by A. D. Ryan
I stared up at the dark ceiling in our bedroom, trying to force my body into exhaustion. Truthfully, I had been having trouble sleeping the last few days. It could have been residual worry for Jackson still out there by himself, but it could have also been some form of PTSD that I was experiencing since being rescued. It started with being overly jumpy at even the slightest noise—something I still struggled with—and the nightmares that would wake me up and leave me confused about where I was, but soon it escalated to being unable to sleep at all.
Naturally, Nick worried, and I hated to put him through it, so I just started faking it—sleep that is. I’d sidle up to him and rest my head on his chest while keeping my breaths deep and even. When he drifted off, I’d roll back over and listen to the sounds from the rest of the house and outside, staying vigilant, almost like I was waiting for one of my captors to come bursting in and take me back to one of the observation rooms. Hearing doors open and close down the hall and footsteps walking toward and away from my bedroom door only made the panic attacks worse.
Marcus was still waiting to hear from his Shaman contacts, so there would be little-to-no warning if our perimeter was breached. Knowing this definitely added to my sleepless nights.
I tried telling myself over and over again that I was safe. That I had my family to protect me should anything happen, but the darkness obliterated my mantra time and time again. Woodland animals moving outside on the grounds below caused me to jump, my heart rate and temperature both rising as I prepared to fight. It was Nick’s soft snoring that oddly set me at ease. What once annoyed the hell out of me was now my source of comfort at a difficult time.
Beside me, the bed dipped as Nick rolled away from me, facing the large window. Feeling particularly more restless than nights past, I decided to maybe see if a cup of warm milk or tea might help calm my nerves. Holding my breath, I carefully got out of bed and tiptoed to the door. I opened it carefully, stopping before the hinges squeaked, and slipped out into the hall.
Being nearly two in the morning, everyone was already sleeping or out guarding the perimeter. In the kitchen, I turned on the light above the stove and opened the fridge for the milk. I would try that first, and if that failed, then tea would be next.
As I waited for the milk to heat in the pot, my stomach growled, so I rifled through the fridge again for something to eat. Even though I knew my body was hungry, nothing particularly appealed to me…until I found the jar of pickles. I reached in and grabbed the jar, setting it on the counter and selecting a fork from the drawer next to the stove. I speared the fattest pickle in the jar and started eating it while I stirred my milk.
“Ugh, dill pickles at this hour?” a soft female voice said, making me jump in alarm and drop my snack.
The pickle hit the floor with a splat, the juice splashing against my toes, as I whipped around to find Colby sitting up on the couch in the small sitting room off the kitchen.
“Jesus,” I hissed, placing a hand over my racing heart. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Colby.” Once I was sure I wasn’t about to pass out, I crouched down and picked up the pickle, pouting that it was wasted now… I eyed it carefully, inspecting it a little closer. Was it a waste?
I shook my head, telling myself I wasn’t that desperate to fulfill this odd craving, and tossed the pickle in the trash before fishing out another one.
“I can’t believe you’re eating something that garlic-infused this late. Poor Nick,” she teased, wrinkling her nose as she pulled a stool out from under the island and sat on it. The bags under her eyes had gotten worse from her lack of sleep, and I turned to her, concerned.
“You feeling okay? Still not sleeping?”
Colby shrugged and shook her head simultaneously, resting her chin in her hands and letting her eyes close. “No… I mean, yeah, I guess I feel okay. I’m sure I’d sleep better if Cordy would settle down.”
I wanted to act surprised that Cordelia was having trouble, but if I was struggling with acclimating back into the Pack after just a couple weeks, then what had the last seven years done to that poor child? I decided to go and check on her after I cleaned up in the kitchen.
“Did you want some warm milk or tea?” I offered, finishing my pickle.
“I’ll try the milk, if it’s not too much trouble.”
I smiled. “Not at all.” I added a little more milk to the pot on the stove and then put the pickles away. When I went in search of a couple mugs, I came across the peanut butter that someone had left out earlier and decided I wanted a spoonful.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Colby asked as I shoved the spoon in my mouth and licked the peanut butter off. “Not even a palate cleanser in between the garlicky pickles and the peanut butter?” She shuddered. “That’s disgusting.”
Not seeing the big deal because my stomach didn’t seem too upset by the combination, I shrugged. I added a little cinnamon to the milk, and once it was finished, I separated it into two mugs and handed her one.
“How are you doing?” Colby asked, blowing on her milk.
“I’m great,” I replied, taking a sip and holding her gaze.
Her eyes narrowed skeptically. She saw through my bullshit. “Yeah, so this late-night kitchen run and the bags under your eyes mean nothing?”
I considered keeping up the lie, but then decided I needed to be honest with at least one person. Nick would only worry and stay up with me, and one of us needed sleep if we were to stay vigilant when Jackson called on us.
“I’ve been better,” I confessed. “Nights are the worst, so I can empathize with what your little sister is going through.”
Colby bit down on her lower lip, looking conflicted.
“What is it?” I pressed. “Colby, you can tell me.”
After taking a deep, cleansing breath, Colby set her mug down, but her hands encased the warm ceramic. “It’s probably stupid,” she began. “I’m aware that years have gone by, and she’s grown so much, but…she’s different.”
I smiled warmly, reaching across the island and resting a hand on Colby’s forearm. “She went from being a child to a teenager,” I reminded her. “Of course she’s changed.”
“Like I said, it sounds stupid. But I was a teenager once, too, and she’s not…” She paused again, not sure she should continue. “Normal.”
Rounding the island, I sat next to Colby. “I know it’s an adjustment,” I empathized. “But, having been where she’s been for just a fraction of the time she spent there, I can tell you that she’s going to need a little more time. She felt abandoned—like you all gave up searching for her after she went missing.”
“But we didn’t—”
“I know that, but that’s how she feels. She’s got some abandonment issues she’ll need to work through, and couple that with being held captive and experimented on… Honey, this is her normal.”
Colby still wasn’t convinced. “She stares at me,” she whispered, sounding creeped out. “While I’m sleeping. I’ve woken up several times to her standing next to my bed, staring down at me with dark eyes.”
I shivered, imagining it.
“When I ask her what she’s doing, she just smiles this huge Cheshire cat grin and skips back over to her bed before engaging me in conversations that I’m too exhausted to even think about.”
“Like?” I inquired, curiosity piqued.
Colby rubbed her eyes and then raked her fingers through her hair. “Everything. Our lineage—which I hate to admit I don’t know too much about because I start to nod off every time Dad tries to teach us—the feud with Gianna… It’s all so random, really.”
I mulled over Colby’s concerns for a minute before coming to the only possible conclusion.
“She’s missed so much of her life here, Colby. She’s probably just trying to fill in the gaps and learn more about where she comes from. And maybe she’s asking about Gianna because she has a strange fascination with her captors. It’s not like they were open books the entire time I
was there. She probably wants to understand why they would do the things they did.”
Colby finished her milk and then took her mug to the sink. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I think I’m going to talk to Mom and Dad about cleaning out Karl’s room or one of the ones in the basement for me to move into.”
A knowing smirk formed on my lips. “The basement? That couldn’t have anything to do with wanting a room a little further from your parents because you and Zach have been given permission to be together, could it?”
Colby’s face turned pink instantly, and she struggled to form words.
“Relax,” I said. “I’m not going to rat you out. But, I should warn you that your dad’s a tough man to fool. If I figured it out, he will too.”
Standing up, I took my empty mug to the sink and turned to her, suddenly feeling exhausted. I welcomed the lethargic feeling as I wrapped Colby in my arms. “Try to get some sleep. You can talk to your dad about the sleeping arrangements tomorrow, okay? But you need to rest. Jax could call us into action any day.”
Colby nodded. “You, too.” She squeezed me a little tighter. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me, too, sweetie.”
After making sure the doors and windows on the main level were all locked and Colby was tucked in on the couch, I headed back upstairs. When I reached the second floor, I heard voices from down the hall near Jackson’s room and stopped.
Curious, I padded down toward the sound slowly, and the closer I got, I came to realize it was actually coming from Colby’s room.
Cordelia was still awake.
The door was ajar as I crept forward, trying to be as quiet as possible in hopes of maybe observing some of the behavior that Colby had reported downstairs. From my position just outside, I could see Cordelia kneeling on the bed her parents had recently acquired for her. She was facing the window—which was open—and she was whispering so low I couldn’t make out what she was saying at first.
I inched a little closer, careful not to open the door any more, and honed my hearing.
“Any day,” she mumbled, rocking back and forth minutely. “It won’t be long. They’ll see I’m one of them. They’ll trust me and tell me things. Any day… Any day…”
Her muttered ramblings needled at me. She was clearly confused—traumatized, even—and she was worried that her family didn’t trust her enough to let her be involved. Maybe she could see Vince and Zach out there patrolling the grounds and felt left out. As someone Marcus had trusted enough to name his successor, I felt it my responsibility to let him know when I spoke with him in the morning about his offer.
I was just turning around to head back to my room when the door flew open, and an irate Cordelia stood in the doorway. Her speed surprised me.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her eyebrows furrowed, amber irises glowing in the center before darkening to almost black around the edges. I’d never seen her eyes do this before—any of our eyes—and figured it had to be a trick of the light.
Or the lack there of…
Hallucination or not, though, I couldn’t keep the shiver that shot through me hidden as her eyes burned through my soul. For the first time since I met her, she unnerved me.
Cordelia clenched her eyes and shook her head before looking up at me again, this time confused. Her eyes had returned to their hazel hue, her expression softer. “Brooke?”
I forced a smile, alarmed by what I’d just witnessed. “Hey, honey,” I acknowledged, trying to keep my own bewilderment under wraps. “How are you doing? Colby says you’re having trouble sleeping, so I came to check on you.” I reached out and ran a hand over her dark hair. “You good?”
Flying forward, Cordelia wrapped her arms around my waist. “I’m great, and it’s all because of you. You brought me home.”
I folded my arms around her, my body having trouble softening into the embrace when it sensed something was off. “That’s good to hear,” I whispered. “Well, I wanted to come and check on you because I was up, and I heard your voice. Nick’s probably wondering where I am, so I should get back to bed, but I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”
Cordelia nodded excitedly. “Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” With a wave, I turned and walked back down the hall toward my room, feeling her eyes on me the entire time.
I thought Colby had been exaggerating—some kind of sibling rivalry or jealousy having emerged between them—but she was bang on; something was definitely off about all of this. Whatever Cordelia was experiencing went beyond PTSD. She’d just displayed behaviors that I hadn’t ever seen before in her. She was angry, almost murderous, when she stared me down. Clearly what she’d been through had affected her on a much deeper level than I’d ever thought. Her father definitely needed to know as soon as possible.
“It was unnerving,” I said as Nick brushed his teeth. I put my own toothbrush back in the holder and leaned against the counter as Nick flossed.
Nick didn’t seem as wigged out by my encounter with Cordelia last night; I think he was more concerned about why I was wide awake at that hour without telling him I was having trouble sleeping.
Nick tossed the string of floss and looked at me. “Stress and anxiety can manifest in so many ways, honey.” His eyebrows knit together sympathetically. “Remember your night terrors shortly after David died?” A violent tremor rolled through my body, and Nick raised a hand to my jaw, locking eyes with me. “You weren’t coherent. You had no idea what you were doing or where you were. Perhaps Cordy is going through the same thing.”
I thought back to that first hotel we stayed at when we made the trip from Arizona. It wasn’t one of my finest moments; I was so worked up from the nightmares and the recent memory of David’s death that I’d almost lost control and shifted in the room. I could have hurt someone.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “That’s probably all it was. I must have been reading too much into it because of how worried Colby was. She must have projected her feelings onto me, and in my overtired state of mind, I let it overwhelm me.”
Leaning forward, Nick kissed me lightly. “Talk to Marcus about your concerns. I’m sure he’ll be able to help Cordelia through her adjustment period.”
“Yeah. I planned on it. He wanted to get together later today to see if I’d come to a decision about his proposal.”
Nick straightened up, suddenly serious. “And? What have you decided?”
With a sigh, I turned and walked back to the bedroom with Nick one step behind me. “It’s a lot to take on, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it on my own,” I confessed. “Both you and Marcus seem to think I’m perfect for the position, but I’m still so green. I could get us all killed.” Nick looked ready to object, but I held up a hand. “I want to give Marcus peace of mind so he can focus on this mission without the distraction of wondering about the future of his pack, so I’m going to accept. I’ll start learning everything I can about what being an Alpha means, but I need you to help me. I need you to be more than just my protector. You know more about this life than I do, and until I’ve gotten the hang of it, I need you to be honest with me if something feels wrong. I want you to back me up and lead by my side. I’m proposing a partnership, and I’m hoping to have Marcus sign off on that.”
Nick’s smile returned, and he nodded. “I’m sure we’ll have years—maybe even decades—before you’ll be Alpha, but I’m sure it’ll keep Marcus focused throughout all this. Regardless of when you become Pack Alpha, I will be here for you in whatever way you need me to be.”
Instead of shaking on it, I stepped up onto my toes and pressed my lips to Nick’s. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he told me, running his hands up and down my arms. “I’d do anything for you. Now, come on. Let’s get dressed and head downstairs.”
By the time we made it downstairs, breakfast was almost ready. Marcus was at the table with Corbin and Zach while Cordelia helped her mother and sister with the cooking, a
nd Vince and Layla were sitting in the living room area just off the kitchen. They were cuddled close together on the oversized armchair, smiling as they both rubbed her expanding belly. Watching them bond over their unborn child made me feel something I hadn’t been expecting; it was almost as though I might one day long for a family.
One day, way, way into the future.
Ever since Bobby died, and especially since joining the Scottsdale PD, having kids wasn’t something I could see for myself. I couldn’t justify bringing a child into a world where there was so much horror and grief to be had. This was actually the reason David and I fought the night he died. He eventually wanted a family, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready.
But now? Ever since becoming a wolf, I found myself thinking about it a few times—more so whenever I caught a glimpse of Vince and Layla mooning over their unborn bundle of joy. Was it that I had changed my mind, or was it the wolf’s inherent nature to reproduce to carry on the line? Sometimes it felt like a bit of both.
“Brooke,” Marcus greeted as Nick and I reached the table. “The two of you sleep well?”
Nick looked to me for a response, and I knew I shouldn’t continue to lie. “As well as can be expected given everything that’s happened. But I’m hopeful it’s going to get better with time.” I paused, looking to Nick, then the guys at the table, before casting my glance back to Marcus. “I was hoping to talk to you this morning,” I told him.
His eyes lit up expectantly. It wasn’t a surprise he could read me well enough to assume I had accepted his offer. “Oh? I think we’ve got a few minutes.” He glanced past me, and I turned to find Miranda looking in our direction. She offered him a single nod, and then I looked back at Marcus. “We could head to the library for a bit?”