Since when had Dani cared about what would be “fair” to Bree? “What brought all this on?”
“I had a talk with Rose. She made me take a good, long look at the way I’ve been acting lately. I was a little dismissive of her at first. I guess I didn’t want to hear it; didn’t want to face that you were right—I had changed. Worse, I’d changed into someone I didn’t like. Rose kept on at me until I listened. And she made me realize that I’ve been selfish and petty and a bunch of other things lately.” Dani looked at the floor. “It’s hard to let go of something when you spent years of your life imagining it would be yours.”
Bree had a vague idea of how that hard it must have been. She’d spent a long, long time wishing Alex would be hers. It had hurt when she’d forced herself to face that it wouldn’t happen. If she’d spent her life feeling sure that Alex would be hers, just as Dani was sure she’d hold the position of primary, the pain would have been crippling. If someone had then come along and tried to take Alex from her in the same way that Dani felt Bree was trying to take the primary role from her, Bree wouldn’t have reacted too well either.
“Rose made me see that I could still have the position,” Dani went on, meeting her eyes again. “I just can’t have it here. It belongs to you now; I was fighting a losing battle by opposing that. I wasn’t as angry at you as I must have seemed. I was angry at fate. It just didn’t seem fair that someone who didn’t even want the position was going to take it from me, especially when I’d only had it for a decade. I took that out on you; made you into the bad guy in my head. It was a real shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry.”
Damn if that apology didn’t sound totally genuine.
“I’d convinced myself I was doing the best thing for the pride. But the truth? I just didn’t want to lose my position. It’s not an excuse, I know, but I grew up thinking I had an inborn purpose to be primary. I trained hard for it, I poured everything I was into it. It just …” Her brow creased, and tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know who I am without it.”
Bree’s chest squeezed. Knowing the other female wouldn’t react well to sympathy, she said, “Well, I know who you are: a bit of a bitch, to tell you the truth. And not even in a good way—I could have respected that.”
Dani laughed and blinked hard, as if to fight back tears. “I’ll try to be a good bitch from now on.”
“You’ll get the hang of it eventually.” Not sure what else to say, Bree added, “I wish you luck with whatever comes next for you.”
“Thank you. I’m feeling good about the transfer. I mean, my parents said they’ll come with me, so I won’t be alone. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find my mate wherever I end up. Maybe fate is pushing me toward him. Over the next few weeks, you and I should meet up a few times so I can show you the ropes, so to speak. Being primary can be scary at first, but it’s a special thing. Don’t take it for granted.” Standing upright, Dani went on, “I was wrong, Bree. You’ll make a good primary. Just not a better one than me,” she added playfully.
Bree grinned. “I can’t even deny that.”
Chuckling again, Dani waved at the door. “Go on now, scoot. I’m a busy woman.”
Bree gave her a quick nod and then left the room. She walked through the daycare floor, carefully evading the many pallas kits and weaving her way through the child-size tables and chairs. Kids were scattered all around the room. Some were in the playhouse, others sat on the colorful mats with toys, some pottered around the play kitchen, others were napping in the cribs.
Outside, Bree found Alex talking on his cell phone.
Catching sight of her, he said, “Gotta go, Mila,” and then rang off.
“So abrupt, Alex,” Bree reprimanded with a sigh.
He just shrugged. “Everything go okay in there?”
“Yes, it did. I have some news I think you’re going to like, but let’s wait until we’re inside your apartment before I tell you.” She didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation, since it was Dani’s news to share with the pride.
“All right,” he agreed, though she could see he wanted to push. “Let’s go.”
When they were finally inside his apartment, she brought him up to speed while he made them both coffee.
“I was hoping Rose would talk with Dani,” said Alex as they settled on the sofa with their mugs in hand. He’d known the old woman loved interfering in people’s business, and he’d counted on her doing it this time, too. “She’s good at getting through to people. How do you feel about it?”
Bree huffed out a breath. “On the one hand, it’s a relief that I won’t end up battling Dani for the role of primary. On the other hand, it leaves me no choice but to take the role.”
“You’ll handle it.” He had complete confidence in her. She might not necessarily enjoy having the position, but she’d give it her all—that was just Bree’s way.
“Others might not be so happy to hear I’ll be the new primary.”
“One or two might be weird about it.” And he’d give them a ration of shit if they voiced their idiotic opinions. “The rest of the pride? They’ll accept it just fine.”
She gave him a sideways “sure” glance that was all skepticism.
“You don’t see how well people respond to you. I do. They like your no-nonsense way. Those that do want someone to faff over them can seek advice from one of the other omegas. Trust me, you’ll make a great primary.”
“I can’t say I fully believe that, but I appreciate your faith in me, so thank you.”
He grunted and then set his mug on a coaster on the coffee table. “Forgot to grab a snack.” Standing, he asked, “You want anything?”
“You just ate a bag of beef jerky.”
“Why are you telling me something I already know?”
She sighed. “Have you ever gone an entire day without snacking?”
A wolverine not have snacks throughout the day? Was she serious? Feeling his brow crease, Alex tilted his head. “What do you get out of asking stupid questions all the time? I mean, what exactly does that do for you?” He’d honestly love to get to the bottom of that.
She shook her head. “Forget I said anything.”
Just then something hit the window hard, making the thick glass crack but not break.
She froze. “The fuck?”
Alex didn’t speak. He was too busy staring at the window. No, staring at the object embedded in the center of the spiderweb cracks. He flicked his gaze to the view beyond and noticed a glimmer of metal near an open window of the adjacent apartment building.
“Get down.” Alex took her to the floor, laying her flat on her back as he draped himself over her mere milliseconds before another impact thudded into the glass, causing yet another crack. Every window in the building was bulletproof—he knew that, but it didn’t matter; it was pure instinct to throw his body over hers.
While his beast roared and raged, Alex pulled out his phone and called Tate. “Someone is shooting at my living room window. They’re in our other pride’s building, the floor below mine.” He swore as another bullet hit the glass. “Find them.”