Page 199 of Claimed By the Rival Alpha

NIGHT

Shortly after Kai’s story, everyone wanted to sleep. None of us was sure what would happen tomorrow, but it was probably wise to get as much rest as we could.

I doubted I’d be able to turn in as easily.

Kai’s story was still on my mind. There were plenty of differences between our situation and the fictional one, but it hit home for me.

I was at war with my brother, who was desperate enough to kill and steal to get what he wanted.

And neither of us was as upstanding or honorable as the alphas of the ToGethEr Pack.

Bryn and I decided to let the trackers take the bunk beds and the pull-out in the living room.

Everyone else took spots on the floor. But Bryn was restless.

She doted on our people, so when it was clear that everyone was comfortable and there was nothing more to be done, she became more withdrawn.

I wanted to hold her, but I wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted.

Vince’s death had hit her hard, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting some space.

But when she started to go upstairs, I followed her just to make sure.

On the second level, we heard the snoring and soft breathing of the wolves who were getting the rest they deserved.

Bryn pulled down the cord that led to the attic and started to climb up.

She didn’t pull the ladder up—something that would have been a clear “leave me alone”—so I went up after her.

The attic’s shape was triangular, like the roof.

It was maybe ten square meters large, and the only furniture inside was a black leather recliner pushed to the far end of the room next to the window.

Snow was still falling outside. Bryn stood in front of the window, holding herself tightly as she watched the snow.

The lights were off, which allowed a pale sheath of light to pour into the dark attic. The light cast a glow on her shoulders and reflected off the white blanket covering her. It made her look delicate, ethereal…lonely.

I quietly pulled up the ladder and shut the attic door. With that done, I joined her by the window, bending as I went because the ceiling was very low.

“How are you doing?” I asked, then winced. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

“It’s not stupid.” Her breath fogged on the window. “I feel so terrible, Night. I feel like I failed the pack.”

“If you’ve failed, then so have I.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind. She leaned back against me. My hands just barely reached around her belly.

“Then we’ve both let our pack down. We’ll need to do better. Be better.” She touched my arms. “I was worried about you.”

“And I was scared to death about you. When I saw you and Vince run away, I thought for sure that would be the last time I saw you.” The moment replayed in my mind.

The last I’d seen of Bryn was her brown tail as it dashed between the trees.

My heart had sunk like a stone inside me.

“All those hours it took to search for you, I must have stopped breathing. It wasn’t until you came down the ladder that I could take a breath again. ”

She let out a long, trembling sigh. “I love you so much. It feels selfish that I can feel relieved that you’re here with me when our people are in danger. All I can do is stand here and watch the snow fall.”

“We should be grateful for the snow. After all, it’s covering our tracks.”

“I know.” She sniffled. “That’s the irony of all this. We can be safe and sound inside this cabin while Vince and the others are being buried under the snow. It’s so fucking unfair.”

“Oh, Bryn.” I didn’t know what to say to her, or how to comfort her. Life wasn’t fair, and bad things happened to good people for no apparent reason. But that wasn’t what any of us needed to hear right now.

What really tore me up was that she felt so guilty about Vince’s death even though she was the least at fault.

It had taken much longer for us to handle the ferals who’d cornered us.

Because of that, the snow had covered his and Bryn’s scent.

It had taken forever to find him, the scent of his blood leading us to him.

If we had been able to handle the ferals in time, Vince would have survived.

Instead, he’d bled out in the cold. Alone.

He’d fought so hard for so long, and he’d gotten the ferals to abandon Bryn’s trail.

Losses were inevitable, and I’d lost so many wolves in my efforts to take control of the Kings Pack.

But when we were so close to peace, this new loss hit different.

And it reminded me of all the other lives lost on the way to this point.

I still thought about Iggy, and about Eric, even though his betrayal had started all of this.

There had been so much grief, but not a lot of time to mourn.

Even now, we would have to start moving again by first light because staying in one place was dangerous.

And Bryn was right—this cabin was cozy and warm.

My men deserved any rest they could get, but I couldn't feel the same way about myself.

I understood why she was taking everything so hard.

“You said that Vince told you where to go to find me.” Her voice was quiet, just slightly louder than a whisper. “What did he say?”

He’d been covered in blood when I found him. The snow around him and his gray fur had been soaked with it. I hesitated to go back to those moments. But for Bryn, I could remember those words and Vince’s weak voice fading from my mind.

“He told me that he’d done what he could,” I murmured.

“That you had gone northeast, and he was sorry he couldn’t tell me specifics.

I told him that he’d done more than enough, that he’d made all of us proud.

The final words I heard from him were, ‘Go and find Bryn, and see this through. If we get Troy, then all of this would be worth it.’”

A lump formed in my throat. I tried to swallow it, but it stayed there, thickening my voice and making my eyes prick with tears.

“I hate myself for this now, Bryn. I don’t even want to tell you, but I was so desperate to find you, I couldn’t spend long with him.

I left him in the snow, alone, when he was taking his final breaths.

I’m sorry I didn’t stay by his side.” I’d chosen my mate and my child.

For all I knew, the ferals might have had Bryn cornered.

It was the only choice I could have made, but it meant leaving a treasured wolf behind.

She turned in my arms and clung to me, still weeping but more quietly this time. I allowed my own tears to fall. It was impossible to keep them at bay.

Eventually, we went to the recliner. I took up most of the space, but Bryn lay on top of me.

The chair wasn’t made for two, but when I pulled the handle that made it recline, it felt much less cramped.

Bryn removed the blanket from her body and covered us with it.

Her warm, naked skin pressed to mine was so soothing, I could have cried again.

The version of me from a year ago, the one who had been on the warpath for my birthright, wouldn’t ever have stopped to shed a tear.

He would have lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and kept going even when the grief ate him up inside.

But Bryn had taught me that it was okay to grieve and worry and cry.

Her compassion and the strength of her conviction had proven to me that being strong all the time was a weakness.

In this silence, I understood that how I used to think made me a hell of a lot closer to being like my father than how I thought now.

I was glad I’d moved past it, even if it meant giving myself time to feel these deep emotional wounds.

“I won’t let Troy win,” Bryn vowed.

“Neither will I.”

She flinched. “Sorry. I thought you were asleep.”

I looked down at her and brushed the hair from her forehead. “I thought the same about you.”

The corners of her mouth lifted. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it wasn’t that anguished frown, either. So that was an improvement.

She took my hand and knitted our fingers together, putting our twined hands on her stomach. We listened to the sounds of quiet snoring, of someone walking on the cabin’s main floor.

This cabin did not feel like home. Not at all.

We jumped when the baby kicked at our intertwined hands, and when we looked at each other again, our smiles were genuine.

“You know…” I murmured. “All of this will feel worth it when I set eyes on our pup for the first time.”

“I think I have to agree with you.” She squeezed my hand. “All of this is for them. For our pack. If we can get past this, we can get past just about anything.”

“Yes.” I lowered my head, intending to kiss her forehead, but she looked up at that moment and our lips met. We hesitated and looked into each other’s eyes, searching each other’s gazes for permission. When we found it, we kissed again, deeper this time.

Her tongue brushed mine as she shifted position to straddle me. I rubbed her thighs, one of my hands heading upward until my fingers reached the wet heat of her pussy. Moaning, she reached down to stop my hand.

“I want you,” she whispered against my lips. “Please.”

“Yes.” I kissed her again, then again because she tasted so sweet. “But we have to be quiet.”

Her answering grin was outright wicked. “I’ll try.”

I hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, so all I needed to do was slide the gym shorts I wore down my legs.

She steadied herself with her hands flat against my chest as she eased down on me, and I bit my lip.

Being inside her was a bliss that took me aback each time I experienced it. We just fit so perfectly together.