Chapter Twelve

Devon POV

I lay flat on my back, my eyes tracing the patterns of cracks in the ceiling. My mind was a swirling mess of frustration and failure. The dull white light from the single bulb overhead cast harsh shadows, but it didn’t help ease the dark weight settling heavily on my chest. I could hear the muffled sounds of people moving about outside my room, but all of it felt distant and irrelevant.

I had failed. I had promised myself that I would be the one to take control, to make the pack strong again, but all I had done was fall short. I couldn’t even deal with a handful of rogue wolves. They were nothing more than strays, just like me, but somehow, they had outsmarted me.

A deep breath filled my lungs, but it did nothing to calm me. I tossed and turned, my hands clenching the sheets, pulling them into fists. How had I been so stupid? So weak?

The sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand startled me. I turned my head just enough to see the screen lighting up, a reminder of how far I’d fallen. Elder Lawrence. I reached for it instinctively, swiping my thumb across the screen. The conversation that followed was a blur, the words nothing but cold formalities. He told me it would be done, that I could take my position as alpha, but there was a coldness in his voice that I couldn’t ignore. A sense of doubt.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” The question hung in the air, biting at my pride.

I pressed the phone to my ear harder. “Of course, I’m ready,” I spat back, the words coming out with a sharp edge. “I’ll take what’s mine.”

Elder Lawrence was silent for a beat. Then he spoke, his voice laced with an edge of warning. “You better be. The pack’s patience is wearing thin.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the screen, watching the call end, but I didn’t feel a sense of relief. All I felt was the pressure building in my chest. My hands gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t how I had planned it.

With a growl of frustration, I stood from the bed, pacing back and forth across the room. My thoughts were swirling, tangled in anger and self-doubt. I knew what I needed to do. I needed to take control. To show them I wasn’t just some failure waiting for a chance. But I couldn’t shake the image of those rogues from earlier. They had gotten the better of me, and that stung.

I slammed my fist against the wall. The impact sent a jolt of pain up my arm, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t even begin to dull the fire of anger.

Why couldn’t I just win for once?

I could hear the door creaking open behind me, but I didn’t bother to turn. I already knew who it was. Valerie. She always seemed to be there when I was at my worst. Her presence was a comfort, but right now, I didn’t want comfort. I wanted to be left alone.

“What’s going on, Devon?” Her voice was soft, filled with concern. She always had that look in her eyes, the one that made her want to fix everything. It annoyed me, but at the same time, it felt like she was the only one who understood.

I didn't answer at first. I just kept pacing, my hands clenched in tight fists by my sides. I could feel her eyes on me, could feel the weight of her gaze trying to read me, trying to find a way in.

“Devon...” she said again, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

I whirled around, fury flashing in my eyes. “Stop! Just... stop. You don’t get it, Valerie.”

She flinched, stepping back slightly, but didn’t back down. “Then explain it to me,” she said, her tone steady. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. You’re angry, but you’re not saying why. You can’t just keep it bottled up.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “You think I’m angry because of the rogues? No. I’m angry because I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I’m not ready. I’m not strong enough, every single moment I needed to vent my anger, you just appeared from nowhere to tell me what to do.”

My voice cracked on the last word. It was an admission I hadn’t wanted to make. Not even to myself. But it felt like the weight of it was choking me, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Valerie’s expression softened. She took a small step forward, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I saw the vulnerability in her gaze. She knew I was struggling, knew I was falling apart.

“You are strong enough, Devon,” she said, her voice quiet but unwavering. “You just need to believe in yourself. You’ve got the strength to do this. You just have to stop running from it.”

I shook my head. “You don’t get it. Everyone’s looking at me like I’m some failure. They think I’m weak. How can I lead them if they think I can’t even handle a few rogues?”

She moved closer, her presence gentle, but firm. “You don’t have to do it alone. You’ve got people who believe in you. I believe in you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to tell her that believing in me wasn’t going to change anything, but before I could say anything, I felt my temper snap. The pressure that had been building inside me finally broke. I grabbed my phone from the table, throwing it across the room. It hit the wall with a loud crack, the screen shattering in an explosion of glass.

I stared at the broken device, my chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“I can’t do this, Valerie,” I whispered, my voice raw, barely audible.

There was a long pause, the room thick with the tension of unsaid words. Then, to my surprise, Valerie moved closer again, her hands reaching out toward me. I flinched instinctively, but she didn’t back away. She placed a hand on my arm, her touch warm but firm.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” she said again, her words soft, but there was a determination in them that caught me off guard. “I’m here, Devon. I’m here with you, and I’ll be here when you’re ready to fight. You don’t have to fight this battle by yourself.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of her words sinking in. At that moment, I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could find the strength I was looking for. But the fear of failure still gnawed at me, a constant reminder of everything I had yet to overcome.