I lied.
It was a mistake.
Now my mate hates me.
Can I blame him?
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Slumped on the edge of my bed, I cradle my head as I fight the dark thoughts bashing inside my skull. My right knee won't stop jiggling and my heart won't stop racing as years of memories, bitterness, and pain swirl, reminding me of every mistake and failure I've ever made.
My mother is dead.
My father is gone.
And my mate is in the infirmary, permanently scarred for the rest of her life because of me.
For what feels like the hundredth time, I look at my watch, cringing at the time-time that has somehow slowed down while simultaneously speeding forward. I feel like I can barely breathe. The Luna Ceremony is in three hours, and I need time to stop completely. I need time to think. About what exactly? Everything.
Decisions need to be made and as Alpha, I need to make them. Most of the Crescent Moon Pack is here to watch their Alpha's daughter become my Luna. And I still have the whole Eve debacle to get to. She's been locked up in the dungeon since the day she whipped Willow, and I haven't found it in me to confront her yet. I'll wind up killing her before even letting her get a word out. So, I've kept Emeric in charge of her watch until after the Luna Ceremony. I can't put off her punishment forever, but I can't seem to get in the right headspace to think clearly.
Willow could have been killed!
As the image of Willow's bloodied, wounded back surfaces, a new round of anger, piercing and hot, surges like a punch and I want to hit something. No. I want to kill Eve.
Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that now is not the time. There are so many things that need to be done, and I need to do them...but I can't seem to get myself up to do so.
My mind can only focus on Willow.
Failure.
My pack depends on my ability to decide; it's ingrained in every Alpha to be decisive. It's what's safest for the pack.
Willow is what's safest for this pack. She's the destined Luna, the unwelcome thought slips in.
My claws extend, breaking through the flesh on my head as I roar into my hands. With a shake of my head, I push Willow out of my thoughts and stand from the bed.
Things need to get done. I can't keep sitting here. There's a ceremony in just a few hours. I should be helping my pack prepare for it and checking in on Lyra and her father.
That's what I need to be doing.
Stomping toward my bedroom door, my hand freezes on the doorknob as I get a whiff of Willow's sweet scent. A shiver rolls through my body. I'm still in the scrubs I changed into days ago and her scent of amber, caramel, and smoke has woven into every thread. With another deep inhale, I look over my shoulder at my bed where a freshly pressed suit lays, waiting for me to put it on for the ceremony. But I can't seem to do it, knowing it would require me to give up Willow's scent for good. Since knowing she was my mate, I've always wanted-no, needed-Willow's scent with me. It's what calms me; it's what calms my wolf.
