Alpha's Strength (Fallen Alpha) (15 page)

He opened and closed his mouth, still not saying anything. Wow. Her simple question had silenced him. Finally, he spoke. “I guess. I’m feeling guilty, as you put it, that Kyra is dead, that I let the bar outings happen.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Those are all huge factors, I’m sure, but I’m asking you if you are feeling guilty in relation to me, outside of Kyra. Is something else making you feel that way, which is why you are acting like such a goat? What is it? Let’s talk about that instead of going around in circles and you saying things I don’t believe you actually mean.”

Cyrus growled, and she sighed. He was going to exasperate her before they ever got to the airplane. “You can growl and fuss if it helps. I don’t mind.”

“You were screaming at me a minute ago.”

She nodded. “And now I have my temper under control.”

“Just like that?”

And now he was going to focus on how and when she got angry? “This time. I can’t promise to always be able to do so, but tonight I can. Count yourself lucky. You’ve had a hard day. I don’t want to be the crazy mate who screams at you when you’re down.”

“Shit.”

“Now who’s using inappropriate language?” She wasn’t going to yell, but it didn’t mean she would forget everything he’d spewed at her.

“All right, I apologize. Yes, I’m feeling guilty.”

She shook her head. Weren’t women supposed to be complicated to deal with emotionally? Betsy needed a roadmap to navigate Cyrus. “About what?”

“Because you’re right, and I don’t like it.”

She stopped for a beat and bit her tongue. Her first instinct had been to snap at him. What did he mean he didn’t like it? Why would it bother him that she should be right? But she tried to breathe through that response. He’d told her she was right. Rather than make things worse, maybe she could try to figure out how to make them better.

“I’m right?”

“Yes. You are. I’m wrong, and you’re right. Happy?”

This was the strangest apology she’d ever heard. Forget a roadmap, she needed a GPS to find her mate in this strange, raving lunatic who had taken over his body.

“No, not particularly.”

“Why not? I’ve told you that I did the wrong thing by not telling you what I meant to say to the pack. I contemplated it, but I knew what you’d say—that I shouldn’t make them that promise—because I know what I would have told you if our situations were reversed. I’d tell you no way in hell should you be promising your life to anyone but me. That being said, this is my role. I can’t be Alpha if I’m unwilling to throw myself in one hundred percent. They deserve nothing less from their leader.”

A bead of sweat had broken out on his forehead, and she wiped it away. “And that’s why you consciously decided not to speak to me most of the day and not tell me you were doing this.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Correct.”

“That’s pretty much akin to lying to me.” She wasn’t going to automatically let him off the hook, even if he seemed kind of sad standing in front of her confessing his sins.

“I suppose if you want to look at it that way.” He stalked over to the side of the stairwell and stared outside.

“How else should I look at it?”

“That I’m the Alpha of Manhattan and I’m not used to explaining myself. I don’t know how to do things differently, and I handled it badly. I apologize.”

She walked over and put her arms around his waist, leaning into his back. “I grew up on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, just me and my folks. You had all this family around you all the time. How do you not know how to communicate better?”

He snorted. “Betsy, everyone has done what I wanted since I was twenty years old.”

“Then you’re overdue to have a mate who doesn’t always feel inclined to obey your every order.” She really wanted him to understand what she said to him. “Particularly when it comes down to your safety. You belong to me, and I know you belong to all of them too. But you belong to me differently, and I’m going to cherish you whether you want me to or not.”

“I want you to.” He kissed her forehead.

“And you will eventually figure out you actually want to share with me.” Maybe if she put that out there to the universe it would happen. Maybe the moon would listen.

“I’m not used to it.”

She nodded. “I know. And you realize this puts to an end your whole speech about not lying, about always telling the truth.”

“Betsy, it’s not exactly the same thing.”

She shook her head. “How am I going to know when you’re holding back? When you’re not telling me things you should?”

He let out a long breath. “Okay, I promise to not keep things to myself that you should hear. I promise it. I swear my oath by it.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “That’s good enough for me.” She smiled at him, but when he didn’t return one, she had to ask him again. “What’s wrong, Cyrus?”

“No one is going to kill me, Betsy. No one is going to beat me in a fight or take Manhattan from me. I’ve never been bested, and I never will.”

“Oh no?” She raised an eyebrow. Male egos were clearly all the same regardless of whether they belonged to humans or werewolves. “When you’re one hundred and ten years old, you don’t believe that it’s possible someone could come and beat you in a fight? It must be possible, Cyrus. Look what happened to Lucian.”

He sucked in his breath, and she knew bringing up Lucian had been a low blow. But it was a fair point, nonetheless. He worshiped the man, whether he should or not. How could he forget that someone had murdered the Alpha Prime? If that were possible, it would certainly be possible for a strong, would-be Alpha wolf to show up and take Manhattan from him. “I’ll step down at one hundred.” He nodded, as though he appreciated his own idea. “That’ll work. At one hundred, I won’t do this anymore.”

“Is that possible? Have you ever heard of an Alpha stepping down before?”

He shrugged. “New precedent. It’s not like we all belong to some organization that can tell us what to do. There’s no Alpha Prime to oversee us. If I want to step down, I’ll step down.”

His words should have warmed her, but they didn’t. Nothing in her life had ever been simple. Even her parents had lied to her every day of her existence. It wouldn’t be as simple as Cyrus stepping down at one hundred years of age. Someone would want his head before then. One of her jobs, it seemed, would be to see that no one got it.

“Will we retire to Florida at that point?” She squeezed his fingers. “Become snow-wolves?”

If he noted that she covered up her distress in humor, he didn’t remark. Instead, his mouth came down on hers, and she forgot to think. Cyrus had a way of doing that to her.

With Betsy conked out on his lap, Cyrus stared at his sister across the aisle of his plane. This trip to Montana was going to make his accountant nuts. They would bill it to the company. The fact that his accountant was a thirty-year-old member of his pack helped things. He shook his head. This was technically pack business, thus also company business. Even if it was sometimes complicated to make the federal government see it that way.

His sister wasn’t really sleeping, but she was certainly pretending she was. Her scent, always citrusy, told him she remained wide-awake. But she’d closed her eyes during takeoff and hadn’t opened them since. He sighed and ran his hands through Betsy’s hair. His mate, by contrast, slept solidly. Cyrus would do anything to scoop her up and take her somewhere they could have privacy. Their romp in his office earlier after their fight hadn’t satisfied him. Maybe nothing ever would.

Cyrus drummed his fingers on the armrest and studied the plane. He’d take eighteen werewolves with him. Twenty, total, including he and Betsy. Almost everyone slept, although a few lights shone, indicating a few others were as awake as he.

Something had to be done about Lake. She’d been off before Kyra’s death, she’d not shown up at the moon ceremony, and now she pretended to sleep instead of talking to him.

He kicked her seat, and she jumped, her eyes widening as she looked him. “Yes, my Alpha?”

He heard the proper amount of respect in the term. If she’d said it sarcastically, as she sometimes did, he might have woken the whole plane with the way he would have hollered at her. Instead, he regarded her silently for a second before answering.

Lake had been a very happy child, even remaining that way after the death of their parents. When had she lost her
joie de vivre
? Had he not been paying attention? Empire building had taken up his time for a long while.

“Tell me what’s going on with you.”

She shifted in her seat. “I’m not having a very good day. I lost a pack member, and it’s entirely my fault. What did you think was going on with me?”

“Well…” He took a deep breath and sought the kind of patience Betsy had shown when dealing with him earlier. “For one, I think you’re lying to me, or, at the very least, you’re avoiding the question. That’s okay, little sister. I tried something like that earlier today. My mate wouldn’t let me get away with it, and I’m going to do you the same courtesy. I’ll try again. What is happening with you?”

His sister dug her fingers into her palm. He watched the brief act before she spoke again. “Listen, we have more important things to be doing now.”

“I don’t. I have hours ahead of me before I can act. So talk to me. We’ll never have a better opportunity than this.”

She looked all around, her dark hair flinging over her shoulder. Once, when she’d been twelve, she’d chopped it all off and spent the whole summer acting like she loved the boy cut she’d given herself. He’d known she hated it. He had smelled her desperation whenever she glanced in the mirror. Cyrus couldn’t scent an emotion coming off her now. His baby sister had figured out how to mask her scent from discovery, a trick his mate didn’t know even existed. Cyrus was both proud and horrified of Lake’s success. How much effort had she put in minute-by-minute to smell like nothing was out of the ordinary?

It must have been exhausting. But if she lied to him again, he wasn’t going to continue being pleasant. Family or not, Lake was his Healer. She constituted a very important member of his pack, and if she was having a nervous breakdown or had a major problem with something, he needed to know what it was before someone else died.

“Look, none of this is new. Why do we have to talk about it at all?”

He’d expected fabrication, but her hostility grated at his nerves. Flippancy from any member of his pack, save Betsy, was not going to be tolerated.

“Why do we have to talk about it?” He forced himself to stay seated, to remain calm. They hurled through the air at thirty thousand feet, trapped in only a steel rod with wings to protect them. His mate slept peacefully in his embrace. Both facts meant he had to stay calm—even if he wanted to throw something across the room.

“Well,” he continued, “we have to talk about it because your behavior, as of late, is unacceptable. You’re rude, difficult, and sarcastic. You’re drinking too much. You don’t show up to pack-mandated events, and, yesterday, a member of the pack died from an injury you should easily have been able to handle. That’s why we have to talk about it.”

Tears flowed from her eyes as he spoke, a steady stream falling down her face. “I wondered how long it would be until you got to the point, until you blamed me for Kyra’s death.”

“I don’t blame you for Kyra. I blame
myself
for Kyra. If you had been to the moon ceremony, you would know that. I should never have let you all continue going to that bar, not after I knew about it. I should have had my female pack members better protected. I blame myself. What I want to know is why my Healer was so unhappy that she drank herself into a stupor and couldn’t manage to call on the genetically driven, magical talents that allow her to save our lives when need be? For the love of all that’s holy, what is going on? What are you so afraid of? Tell me, for fuck’s sake.”

She wiped at her eyes. “What’s the point of any of it?”

Well, he certainly hadn’t expected that. Cyrus adjusted Betsy until she lay across the seat and he could stand up. The plane had hit a spot of turbulence, and he was certain that, had the flight attendant not been a member of his pack who wouldn’t dare contradict him, he would have been ordered back. But his sister had made a statement that was better addressed face to face.

He placed his hand on her arm and squatted in front of her. “Lake, I’d like you to explain what you mean.” He should have gotten his degree in psychiatry instead of a master’s in business.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re going to get killed, hitting the ceiling or something.”

“Oh, imagine that, you’d have to save my life.” He waited a beat, wondering if he should finish his thought. “Or maybe you’d let me die because there’s no point to any of it?”

She gasped, covering her mouth. “Cyrus, that is not what I meant.”

“Then I guess you’d better explain, sister, before I decide you’re unfit for your position.” Truth was, he’d been considering that all day. But what would they do without Lake? He’d have to actually advertise for a new Healer from another pack. Alexei would torment him about it for years. Lake had always been one hell of an asset for his pack, the Healer to rule all Healers.

But whether or not she could work for him anymore was moot. His sister had said something really dark, and as much as the Alpha of the pack had to consider logistics, as her brother, he’d freaked out inside.

“I mean we go about every month doing the same things. We get up, come work in the concrete hell you think of as heaven, and go home. And then we do it all again except for two days out of every month where we go to upstate New York and change into our animals.” She sniffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. There are also the times I go into heat and then I get to pick out someone I don’t care about to have sex with, which is like scratching an itch or putting on a Band-Aid.”

Cyrus let her words sit for moment. “Are you saying you’re bored?”

“Not bored, brother. Miserable. What am I doing with my life? Sitting at a desk acting as your assistant? You don’t need me. Ten different pack members could take over that job and do it better. I’m offering nothing, doing nothing. And the one time I had to step up and do something crucial, I screwed up. And now Kyra is dead. Whatever you say about it being on you, it’s on me. End of story.”

“Sweetheart.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what you want me to say about all of this. I built that business for all of us. Don’t you remember what it was like before? Or were you too young? Everyone running for their lives. Losing jobs. Changing into werewolves in the middle of the street in the rush to get home?”

“There has to be a middle ground, Cyrus.”

“No,” he shouted and then lowered his voice. Everyone remained completely still. “Not on this. Not after Kyra. I’m sorry you are so disappointed with life. I’ll work on figuring out something to make you happy.” Because that was his role, he saw to the needs of his people. “But I’m not compromising on the work issue. You may not go into the human hospitals where anything could happen and we could be exposed. I will not allow it.”

“I know.” She turned away from him. “I’m not drinking anymore. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Good.” He stood up and pinched her cheek. “I know I can count on you.”

He didn’t believe that, but she needed to hear it. Maybe saying it would make it true. He moved back to his seat and adjusted Betsy again. Lake blinked rapidly and then nodded to him.

There were things he would compromise about and things he would not. After Kyra’s death, there could be no relenting. If they did things his way, everyone went home to their families at night. He shook his head. They had to get in and out of Montana before the full moon. Seven days until it hit. His pack couldn’t be forced to change so far from home.

That was another thing he wouldn’t allow. Betsy’s first full moon would not be in a situation he couldn’t control.

****

“Are you okay?”

He was becoming concerned. Betsy hadn’t spoken since they’d gotten off the plane.

The pack had settled into the house he’d rented. It had seemed smarter to have a home base to come and go from rather than a bunch of hotel rooms. It turned out that they’d been able to rent one large house that had three guest homes associated with it. Between the three structures, they all had rooms, and no one had complained about sharing.

“I guess I didn’t realize how much I do not want to be back here.”

He knew what she meant. He’d have to be dense not to. Still, teasing her might get her out of her funk. He pointed to the floor. “Here? In this house? Have you used Vacation Home Rentals before? Stayed here?”

She pursed her lips. “Ha ha ha.”

“Oh, come on, it was amusing.”

He could see her trying not to grin. She looked away from him, and eventually her cheeks turned pink. Finally, she must have given in because a smile crossed her face. “You know I meant I didn’t want to be back in Montana.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad to me. I mean it’s been pitch-black and cold, but the air smells nice, and it seems like a person could hear himself think out here. Isn’t it considered to have a big sky or something?”

A knock on the door cut off what she would have said. “Come in,” he called out.

“My Alpha.” One his pack mates, John, stood at the door. “We went ahead and secured the perimeter. No unusual smells catching our attention. I think it’ll be safe for the pack to rest.”

Cyrus nodded. “Thank you.”

He’d had to leave Mitchell and Jensen behind. They were his two most trusted pack members. Mitchell was now his second-in-command—he had to hold New York in Cyrus’ absence—and Jensen needed to be with the kids. It was incredibly gratifying to see the others step up in their places. That was how a functioning pack was supposed to work. If one part fell, the others filled the void.

“You’re welcome. I’ll guard the door tonight. You and your mate can sleep peacefully.”

“No,” Betsy called from behind him. “You go to bed too, John. Get some rest.”

“Ma’am, I have to insist. It is our duty and privilege to keep you safe.” John planted his feet shoulder-width apart. Cyrus could read the insistence in his eyes. He’d once been the same when he’d been young. At seventeen years old, he’d wanted to die for Shepherd. Then he’d gotten a better sense of the man. How old was John? Eighteen? Nineteen?

Thanks to Betsy’s earlier conversation, all he could do was imagine the young man challenging him for Alpha. Cyrus growled, and John took a step back.

“Sir? Have I displeased you?”

“No.”
Damn it.
“Are you happy in this pack?”

“Happy, my Alpha?”

Cyrus tapped his foot. “Do you need a definition of happy, John?”

“Is that a trick question, sir?”

Betsy stepped forward. “Go to bed, John. The Alpha didn’t sleep on the plane. He’s tired. You’re doing a good job. But give us some privacy. Ten feet from the door, won’t you?”

John nodded, looking between them. “Yes, ma’am. As you say.”

When the other male had left, Betsy rounded on him. “Have you lost your mind? You were terrifying that kid.”

“I kept wondering if he was gunning for me. Thinking about becoming Alpha himself.”

His mate groaned and put her arms around him. “Sweetheart, when I brought it up earlier, it wasn’t to make you think all the members of your pack were gunning for you.”

“I know that.” He shook his head. “Maybe I am exhausted.”

“Don’t you think you’d be able to smell it?”

“We can’t smell people’s thoughts. Emotions sometimes. But I don’t know what you’re thinking based on scent alone.” He sometimes wished he could. That would certainly give him an edge in business meetings.