Page 26

CHAPTER 26

C hristophe

My Butterfly: I don’t like being ignored.

My heart lurches against my rib cage even though this is the fifth time I’ve read over Ashley’s words. It’s been hours since she sent her last text. I have yet to respond.

My thumb hovers above the keyboard of my phone, yet I can’t bring myself to reply. I stuff the phone beneath the mattress of my still-made bed. The same bed I haven’t slept in since I was brought back to the Nightwolf commune almost two months ago.

A knock at the front door startles me.

“You have a guest,” Mike says through the closed door.

My heart starts to race. Is it Ashley?

The urge to be near her but also to send her away overcomes me.

“I’ve brought dinner,” Ms. Elsie’s sweet voice hums through the door. A second later, the scent of her chicken and wild rice soup hits my nose.

My stomach growls, reminding me that it’s been hours since I ate. Once Chance left for the day, I did some cross referencing of names that Junior gave us. Then I felt restless and resorted to working out instead of trying to go for a run.

“Ms. Elsie.” I pull the door open.

“It’s me,” she chirps, holding up a small soup pot. “I managed to save some for you. I hope you’re hungry. You too, Mike,” she calls over her shoulder as she makes her way inside.

“Close that door behind you and you two start setting the table.” She doesn’t even bother to check behind her to make sure we’re following her orders.

Mike and I look to one another before smirking and then doing exactly as she says. Minutes later, the three of us sit around my small wooden table in the dining room, feeding ourselves bowls of wild rice and chicken soup with homemade butter biscuits.

“These are delicious,” Mike says, holding up a biscuit. “Belinda loves these. Mind if I take a couple more for her?”

It’s endearing the way he’s always thinking of his pregnant mate. As soon as that thought pops in my head, guilt plagues me. It’s my fault he’s being kept away from her all of these nights.

“Don’t worry,” Ms. Elsie replies. “I made some extra and took them over to your place before I stopped over here. You both have plenty.”

Mike smiles brightly before he squeezes Ms. Elsie’s arm. “You are the heartbeat of our pack,” he tells her with sincerity.

She waves him off. “Stop it.”

“It’s true,” I say, drawing both of their gazes to me. My eyes connect with Ms. Elsie’s. “Alpha Chael is the leader of this pack, and he does a damn fine job at it. But you’re the lifeline of the Nightwolf pack.”

And I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you sooner, I silently add.

Ms. Elsie quickly dips her head, but I swear I catch moisture in her eyes.

“You two are just trying to get more biscuits out of me. If you want more, all you have to do is ask,” she replies.

Mike opens his mouth, likely to protest, but Ms. Elsie rises to her feet, stopping him.

“I almost forgot.” She moves back to the freezer, opening it to retrieve the homemade vanilla bean ice cream she’d placed inside.

“Who wants apple pie a-la-mode?”

Mike instantly raises his hand, making me chuckle. He frowns over at me. “What? You don’t want dessert?”

With a smile, I shake my head. “Of course, I do. You’re like a kid in a candy store,” I add.

“Have you had Ms. Elsie’s apple pie a-la-mode?” He clucks his teeth, shaking his head as if I’m foolish for not being as giddy as he is.

A lightness overcomes me. It’s not the same lightness I experience when it’s just me and Ashley, but this feels almost … comfortable.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve cleaned up the last dish after our meal and am waving as Ms. Elsie heads back home. Mike chose to walk her home.

I wonder if he is supposed to be on guard, ensuring that I don’t try to run away or something, but he just told me he’d be back in a little while.

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve gone from two guards to one outside of my house, and most of the time it’s Mike. Part of me wants to figure out what that means, but then I remind myself not to think about it too hard.

It likely just means that the rest of the pack is busy working, living, and tending to their own affairs.

I start toward my bedroom, trying to decide what I’ll do to entertain myself until I fall asleep, but a knock at the door stops me.

What’s strange is the knock comes from the back door. Not the front.

Ashley?

My wolf perks up inside of my chest. I lift my head and sniff the air. My stomach plummets.

Not her.

However, I do recognize the scent. And there’s a second scent that causes tension to plunge through my veins. I have to be imagining things.

When the knock sounds again, I realize I’ve been standing in the same spot. I haven’t moved.

“Who is it?” I call out, although I know the answer.

She doesn’t answer.

Another knock.

I suppose I can’t pretend not to be here. For a split second, I think of waiting for Mike to return and telling her to go away.

Coward! the voice in my head shouts.

My wolf whimpers, wanting to see the woman on the other side of the door. Eventually, I give into my wolf and start for the back door.

My grip firm on the door handle, I pull it open and come face to face with Reese, our pack’s Alpha Queen.

And she’s not alone.

My eyes drop to the bundle resting against her chest. A beat later, a whimper catches my attention, snapping my gaze to Henry, her dog, at her side.

Without thinking, I take a large step back away from them. Reese, however, must take that as an invitation to come in.

She steps inside and then closes the door behind her.

“Christophe,” she says with a smile almost as wide as Ms. Elsie’s.

How can she smile at me like that? When I look into her eyes, a pit forms in my stomach, because I can tell it’s genuine.

“Alpha Queen,” I say with a nod.

Her smile drops. “You know I don’t like that formal title. Call me Reese.”

I shake my head. “Alpha Queen,” I repeat. Giving her the proper amount of respect is the least I can do.

Her frown morphs into a half-smile as her gaze moves from one side of the hall to the other.

“We can work on that,” she finally says.

“It’s late,” I tell her, even though it’s only around eight p.m.

“Yeah, this little guy likes to go for long walks at night.” Her hand moves to the baby’s back, cupping him as she looks down at him. “Of course, we don’t go alone.” She smirks and gestures to Henry, her trustful watchdog, who’s now seated on his hind legs.

I take another step back.

“His daddy’s a little busy tonight, so I thought it’d be a great time to drop by. I probably should ask if it’s okay.”

“I don’t think Alpha Chael would like you being here,” I agree with her.

She lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not talking about Chael. I meant you,” she says as if I should’ve already known that. “I hope it’s okay that I dropped by like this, but you’ve been home for a while now and I haven’t seen you.”

“I didn’t think you would want to see me,” I blurt out without thinking.

“Why’s that?” She looks genuinely confused.

Maybe because I almost killed you and the entire pack?

The question seems too obvious, so instead of saying it, I run my hand through my hair. That catches her attention as she seems to look me over.

“Your hair’s gotten longer.”

I nod. “It was longer,” I reply. “Ms. Elsie gave me a cut when I first returned. She keeps it trimmed for me.”

“She’s such a gem. May I?” She gestures behind me, asking permission to fully enter my home.

I glance over my shoulder and wince as the memory of what happened the last time Reese was inside of this house comes racing back to me.

“Do you want to?” I ask, turning back to her. “I mean, the last time …”

This time her smile isn’t as bright, but it is filled with understanding. “I’ll be fine,” she says with confidence as she moves past me.

I follow her until we come to the dining room.

“Ms. Elsie left some apple pie and ice cream,” I say. “Do you want some?” I have nothing else to offer her.

“I’m fine. I had some after dinner, and usually, after our walks I have a nibble of something at home to prepare for this little one’s nighttime feeding.”

She reaches down and places one of her fingers in the baby’s hand. He instantly curls his fingers around it.

Though most of his body is shielded by the cross-body wrap, holding him in place, I notice when his head starts lifting from her chest.

“Oh, someone’s getting restless,” she says.

My eyes widen when she begins undoing the wrap.

“What are you doing?” My question comes out somewhat shrill. My feet have me creating more distance between Reese and me.

“He likes to be held in my arms when he’s feeling a bit restless.”

Mouth agape, I watch as she completely removes Echo from the wrap and holds him in her arms.

I stare at the ball of energy in her arms, all while his coos turn into cries. My wolf starts to whimper in my chest. He doesn’t like to think a baby’s suffering or upset.

“He’s not hungry,” Reese says, sounding a little confused. “He just ate before we left for our walk. Your daddy fed you from the bottle of pumped breastmilk,” she tells him with a smile even though he’s crying.

“I don’t think he likes being around me,” I toss out. That’s likely the safest bet. He senses my weakness and doesn’t like being around it. “Maybe you should?—”

“That can’t be it,” she counters. Then she looks up at me as if she’s gotten the most wonderful idea.

I immediately take a step back, my back almost hitting the counter of my kitchen. I’ve gotten as far from her as I can.

“Would you like to hold him?”

I hold up my hands, shaking my head. “I don’t think?—”

“Here, Echo, want to meet your other uncle?”

My eyes widen, and before I can protest or tell her the many, many ways that’s a terrible idea, she’s placing him in my arms.

On instinct, I wrap my hands around his little body, so he doesn’t fall. As soon as he’s in my hands, Reese steps back. I hold his still-squirming body away from me.

While he continues to cry, my wolf whimpers in my chest, desperately wanting to comfort him. I can’t help it when I bring him into my chest, cradling him in the way Reese was not too long ago.

I turn my head downward and inhale deeply, smelling the top of his head.

Innocence.

The one word describes his little scent. Mixed in with the smell of breast milk, baby powder, and his parents’ scents, is pure innocence. Without thinking about it, I hold him more firmly.

Echo turns his head this way and that a couple of times before he finally settles with the left side of his face pressed against my chest.

“See?” Reese says, making me look up at her. She’s grinning. “He’s calm with you.”

I ignore the lump that forms in my throat as I gaze down at the baby. Sure enough, he’s stopped fussing, and while he’s not asleep, he’s settled for chewing and sucking on his tiny fist in his mouth.

“Ms. Elsie says that means he’s teething,” Reese tells me. “I told her that babies don’t start that until at least six months, I think. He’s only three months old.

“She kindly reminded me that human babies start teething around that time, but my baby boy isn’t fully human.” She giggles. “Are you?” she murmurs to her son, coming closer and pressing a hand to his back, but she doesn’t make an attempt to take him from me.

“He likes to be rocked,” she tells me, then stares.

“Oh.” I start swaying my body, the rhythm coming almost naturally.

Reese doesn’t say anything, but her smile grows.

I look down at Echo to find his eyes halfway closed. “He’s falling asleep.”

“He likes to fight sleep at night. Thank Mother Moon for Ms. Elsie at night. She often takes over duties, even when I told her she didn’t have to. But she just tells me how much she loves it.”

In my mind, Reese's explanation further solidifies what I told Ms. Elsie earlier tonight. That woman is truly a gift to this entire pack.

“I’m sorry,” I say, surprising myself.

Reese looks at me with confusion. “You’re not hurting him. He’s fine,” she says, gesturing to the baby.

“Not that,” I tell her before pushing out a heavy breath. “For what I did,” I finally say. “It was never supposed to … I didn’t ever mean for what happened to happen.”

I shake my head.

“That’s not an excuse for my role in Rufus’ sick plan, but still, I should’ve known better. And because I acted foolish and stupidly, I almost cost your life and the rest of the pack. ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough for what I cost you, but I am sorry. Truly.”

Reese doesn’t say anything for a long while as she looks down at the baby in my arms. She rubs his back for a moment.

“I was pregnant with him that day,” she finally says.

My body stops moving and my arms weaken, causing the baby to drop slightly in my arms. I catch myself enough to keep his little body from falling.

“What?”

Reese’s eyes meet mine. “That day you and Rufus kidnapped me. I’d been feeling off for a little bit but didn’t know it was the pregnancy symptoms I was experiencing.”

Oh Mother Moon, what did I do?

“You should take him.” I hand Echo back to her, almost hoisting him onto her chest.

I don’t deserve to hold the baby that I almost killed.

“Christophe?” Reese calls.

“I think you guys should go,” I say, starting for the back door. “The three of you.” I gesture toward Henry as well before opening the door.

I can’t look at Reese or Echo. The guilt starts to eat me alive, causing nausea to roll through my stomach.

“Oh, okay,” Reese says with reluctance in her voice. She moves slowly, passing me to head out of the open door.

I barely stop myself from telling her to not show up here anymore. But I know that would sound incredibly rude. Reese, like Ms. Elsie, is too kind for her own good. She would show up here to find out how I’m doing despite the fact that I almost killed her unborn child.

“Christophe,” she calls just outside of the door. “Look at me.”

It takes a couple of beats but eventually I force my eyes to meet hers.

“Thank you for your apology, but I didn’t need it,” she adds. “That day …” She trails off as she looks down at her son, back in his wrap. “You proved how sorry you were for your actions when you took that bullet that was meant for my mate.”

I barely keep myself from flinching as I recall the piercing pain of the silver bullet. Luckily, it only sliced through my shoulder and not a vital organ. My shoulder aches, reminding me of the permanent scar that resides there.

“You and the people you worked with put us in that awful position on that day,” she continues. “But it was also you who risked your life to save us. Don’t forget that when you're busy beating yourself up over a past mistake you can’t change.”

I look away from Reese, not responding.

She makes it sound like I’m some kind of hero.

I’m not.

And it does neither one of us any good to pretend like I am.

“Just don’t forget everything that happened that day,” she adds before turning and walking away.

I close the door behind her and rip off my T-shirt. As soon as I enter the bedroom, I toss the shirt onto the floor and get down onto the floor to bust out a few hundred push-ups before moving onto ten-minute sets of wall squats.

I need to exercise to push out Reese’s words. I won’t let her kindness and uncanny forgiveness make me believe I’m any better than who and what I truly am.