'It would be easy.'
Callan could feel his wolf's powerful urging. He pounded angrily, begging to be let loose. Its rage was destructive, coursing through Callan and making his blood pump faster.
'It would be easy to kill Alexander.'
That was all he wanted to do. He didn't have to shift to do that, but if he did, Alexander's death would be worse- bloodied and messy. Callan hated messy. He had always been cool-headed, and the few times he'd managed to lose that cool, he also lost complete control of himself and let both his wolf and anger make decisions, ones that had proven to be lethal to everyone involved.
But now, even he was barely stopping himself from doing his wolf's bidding because he was right: it would in fact be east to kill the Alpha of the Dark Wood Pack.
He'd had days to watch Alexander and converse with him, and he knew a coward when he saw one — a pathetic weakling who ruled his people with impulse rather than logic, one who instilled fear in his subjects and thought it enough to keep them in check.
There was nothing worse than a leader who lacked logical thinking, and if Callan survived not killing the bastard, he would enjoy watching every moment of his downfall instead.
His eyes remained fixed on the woman, returning his attention to her. Her face was flushed from anger, and she was still breathing heavily, reeling from her words. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself from noticing everything about her — her wide eyes, the way her long lashes hung down her lids, how she smelled so good.
It left him breathless most of the time. She smelled distinctively of flowers, of the cold, crisp air on the hottest days bringing one to its awareness, leaving one longing for more while still giving enough. It was how he felt with her, as though he could never have enough of her. She made his heart soar and caused his nerves to be a wreck.
Hell! The Goddess really had him on this one. Sophia was perfection in its physical form, and that made it the hardest to stay away despite how much he told himself to because every single moment spent with her took his head farther from what was important-his duty.
Still, every bit of him craved to protect her, the mere thought of leaving her behind caused him greater distress than anything had. Every single minute spent in Alexander's presence, Callan had to fight with himself not to do irreparable damage to the other man because there were just some things once done, he could never recover from. No matter the number of times he told himself she was none of his business, that he should reject her and break this attraction, Callan still found himself completely drawn to her, to her scent, to her face, and her voice that offered him a slice of what eternal bliss would feel like. It came out softly like the falling of the most delicate leaves in autumn.
"You won't tell me?" she asked, and if he could sell his soul to simply listen to her speak for the rest of his life, Callan wasn't sure he wouldn't. He took in a breath, and he realized that lately, he seemed to be doing that a lot but with this came a whiff of her soothing scent, and he didn't mind.
"She is someone I am to be mated to as an upholding of a merger," he said to her, watching her face for any reaction.
Amelia was more than that. She was his childhood friend and the first girl he had allowed close to him. As a child who knew he was next in line for the Alpha position, he hadn't had a chance to grow like other kids his age, but with the frequent visits of the Alpha of the neighboring pack, Amelia and he had formed a friendship that had been promised to bloom into something more as parts of the condition for a pack merger.
The Black Tide Pack remained the most powerful, dominating the rest of its kind with not only the strength and intelligence of it's members but by their population. They were vast in number, and it made them fearsome to others of their kind, but being the leader of a pack like his hadn't come easy.
Callan had known even before anything else what was required of him as a leader.
Duty always came first.
Desires had never been an option.
Sophia's face fell but only slightly as though she had been expecting his answer. “Do you love her?” she asked, her voice so quiet he barely heard the words that came out but he did and he pondered over them deeply.
Did he love Amelia?
That was a question he’d asked himself more times than he could count. How couldn't say he did, that would be a lie, but he deeply cared for her, she’d been there for him for as long as he could remember and he owed her that affection regardless.
He shook his head. “I don't know.” That wasn't a lie but neither was it the complete truth.
"Then of what use shall I be to you and this woman you may or may not love?" she asked him after a few seconds of hesitancy. He could tell the inner turmoil going on with her.
"Why should I go with you?"
Because he couldn't imagine a life where he would never see Sophia for the rest of it.
Because he was certain the thought of not seeing her, smelling her, or hearing her speak was all it'd take for him to live miserably until he took his last breath.
He had thought this over and over in his head. How would he take her from here? What would be her place back in his pack, and how in hell was he meant to stay loyal to Amelia and his duty if he couldn't even last a day without wanting to speak to Sophia?
"You would have a better position with the Black Tide Pack than here. I'll make sure you live a good life and that no one harms a hair on your head," he promised, and he was going to uphold those words even if it cost his blood.
Her lips curled up in a small, sad smile that he wished he could wipe off. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline," she said.
His heart stilled for the next few seconds, and when he opened his mouth to speak what even he had no idea of, he found that nothing came out.
"Thank you for the offer.”
“You want to remain here?” he asked incredulously.
“A mental prison is just as torturous as a physical one, Alpha Callan, if not worse.”
She bowed even though he'd told her not to, and with that, she left, heading towards the kitchen's back door.
Callan didn't think emotional pain could somehow transcend into physical pain, but the tightening in his chest and the sudden inability to stand straight was enough to say otherwise.