Leo
Altair crashed so hard in the morning that I worried if he hadn’t had me there, he wouldn’t have made it to the safety of my dark bedroom. One moment he was mumbling something to me about not wanting to go back to the house, and the next he was simply asleep.
It was a bit unnerving, that.
He still breathed sporadically when asleep; I supposed that his body’s instincts still demanded it, presuming it needed oxygen to survive. One couldn’t exactly control sleeping impulses.
But then, this was what I’d been trying to tell Viktor.
Altair was still so very human, in so many ways.
Unlike the lot of us, who’d been born wolves, Altair had been born human, and then even once he’d become something else, he’d been subjugated, stuck under someone’s thumb. Someone monstrous, who’d taken joy in hurting him and making him feel small and helpless.
Altair still had the instincts of a human. Run. Hide. Tremble in fear.
He hadn’t been a fighter as a human, and the fact that he’d forced himself to stay and fight when the witches had come had been a constant struggle against his instincts, not moving with them.
Not simply an extension of who he was. Altair didn’t believe it after so many years of being forced by Ivan to look out for himself, but he was a good person.
If for nothing else, and I was sure there were many other justifications, Ivan deserved to die for that.
For making Altair so desperate that he thought he was a feral monster.
Altair hadn’t been feral since the moment we’d met, and maybe not even then.
Sure, attacking me had been a terrible idea, but I didn’t think he’d done it out of sheer mindless hunger, but something more sensible and human.
Plain old hunger, and the awareness that he wouldn’t get far if he were starving.
Maybe that should worry me like it would Viktor, but it did not. Because attacking me had been more sensible than asking me if I’d give him blood freely. What sensible person would assume a stranger would agree to such a thing?
Maybe I was sick and broken for enjoying it, but also . . . I was tired of feeling like there was something wrong with me. With Altair, for those beautiful silent moments, I hadn’t felt wrong or sad or broken, or like an outsider in my own pack.
I’d felt like I belonged.
The silence inside me had been stillness, rather than fear.
And that? That was worth fighting to protect.
So after putting Altair in my bed, I marched downstairs to see my family, determination growing in every step.
No one had slept much, which wasn’t a surprise.
The pack was in danger, so sleeping was a luxury.
I’d drifted off for a little while laying by the river, but I’d gotten nothing close to a full night’s sleep.
Then when I’d woken, a sleepy Altair had been smiling down at me, stroking my face, like I was something precious.
I’d slept in his arms, and he hadn’t even left me on my own, let alone attacked me.
Viktor was sitting at the kitchen table, as were Aleks and Cash. Evie was nowhere to be seen, which was odd, since Cash was there.
Come to think of it, it was a little strange Cash was there at all, and not already off working on the new pack buildings. He often worked sunup to sundown, tireless and perfect and selfless in a way I’d never managed.
Mama was at the stove, cooking sausages, and not long after I took a seat, she came over and started piling them on plates. “I trust we’re finished arguing about whether Altair belongs at the table?” she asked, tone short, but not angry. More like determined. Not to be questioned.
Since it was exactly what I wanted, I just nodded.
Aleks nodded too, and after a moment, so did Viktor.
Cash, on the other hand, sighed. “We’re really, truly sure that—”
“He is not like Ivan,” Viktor said, and his clipped tone was on the angry side. “Perhaps I still don’t trust him, but if he attacks anyone in the pack, it would be Leo, and he has made his choice in this.”
In that moment, I could have hugged my brother.
It wasn’t perfect, sure, but it was something more important: acceptance that I was a damned adult, and I’d made my own decision.
Sure, there was some stubbornness, and a little bit of ‘he’ll have to live with that decision’ in it, but that was fine.
I would happily live with the decision I had made, and all I’d needed was for my family to accept that.
Cash’s brows drew down, and he looked at me like I was a strange sort of puzzle, but he didn’t question the statement.
“All right, then,” I said, spearing a sausage with my fork and holding it up. “Altair has suffered enough at the hands of this monster. We need to find a way to handle this without him.”
Viktor raised a brow but didn’t start snidely questioning Altair’s loyalty or willingness to work with the pack. No, as usual, my damned brother went straight to the heart of the matter. “Did he ask for that, or are you deciding it for him?”
“Not like that,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’m not planning to lock him away like a princess in a fairy tale.
But you’re frightened of this monster, Viktor.
Altair has actually lived under his thumb.
He’s terrified of him. He also says that if Ivan gives him an order, he’ll be compelled against his will to follow it. ”
Viktor pursed his lips, but he didn’t say a word about killing Altair to head that possibility off. Instead, his gaze slid away, down to his plate of sausages. He didn’t start eating, though, which wasn’t acceptable.
“Eat,” I told him. “You have to keep up your strength. The pack will need you to fight when they come.”
Mama sat down at the table, carrying a plate for herself, as well as an enormous serving bowl of porridge for the whole table.
Aleks seemed to take my advice to heart, and dished a huge serving of porridge in one of the smaller bowls Mama had set out for himself, then for Cash as well.
That was when I turned to him, taking another deep breath.
“You’re not going to like this part, but we need to do it.
” He lifted a brow at me, but he didn’t question me outright.
Which made sense, as he hadn’t yet heard my idea.
“We need to contact the Crescent wolves. You said they had contacts in the city. Mages. Maybe one of them will know more about how to handle vampires. Right now, what we need is information, and we don’t have it. But they might.”
At that, finally, Aleks made a disgusted face.
I hadn’t met the Crescent alpha myself, but Mama had told me about how Aleks had reacted to him.
A strange sort of competitiveness that had finally dispelled her lingering doubts about whether Aleks was going to be a strong alpha, funnily enough.
Not that she’d said it precisely like that, but I’d known.
I knew Mama. Her body language. The relaxed way her shoulders sat when she was pleased with the resolution of something that had been concerning her.
I’d never worried about whether Aleks was competitive, but truthfully, it never would have occurred to me to think that was important for an alpha. He was my brother. I didn’t compete with him.
But then, maybe that was why I wouldn’t be a good alpha.
Not that it had ever come up, since Aleks had been slated for the role since before any of us even knew what it meant to be alpha, other than “the mean old man who yells at us.”
Me? I thought Aleks had been happier when we were children in Russia, and there was no leadership role hanging over his head, since the pack alpha there had been possessed of a dozen grandsons older than him.
All of them were dead or in government hands now, so I supposed that in a way, Aleks was the alpha of both packs. Just, one of those packs didn’t exist anymore.
“I will call Dakota,” Mama said, before Aleks could respond. “He gave me his number. He might not know anything, but he has a mentor he can ask. He seemed to think if anyone would know anything in the world, she would.”
Aleks nodded at that, and the breath I’d been holding went out of me with a whoosh.
Perfect. No alpha heads butting, and I could get the information we needed. Information that might save all our lives.