Chapter 5
Tybalt
“Ican’t do this,” I snarled the second the door closed on Prodigy’s office, enclosing me in the heavy, dizzying scent of his oud aftershave and the hushed quiet that usually brought calm to the frenzy in my head. Right now, it did nothing. “I can’t watch her break like I broke. I can’t.”
My breaths came fast and angry, each one sawn off and rough, but it wasn’t true rage that made me want to lash out and trash the orderly office; it was hurt, and the slow, poisonous crawl of old memories.
I was right back there, flinching as a cruel laugh dominated my senses, hitting me like a slap.
Why would I want damaged goods? You’re a used-up mess. No one in their right mind would want you.
I slammed both palms over my ears, but the voice was inside my fucking head, and it did nothing.
Hot hands gripped my wrists, the heat burning into my skin like fire, purifying, cleansing.
My arms shook as he pulled them down, and the urge to let the hurt erupt in a storm of violence was so strong I had to bite my tongue until it drew blood.
I wouldn’t unleash myself on Prodigy. He was the only thing that tied my sanity together some days, and the last thing he deserved was my fist in his gut.
I wasn’t like that monster who bought my new omega friend; I didn’t hurt people. That wasn’t who I was.
“Breathe,” Prodigy barked, a command so powerful I didn’t even try to fight it, letting it carry through me until my lungs expanded, my lips parted. Barks didn’t usually work on other alphas, but I was so screwed up in the head, my instincts were disorganised chaos.
I curled my hands into fists, keeping them firmly at my side. “This is fucking pathetic. I’m thirty-six years old, I should be over this. If I wasn’t such a—”
“Finish that thought, and I’ll force you to recite ten self-love commandments.”
I groaned, slamming my lips shut. I let my head fall on his shoulder, my taller body arched over him as I gasped down air, tasting every note of the scents in the air, dragging him into my lungs.
He wasn’t joking about the self-love commandments.
Prodigy was a terror when it came to me verbally beating the shit out of myself.
He worked the tie out of my hair, slid his fingers into the strands, and gripped so viciously that my eyes watered. “Now, listen to me. I don’t give a shit if you’re ninety years old with even more wrinkles and saggy balls—”
“Even more?” I demanded.
“You were dealt a soul wound, Tyb. It left a lifelong scar, and you are completely justified in having emotions about it.”
“Fucking hate emotions,” I muttered. The bastard just kissed my forehead hard, and all my rage fled, leaving me tired and aching deep in my chest.
“You witnessed someone rejecting their mate, and that would be triggering for anyone. But if you think having a bad day means you can insult yourself, guess the fuck again.”
I rolled my eyes, but linked my hands behind his back, hugging him tight. “The bark was uncalled for.”
“The bark was necessary with your stubborn ass.” His grip eased on my hair, and he smoothed it down my back, even working out a few tangles from the long ride because he was a soft, affectionate bastard like that. I melted even further into him, a deep sigh leaving my chest.
“The next week, maybe even the next month, is going to be rough,” he said in a quiet voice that was mine and only mine.
“Sweetie rejecting his mate will rake up your past when you least expect it, and your automatic reaction is to pick fights and destroy shit. But I want you to come straight to me if you get any violent tendencies.”
I smirked. “I get violent tendencies twenty-four-seven.”
“Smartass,” he muttered. “You know what I mean. If it gets worse, you come to me. I don’t care if I’m busy, or if I’m away from the compound. Find me, call me, whatever it takes, and I’ll talk you down.”
“I’ll be fine,” I sighed, trying to ease the worry I belatedly realised I was putting him through. “It’s nowhere near as bad as it was years ago.”
“I know.” He drew back to meet my stare, his eyes full of steady, unwavering love and support.
It made me itchy, like I didn’t deserve this shit even eons of years later.
I was already rolling my eyes when he said, “And I’m so damn proud of how well you’ve grown, and healed, and worked on yourself. ”
I could have made a smart, derisive comment, but I bit my tongue. I liked the compliment, so much my ears burned and my eyes decided to sting like little bitches. “Fine,” I muttered.
Prodigy laughed, this soft whisper of sound that turned my smirk into something realer, more like a smile. He knew fine meant thank you. He knew damn near everything about me.
He tugged on a messy strand of dark hair. “So, what do you want to do about the woman? What’s her name?”
“Fuck knows. She refused to tell me.”
He laughed. A little too loudly. “It’s fun watching you clash with someone who gives as much attitude as you.”
“Yeah, hilarious.”
“There’s something I find interesting, though,” he murmured, light glimmering in his green-hazel eyes. Pretty fucker. Smug, pretty fucker.
“What?” I demanded.
“You spoke more than three words to her. Glued yourself to her side actually. And then hovered in the living room like an overbearing alpha ass.”
“Oh, shut it,” I grumbled, pulling away from him and stalking over to the sofa that had seen some action in its time.
I dropped into its cushions and groaned.
I loved being on my bike, but a five hour round trip played hell on my muscles, and it felt fucking sinful to rest my feet. “Take my boots off, would you?”
“No,” he laughed, arms crossed over his chest as he watched me, calling me on my bullshit.
I let the silence stretch on for four seconds, then groaned.
“Fine. She’s like an angry kindred spirit, okay?
I know what it’s like to be in her place, to hurt so much the only option is to force some of it on someone else.
Honestly, if she breaks Sweetie’s nose, I’ll fucking cheer. If she doesn’t, I’ll do it for her.”
Prodigy raised a red-brown eyebrow, looking almost impressed. I flashed my middle finger at him, which only earned me a sexy smile.
I scratched at the frayed fox head embroidery on the cushion beside me. “Can we just—keep an eye on her? Make sure she doesn’t spiral into depression or suicidal shit.”
Like I did, went unspoken.
Prodigy’s expression softened, until he was practically a different person to the stern, clever bastard everyone else knew as their president. I blinked when he knelt and unfastened my boots, pulling them off. It wasn’t like him to serve; I raised an eyebrow.
“We’ll keep an eye on her. Even if she goes home, we’ll make sure she’s okay.”
A weight lifted from my chest.
“Now get these damn jeans off. I’m gonna fuck all that trauma out of you.”
Thank fuck. I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough.