically, her intensity fueling my own anger. She stands and faces me, craning her neck up to look at me. “What will you do?”
I know she’s picking a fight.
But accusing me of not caring when my mind has been so consumed with her is enough to make my temper flare.
I stuff it down. None of this should matter anymore—she’s not my mate.
Yet the thought makes my chest ache.
“That’s what I thought,” she says bitterly. “You’ll do nothing.”
Her light brown eyes shine with sincerity and hurt. “Where did you go, Donovan?” she asks. “Ever since my Heat, something has changed.”
My eyes narrow. “Nothing has changed. I know exactly what this is. I’ve known what this is the whole time.”
A contract. Nothing more.
A flash of hurt flickers on her face, and I want to rage at myself and her.
“You’re a goddamn liar,” she whispers. I can smell the alcohol on her breath, and I know this conversation has to end before I say something I regret.
And my Alpha instincts can’t handle any more of the lying through my teeth about my feelings for her.
So, I take a step back. “You should sleep. You’ve had too much to drink.”
She chuckles. “You’re impossible,” she mutters. “You really are, Donovan.”
She’s pushing and pushing, and I’m close to abandoning my decision altogether.
Maybe we could be a pack.
You’ll fail her, eventually.
“And you’re inebriated,” I snap.
She snorts. “Forgive me for having a couple glasses of wine.”
“I don’t think I will.”
She stares at me, her lips slightly parted. “What the fu?—”
With a quick movement, I scoop her into my arms despite her protests. She wraps her arms around my neck out of instinct, and my inner Alpha rumbles at the contact.
“Put me down,” she hisses. “I’m not a child.”
I don’t listen to her. “Then stop acting like one.”
“You…” she huffs but doesn’t fight me anymore. She relaxes in my arms, and I take my time carrying her through the house.
“You don’t have to carry me all the way up the stairs,” she grumbles, but her eyes close and she hums contentedly.
“I don’t trust you to not fall down them and break your neck,” I reply easily. “It’s easier to get you to your room this way.”
The urge to protect and care for her has never gone away since I met her in her café for the first time.
She’s had my interest since the moment she rang me up at the register.
And since our first dinner, she’s permanently occupied a place in my mind.
It’s fucking torture, made worse by the knowledge that the contract expires soon, and she’ll be out of our lives.
I take my time carrying her up the stairs to her room. I savor her scent and the way she feels in my arms.
I commit it to memory, knowing this will be the last time I hold her.
There’s something better out there for her.
You will fail her.
But I’ll protect her from afar.
I’ll keep tabs on her with private investigators. I’ll make sure she never needs anything again, but none of us will be in her life.
“I wish you would talk to me,” she whispers. “That’s all you have to do.”
I stiffen. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
I take the steps slower, because holding her feels right, and I want my scent on her.
“I do,” she murmurs. Then she closes her eyes and rests her head on my chest, her body growing slack in my arms.
I carry her the rest of the way to her bedroom, taking more time than necessary. When I open her door, I take in the sight of her nest, and something tugs at my chest.
I should be in there with her.
I should be fucking her, knotting her, and keeping safe her in the pile of blankets and pillows.
I spot Liam’s and Hunter’s jackets in there, and one of mine, sitting near on top of her pillows.
Fuck.
I place her carefully on the blankets, and she frowns as I back away from her.
“Don’t—” she mumbles, her eyes still closed. “Donovan?—”
I steel myself and take another step back.
Then another.
Until I’m out of the room, leaving April by herself.