“Told you!” Sydney shouted.
Noah cleared his throat and the group turned serious and moved out of his way. “Having fun?” he asked. And to think, he’d worried about her alone with them. Fate hadn’t made a mistake when it had put them together.
She winked at him. “A blast. You?”
“It’s not terrible,” he admitted. But now that he knew she was okay, he needed space away from everyone. Quiet.
It was crazy. He could never tell anyone this, but he wished he was back in his cell because it was quiet and predictable and cozy in a completely fucked-up way. He wanted to be free. He wanted to be with Sydney and see his family and go back home and have a pack. He wanted all of the things that seemed to have been just laid at his feet overnight. But the noise, the unpredictability, the constant socialization was getting to him. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wear the mask tonight.
He recalled loving these things as a pup, but now… he felt broken. It hadn’t been so clearly apparent what was wrong with him, but something inside him had died in that place. Every day as he’d said his name to himself and every afternoon when he’d dreamed of the past, he’d thought he was holding onto everything, but it had all slipped through his fingers one granule at a time until he was left with this shell that needed to get away before he crawled out of his skin.
He pulled Sydney away from the group, far enough to be out of earshot. “Are you drunk?”
“A little,” she admitted.
“Then I want you to come upstairs to the room with me. I know you’re stronger now, and I think I have their loyalty, but it’s too soon to know for sure. I don’t want to leave you with them like this.”
He half expected her to become belligerent. Her inhibitions were way down, and he still didn’t completely trust the pack would respect him enough to not take advantage of that. But she didn’t fight to stay behind with the others.
“Are you okay?” she asked, coming back to herself.
“Fine. I just need some space.”
She was skeptical but didn’t question him again in the bar.
“We’re going upstairs,” Noah said. “Don’t disturb us unless there is an emergency. We’ll see you tomorrow in the lobby at sunset. And start packing. As soon as the moon begins to wane, we have to get on the road and head home.”
One of the wolves at the bar spoke up. “Are we going to join your family’s pack?”
Noah shook his head. “No. We’ll stay separate. There will be no integrating of the packs. We should be able to share general space, but it would be better if we remained our own group.”
The wolf looked relieved. Noah didn’t blame him. As much as he missed his family and their pack, and as much as he feared he couldn’t handle the alpha thing, his instincts screamed differently. He didn’t want to be in constant battle with his dad. They’d find a makeshift den separate from the hive.
He led Sydney from the group. As they left, the wolves got rowdy again, letting out howls because of course they assumed he and Sydney were going to their private den—or suite—for mating purposes.
It was a possibility, but more important to him was to escape before he combusted from too much social interaction.
Sydney followed Noah upstairs to what she’d been privately thinking of as the alpha suite. She still couldn’t believe the wolves seemed so willing to leave their home. If this place weren’t so far from her family and Noah’s, and if it wasn’t so close to the city, she’d want to stay. They had a cool set-up.
The irony of wanting to live close to her parents wasn’t lost on her, but it wasn’t as if she’d wanted to get away from them. She’d just wanted her own autonomy, and not to be treated like an over-sheltered teenager for the next several centuries. Hardly an unreasonable desire.
Tension rolled off her mate. From his perspective it might have been foolish of her to be in the bar, surrounded by werewolves and getting drunk. Though she was much stronger now, she wasn’t silly enough to think she could take on the entire pack in a fight. She didn’t even think Noah could do that if they collectively turned on him. Though he’d leave enough bodies on the ground to make the rest think twice before attempting that suicide mission.
Sydney had no idea what had come over her when that wolf openly defied her, insisting he wouldn’t accept a vampire alpha. It was a rage that had risen from the depths of her being to flow out through her muscles as she shoved the wolf as far and as fast as she could. Her heart had pounded in her chest. She’d never escalated any interaction with anyone to violence because she knew she couldn’t back it up.
She wanted to blame it on Noah’s blood, something in werewolves that influenced her. That might be partly true, but it was also an impotent rage that had simmered in her for as long as she could remember. It had taken hold the night she’d woken to find she wasn’t allowed to play with Noah anymore. It had grown stronger when she’d heard he’d disappeared. And it kept piling on with each restriction her father added to her life in the name of protecting her.
She knew he loved her and worried and wanted to keep her safe, but once she’d reached adulthood, shouldn’t her fate have been in her own hands? The anger had grown so strong and so much a part of her that it had blended into the background, simmering underneath the facade of Sweet Sydney—the person they all thought she was.
Noah’s blood wasn’t new rage. It was permission. Agency. The ability to DO something. So when that wolf had implied as so many others around her had before, that she was less-than, it had been the final straw. She hadn’t thought how it might negatively affect Noah. She hadn’t considered it might incite fighting or put the two of them in danger. All she’d cared about was that she’d spent far too long being mild and meek and trying to push the rage down underneath the inability to express it.
She’d been shocked when the wolves had looked at her with new respect after that. It was only then that she remembered things she’d seen her father do to maintain his power and the bits of pack behavior she’d observed when she was a kid still playing with Noah. There was so much politics under the surface of any powerful person, so much artifice—a carefully controlled act and sleight of hand, dancing like a puppet to keep the others gaping up at you in wonder so they didn’t turn on you.
After that moment, she’d realized they saw her as part of the new alpha pair—not some abnormally weak freak vampire that Noah had for some reason taken under his protection. She’d proven herself, and as long as she didn’t back down from them or act nervous around them, they’d continue to see her this way. The shots at the bar had been pure politics. Part of her was grateful Noah had dragged her away, because she really was a bit drunk, and it might not enhance her new bad ass image to be stumbling all over the place.
Noah pulled her into their room and locked and barricaded the door.
“Are you upset with me?”
In response, he shoved her against the wall, his lips pressed against hers. His mouth trailed to her throat to place kisses there as well. “Why would I be upset with you?” he rumbled. “The pack loves you. They like you more than they like me.”