"I would know it in any world, any life, any form, anywhere in time and space. I would die for these lavender eyes to glitter with warmth - anytime, anywhere."
His words constrict around my heart like golden barbs. The beauty of them excruciating.
...
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"For the umpteenth time, I'm sorry, Ashton, but you need to understand. Besides, the pack really is safe. There are over a hundred warrior-wolves and an equal number of guards. Vance is there, Elliot is there.", Esmerauld sounds every level of exasperated and apologetic as he tries to ease my worries, but it does nothing to calm down the beast within me who is almost perpetually strung tight all the damn time these days.
"You are here, I am here, the former Beta is here, his mate is here. Do I still need to explain to you what exactly I am worried about?", I growl out the words, trying and failing to keep my calm, and immediately down the rest of the vintage whiskey that I found in my father's stash and have been twirling in a glass for the past fifteen minutes or so.
The witches will see this as the perfect opportunity to lunge at, to try and tear our pack apart, again. Not to mention we have a very bloody important prisoner in the dungeons.
"Besides", I speak again, cutting off whatever my Beta was about to say, as I begin pouring myself another glass, "The number of warriors and guards you mentioned, are nothing. Absolutely nothing. We might think it's a lot, since we're re-building from scratch, but the world won't make special concessions with regards to that. The last pack in New Zealand that I had been doing a little studying on has atleast a few hundred warriors and even more guards all over their continent, and those are just the rough figures. For any pack to actually thrive, we need our members - capable members - stationed not only within our own core boundaries, but all over the country, continent and whole bloody world."
I turn around to meet Esmerauld's narrowed eyes with my own impassive ones. "Do you realise just how much of a far-fetched dream that is for us? We barely have enough force to protect our own half of Westborne, and yet we have a population at around five thousand, and still counting. You see the ratio?"
I am breathing hard by the time I finish talking, despite how much I'm trying to keep my voice low and calm. I am succeeding too, but my agitated breathing and the way I down the freshly poured glass as well, give me away.
Fuck. I need to calm down. The last thing I can do right now is get drunk and lose control.
I put the glass down on the table, careful not to make a single sound, in fear that it will shatter the fake calm I am trying to draw upon myself; and run a hand through my hair.
Esmerauld sighs. "You're trying too hard, Ashton." His words are quiet and sincere, and I know just how true they are. But what other option do I have?
"So is she.", my voice is barely audible, as the words slip past my lips.
"I know, and I'm sorry if I made it more difficult for her by bringing mom and dad here, but they really, really needed to see her. If only to believe that she's still... alive.", he breathes out the last word after a tired pause.
