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RYKER
I put my hand on her shoulder and pushed her slightly away from me. "Alana, no," I warned her.
"Why not?" She placed her hand on the back of my neck, her thumb was caressing my skin up and down. "Everyone's wearing a mask, no one will know. Plus I'm pretty sure people are going to start making out like last year anytime soon." She laughed, shaking her head. "Come on, just one kiss."
My hand reached for her hand and took it off of me before letting it go. "I said no."
Alana narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you in love with her already?"
I let the words sink into my brain for a few moments before I answered her question truthfully, "No."
It was true, I was not in love with Xyrra. At least, not yet. However, I could not deny the palpable attraction between us. It was as if there was a magnetic force that kept drawing me towards her, I tried to resist the best I could but sometimes it was simply impossible. Like a few days ago, when I had confided myself in her and truly bared my soul — 'Bare my arse,' growled Khrysaor, my wolf, interrupting me. He was right. I hadn't told her about Walker.
In my defense, it was truly hard to talk about my brother. Mainly because I still had a tremendous amount of guilt churning inside my heart, haunting me worse than a ghost. I briefly closed my eyes before realizing where I was and who continued to yap my ear off in front of me right now.
"— don't think I am that dumb, Ryker. I know you have some feelings for her. Why else would you have Dmitry kicked me out of the packhouse just a few days before you brought her here, hmm? I bet you're giving my room to her. Did you have sex with her? Is that it? I bet you have because she's such a whor—" The next thing coming out of her mouth was a hiss of pain. After all, I twisted her arm and brought her close to me.
My voice was barely a whisper as I did not wish to cause a scene but I made sure that she heard me. I made my voice ring in her head so she couldn't pretend she didn't hear it. "I fucking mean it, Alana, one more ill word about her from your mouth, and I will rip those lips off your face and let you live your life minus the one thing you love the most: your beauty."
"Ryker," she sobbed, her eyes pleaded but I didn't let go. I wanted her to remember it. I wanted her to swear that she would never say anything negative about Xyrra. About my mate. "I promise," she said at last and I narrowed my eyes, still not letting her wrist go. "I promise I wouldn't say any ill words about her. I swear it."
This time, I dropped her hand and took a step back. I crossed my arms in front of my chest as I looked at my surrounding. Everyone seemed to be too busy partying that they hadn't noticed us, after all, this was one of the days I let everyone let loose and actually had fun so no one would wish to miss the chance. Even Dmitry was here somewhere, either dancing or drinking. The last time I had seen him was over an hour ago, he had a bottle of Russian vodka with him.
"You've never done it before," said Alana, her voice was low and barely above whispering level but I had caught it.
I glanced and saw her rubbing her wrist. It made me wonder if perhaps I had been too harsh on her. When Walker died, I'd lost my brother and Alana had lost her mate. Somehow we had found solace in each other but even long before that, she'd always been my best friend since we had been in nappies. We had grown up together.
One look at her and my heart was tightened by guilt. Even though Alana and I had agreed once upon a time that if somehow, by a miracle, I found my mate, we would end our relationship, still, it must have been hard for her. And right now, I had my mate, Xyrra, with me, while she didn't have hers.
I let out an exasperated sigh and responded to her, "Done what?"
Alana looked up, her eyes met mine, and she gave me a sad, rueful smile. "Bad words."
I frowned, unsure what she was referring to.
"You said 'fucking'," she explained. "You've never said that to me before. Even when you were angry, you never cursed at me." A tear escaped one corner of her eyes and she brushed it with the back of her hand, smearing some of the red paint she had put on her cheek as fake blood. "She changed you, Pitt." She used the nickname that she had given me. Back when we had decided to give our relationship a try, she once had asked me to call her 'Jolie' — instead of Angelina because in French, 'Jolie' means 'pretty', and she would call me 'Pitt' — since I'd refused to be called 'Brad', although I had told her I would prefer my own name.
I shook my head. "She's my mate, Alana."
Hurt flashed in her eyes when she noticed that I hadn't called her 'Jolie'. I wanted to reach for her and hug her in my arms, telling her that everything would be okay like I'd had when her mother had died when she was only ten years old, or when her goldfish had died when she was sixteen, but I couldn't. Something inside me no longer had that old urge to do that. Then I moved and began to walk away. I paused for a brief moment as I stood right next to her. Our shoulders were only inches away from each other. "Don't ever call me by that nickname again," I said to her while looking straight ahead. And then I left before I could hear her agonizing sob.
Feeling like I needed a fresh breath of air, I walked out of the house through the back door. The second I was outside, I breathed the chill night air into my lungs.
"Well, that is a first," I heard someone say in a thick Russian accent, and without having to look, I could tell that it was Dmitry. Only he had that noticeable accent around here.
"A first, what?" I asked, looking up at the night sky and wondering what it would feel like to be anywhere else in the world but here. How life would have been if I was not bound to this place? Once I'd had that privilege. Walker had been the next in line for the Alphadom, and I was merely the second son, the backup. My brother may have gone to Eton but he'd had to take online classes to get his degree while I, who had been here up until high school, could finally live freely and choose whichever university that I had wanted. And of course, I'd chosen the one that is very far from home. I'd lived precariously, wildly, because for once, I could do whatever the hell I wanted. Then even that hadn't lasted long and once again, I was bounded here. Even worse, for once, I had to be responsible for the whole pack and not just myself. Gosh, I missed Walker.
'You and me,' said Khrysaor. 'I miss Paxton too.'
Paxton had been my brother's wolf. Khrysaor and Paxton used to practice together and sometimes in the rare moments where my brother actually had free time, we would let our wolves out and do a pack run.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and tilted my head down to see Dmitry standing beside me. "First time you left a party. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm always okay." I gave him my usual easy smile, hoping it would ease the frown on his forehead.
It didn't.
Dmitry didn't say anything else. He put one arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tightly once before letting go. I felt something cold pressing against my front and looked down to see that he was offering a half-empty bottle of vodka he was holding with his other hand. I grabbed the bottle, opened the cap, and took a drink. "Thanks, mate."
Then we both looked at the sky above us but this time, I wondered if Dmitry actually missed his home.
"рад помочь." (happy to help)
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Dear Readers, well, what do you think about that? Do you feel bad for Alana? Angry at Ryker? Tell us!