I don’t think about my father much. He was an asshole. He started me sparring at five and let the males a few years older whale on me. He got off on watching me come back and take them down. He thought he taught me how to recover, and in a way, he did. He put me on the ground plenty before he put me in the ring.
He was always clear that I was to succeed him as alpha. His seed was the strongest. I was his trophy. His belt.
You don’t explain shit to a belt. So, yeah, maybe he wouldn’t have told me.
“How do you know all this? You were there?” The crone avoids the commons like the plague, and everyone is cool with that.
She comes back to the table, setting mismatched tea cups in front of us both. I give her a nod of thanks.
“I see all.” She rounds her eyes, and then she snorts. “Your mother brought you and Una up here afterwards. You were almost dead. You both were.”
I’m surprised my father let her. He was big on rubbing dirt in it.
“Fane didn’t get the chance to leave a mark on you, but your wolf tore you up.”
“He’s a monster.”
The crone uses her spoon to strain the tea bag and then sets it on the saucer. I follow suit and put my thumb through the wet sack. Now there’s flakes in my cup.
“There wasn’t much I could do but treat the pain. There were a few days—” Her eyes grow distant. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”
“But I recovered.” I always do.
“You did. But you weren’t the same.”
“First blood changes a male.” It is known.
She shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about. You weren’t the same as other wolves anymore. It was as if to let him out, you had to consume him. Become one with him.”
“The wolf and man are one.” It’s such a common saying, it’s out of my mouth before I think.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t bring that bullshit into my house. That’s just how backwards folk justify behaving like animals to each other.”
“Don’t tell the elders that. They’ll burn you at the stake.”
She snorts. “Not a single one of those mouth breathers could catch me when they were in their prime.”
“No doubt.” I’ve seen her wolf. She’s sleek and silver, and she’s got uncommonly sharp fangs.
“What I’m trying to say is that I thought it’d undo. Repair in good time. I thought the Fates would prevail. But I was wrong. You aren’t like other males.”
“Yeah. I’m a flip-shifter.”
“I’m not talking about that. You’re—” Her face scrunches like she’s searching for the right words. “You’re getting in your own way.”
“Yeah? Maybe so, but I’ve done all right so far.” I abandon the tea and lean back.
“Have you?” The crone sinks back in her chair, mimicking my posture. “Is everything right?”
What kind of philosophical bullshit is that?
“Listen, I came with a question. Are you gonna answer it? Is Una Hayes my mate?”
“You honestly can’t tell.” Her brow creases. There’s pity in her gray eyes. “Yes. She was.”
Every muscle tightens, and I push back, the chair screeching on the hard wood. “What do you mean—was?”
“Sounds like she told you. I pulled the mate bond out of her.”
I bound to my feet. “You what?”
My wolf is choking my voice. The words come out a garbled growl.
The crone doesn’t move. My rage fills the room, clogs my own nose, but she’s unaffected. She takes a slow sip of her tea.
“You knew this. She told you she was your mate. You rejected her. She told you I fixed it. You must have found her nest in the woods. I can scent traces of her heat on you. You know all of this. But you’re deaf to it. Because you are getting in your own way.”
My clenched fists shake. Fur has sprouted up my spine, and my bones are stretching, my muscles swelling.
“Your wolf recognizes his mate,” she says.
“I am my wolf.”
The crone tuts. “Don’t start lying to yourself now, Alpha. Your wolf and you are like that mutt Eamon lets his mate keep in the backyard. You coexist.”
“Why didn’t I feel the bond when she shifted?”
“Do you let yourself feel anything?”
I do. Every nerve in my body is screaming. I have to wade through the thoughts whirling in my brain.
“You pulled the mate bond out of her?” I spit the question through elongated fangs.