Chapter Twelve

Della was a mess. Her head was a mess, her body was a mess. Worse, people could tell she was a mess, because she couldn't sleep properly, and the big purple circles under her eyes were starting to give it away. Her work was suffering. Mags was concerned. She was actually considering going to see her grandmother to ask what happened when one opposed the universe's magic and to ask for a tea that would stop her from spending approximately two-thirds of her waking hours barely able to function around how much she missed Leo.

Doing the right thing had never felt so awful.

And that was the thing, she knew she had done the right thing. Knew that, even if so much of her life wasn't devoted to making change in ways that helped people, she wouldn't be able to live with being with someone who not only looked the other way when their pack leader ordered violence, but actually carried it out.

The problem was, she told herself, she had had this image in her head of a Leo who didn't exist. A man who did things he didn't like—like arbitrating fights over vegetable gardens—but was overall good. A man with a dirty mouth and a body built for sin and an impossible pull on her that could only be the supernatural magic Grandmother Elise had talked about, but a man who, at the end of the day, would not stand by while the wrong thing was being done. And she'd been falling for that man. She'd claimed that man, on the rocks by the most beautiful waterfall she'd ever seen. She'd let down some—just a few—of the walls around her heart, and he'd walked straight in and claimed it. But it was a lie, it was all a lie. That man, the man she'd almost convinced herself she could allow herself to belong to, wasn't real. And that left her pining and broken and unable to eat or sleep or think properly, all for someone who had never existed in the first place.

And it hurt. Being away from him hurt. It was like someone had shoved a knife into her belly and was continually twisting it. Truly, the supernatural magic did not like being thwarted. Did not like that she'd run away from the man it was trying so hard to tie her to, heart and soul. Everything she saw was actively reminding her of him. Every room in her house where he'd touched her. Every time she skipped lunch at the office to try to catch up on her workload. Her car, which he'd pressed her against with his body the first time they'd kissed. Even when she chose her clothes for work each morning, she found herself picking things based on what he would think. Sometimes, things he'd approve of her wearing. Others, things that he wouldn't, as though her dressing just on the line of "suitable for work" might drag him out of her imagination to deliciously punish her for being inappropriate, for wearing a skirt like that for anyone but him, for wearing heels this high to the office where anyone could see. And despite the fact that she wished it were otherwise, she longed for the possessiveness of his touch. The way he'd practically set her body aflame with the lightest brush of his hands, his lips. The safety and rightness she'd felt in his arms.

But it hadn't been real, she had to keep reminding herself. That man she'd thought she was falling for wasn't real.

So, she'd spent what little downtime she had to spare trying to convince herself—to convince her aching heart—that going back to him would be wrong. She looked for hospital records of werewolves from Blue Crescent, complaints of violence, but there was next to nothing available, even with her government access. The werewolves really did keep their own business to themselves.

Sometimes, she thought her sensor spells were picking up on just a trace of Leo's presence, as though he was there, but slightly out of range. But when she checked, she only ever saw the taillights of a car disappearing down the road. Clearly, she was officially losing her mind, if her desperation for him was enough to have her inventing signs of his presence when he wasn't even there.

One day, telling herself it wasn't just because she was desperate for information that would convince her stubborn heart to let go of this man, she approached Petra, one of her friends at work who happened to be a werewolf, while they were waiting for their turn at the coffee machine in the staff break room. Petra wasn't Blue Crescent, but Della figured surely, they must share some information between packs, even if they didn't outside of them.

After they'd gone through their usual chat about their excessive workloads, the afterschool program, and the fact that Nathan in reception kept checking them both out in a way he clearly thought was subtle, Della launched into her interrogation. "I actually have some werewolf-specific questions you might be able to answer if you have some time later."

"I have time now, if you don't mind using your coffee break for work stuff," Petra smiled.

Della sat forward at the table. "It's about the Blue Crescent pack," she started slowly. "They sent their Beta to a couple of the afterschool program meetings, but I can't work out if they're actually interested."

"They're a very insular pack," Petra said. "I'm surprised you got a representative to attend in the first place, to be honest."

"That's what I've heard," Della agreed. "So, I started looking into them, and there's not much on record. I was just wondering if you knew anything about the pack or their leadership that you might be willing to share. So, I can get a better idea of how to get them to commit to the program, of course," she added, hating herself a little bit for resorting to lying to her friend.

"I don't know how much I know that will be useful to you," Petra said. "They're the biggest pack in Mystic City, as I'm sure you know, but they're very private. Their Alpha, James Norfolk, is kind of… I don't know, maybe racist is the right word? He doesn't like anyone but werewolves. Hardly interacts outside the pack unless he must. And between you and me, if he was my Alpha, I'd be looking for a different pack."

"Why is that?" Della asked, her mouth dry.

"Rumor has it that he's been pretty much ruling the pack like a king from his castle for years now. Doesn't train with his wolves, doesn't get out into the community to help people. Just leaves it all to his Beta and expects everyone to bow down to him, even when he's giving orders like," she dropped her voice to just above a whisper, "actually beating people who don't do what he wants." She cleared her throat and glanced around as though someone else might have heard her. "You didn't hear that from me, okay? I don't want any trouble with Blue Crescent, and neither does my pack. We share a territory border with them, you know. The relationship hasn't been the best the last few years, and I don't need to be the reason it got any worse."

"Of course," Della said. "What about the Beta? Is he just as bad?"

"He hasn't been around nearly as long," Petra said. "He probably doesn't know any different. But I've heard he's one of the good ones—tries to soften James' orders where he can, helps the members of the pack who are struggling. Stuff that a good Alpha would probably do if they had one. Betas are supposed to be backup to the Alpha, a kind of brains' trust to balance them out. But James just uses his to do all the things he doesn't want to do himself—or maybe can't do anymore, if he hasn't been training with the rest of the pack." She smirked. "It's kind of a shame that he's Alpha, really, because as long as he is, I seriously doubt you'll be able to get them into the afterschool programs. And because they're the biggest, a lot of the other packs take their cues from Blue Crescent. So, you might have to wait until they have a change of Alpha to get the werewolves involved in the program." She smiled sympathetically at Della.

"A change of Alpha?" Della prodded. "What, do they retire at a certain age or something?"

Petra laughed. "Retire? No way. I mean, an Alpha can abdicate his position, but that almost never happens. Only if they know they can't win the fight and they want to avoid the shame of losing."

"The fight?" Della asked.

"If someone challenges the Alpha, the two of them fight for the position. Normally, the Beta acts as the Alpha's Second, though, so even if you've got a weak Alpha, like," she lowered her voice, "James, you'd also have to beat their Beta to win."

"That's seriously how werewolves decide their leadership positions? By beating each other bloody?"

Petra shrugged. "We're not so much like you witches, all politics and popular vote this and council session that. We're old-fashioned, and this is the old way. Traditions are important to us. I must say, it's a nice change from all the hoops we must leap through here for proposal approval or grant funding. It's simpler."

"But the Beta position? That's inherited, right?"

The other woman nodded. "Parent to child, usually. If a Beta dies childless, or abdicates the position, though, the Alpha can appoint a new one. Not that abdication ever happens, really—the Beta takes an oath, and breaking it is a mark of great dishonor."

"So, the Alpha just chooses someone? There isn't any process to it?" Della asked. "Nominations, or a selection process?"

"Only if you're the Alpha," Petra said, laughing like Della had just told a hilarious joke. "God, you witches. It must take you years to get anything done."

Della thought about arguing, or even taking offense, but the truth was she was just too tired from so many days of heartbreak-induced insomnia. Add to that, she was pretty sure nothing she said could possibly change Petra's mind.

"Well, that about answers my questions," she said with a smile, draining the last of her coffee. "Thank you for being so open with me, Petra."

"Any time," Petra grinned. "And for what it's worth, I really do hope we manage to get some werewolves involved with the program. So many of our pups drop out of school and take up jobs in the pack and never realize there's more to the world than the limits of pack territory. I think some integration with other species would be really valuable for them."

"I think the rest of us could learn a lot from the werewolves, too," Della said honestly. "I might not agree with your leadership selection process," she added with a laugh, "but there is plenty I'm sure you could teach us. And that's half the point of these programs, really. To try to get everyone to engage with each other and learn, so there's less mystery and less fear between the species."

Petra hesitated. "I heard about what happened to you, Della—with that human bastard. And for what it's worth, I think it's wonderful that you're doing things to work against it ever happening again."

Della gave Petra the most genuine smile she'd managed in days. "Thank you. I just… I just couldn't stand by and do nothing to change things, knowing that was the kind of result it produced. Knowing more people might be hurt."

Petra finished her own coffee and stood. "You're a good person, Della. But a word of advice?" Della nodded. "Get some sleep. You look like you're about to drop."

***

Leo usually saw his mother once a month when they had dinner together. She didn't seem to mind that his busy schedule kept him from visiting much more than that—it meant she always had several weeks' worth of gossip to impart from her craft club, her bridge club, the training group she'd started for older members of the pack who weren't comfortable at regular sparring practice anymore. Sometimes he thought she mostly attended all these groups just to hear what everyone else had been up to—and to determine who had age-appropriate daughters that she could encourage Leo to take out on dates.

Then he'd come to one of her Christmas parties one year and realized she just loved the friendships she formed through all her extracurricular activities, loved having people around in a way she'd been missing since the loss of Leo's father and his constant stream of Beta duties-related visitors. Clearly, they had not passed this desire for constant social interaction on to Leo, who made a point of conducting as much of his work as possible outside his house. So that he could have a place where he got a break from it, or so he could pretend he wasn't carrying out the worst of James' orders, he wondered grimly as he drove over to his mother's house. Maybe he'd been trying to hide from the guilt and shame of being the kind of man who had driven Della away ever since he took up the mantle.

He tried to shake off the thoughts as he parked out the front of his mother's cheerful house, but clearly didn't do a good enough job, since she seemed to scent his ongoing misery on him the moment she opened the door.

Laura Tyler was a pretty, round-bodied woman, with reddish-brown hair now streaked liberally with grey and a penchant for brightly colored fabrics. She was also the most perceptive woman Leo had ever known. The first time he'd ever carried out a beating for James, he'd found himself driving here afterwards, and she'd taken one look at him, sat him down on the couch and fed him fresh-baked scones until he was too full and tired to think. He'd woken the next morning covered in scone crumbs and a fluffy pink blanket, to the sound of his mother humming to herself as she made breakfast in the kitchen. When he'd reluctantly opened his mouth to explain, she'd simply laid a hand over one of his and said, "It was sometimes hard for your father as well," and never asked him to talk about it any further.

This time, she surveyed him for a long moment before pulling him into a tight hug. "Well?" she asked as she led him into the house. "What's put that look on your face, Leo?"

His childhood home was largely unchanged, the postcards he'd sent his parents in his time traveling still stuck to the fridge, his father's winter coat still hanging on the back of the front door. Leo knew his mother had turned his childhood bedroom into a sewing room, but that was about the only change in the house that Leo was aware of since he'd moved out.

He took a seat at the kitchen bench, knowing she'd turn him down if he offered to help with dinner prep as she finished putting together a salad. Seeing his slumped shoulders, Laura paused. "Maybe we can talk about it in a minute, then," she said kindly. "Francine from bridge said her daughter and her partner have decided to have a baby. Isn't that lovely? It wasn't easy for Francine and Les, so they're getting started early in case that's carried through to their daughter—Roxanne, I think her name is. And Daniel and his partner—that's Daniel Court, not Daniel Bloomfield from training group—have decided to move from that big old house of theirs to one of the apartments in the building that got renovated on Suffolk Street in the center of town. Though I wish them luck trying to sell the house; it'll take a certain kind of person to want to manage a garden of that size!" She went on, listing the life events of people Leo knew only peripherally through the pack or his work as Beta. They had moved to the table and were halfway through the meal when she suggested the first single young woman Leo might like to give a call, and he couldn't help himself. He flinched at the thought of even trying to make date conversation with someone who wasn't Della, let alone putting his hands on her.

"Oh, Leo," his mother said, interrupting herself. "It's about a girl, isn't it?"

"She's not just a girl," Leo said, his voice hollow.

"What's her name?" Laura coaxed gently.

"Della. Delphinia. Greenbranch."

"A witch, then?" She sounded cautious.

"Yes, she's a witch," Leo said. His tone was harsh, but he couldn't control it. "She's… she's my mate."

His mother's eyes widened. "Your mate? But, Leo, you've always said—"

"I know what I said," Leo said. "But this can't be anything else. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. She's… she's everything, Mum. She's so smart and beautiful and kind and I wanted her from the second I caught her scent. Her scent, it's like—" He caught himself before he said anything explicit in front of his mother. "I can't even describe it. It's incredible. She's incredible."

"And you're worried about what James will do when he finds out your mate is a witch?"

"No, it's not… I mean, yes, that, but it's worse. Her whole life is about making things better for other people, about changing things so people don't get hurt by the way the system runs. And she found out about what I do for James—all the things I've hated but lived with, because that's just the way things are, instead of trying to change anything. All the violence, the threats, the intimidation. And I've done nothing. I've just let him keep sitting in his restaurant headquarters judging everyone in the pack like some kind of goddamn king, and I've done nothing to stop him hurting people. Having me hurt people."

Wordlessly, his mother stood up from the table, came around and wrapped him in her arms, fitting his head beneath her chin like he was a child again. "Oh, Leo," she said, sighing deeply. "My little boy. My baby boy has a mate."

"That's really not the biggest part of this," Leo pointed out, his voice muffled by her floral cardigan.

"I know. But let me deal with this one thing at a time, all right? First, I'm coming to terms with the fact that you found your mate. And I'm so happy for you, Leo. I thought you didn't even believe in those stories."

"Neither did I, until I met her," Leo admitted.

"And then, we come to the… other part," Laura said hesitantly. "Leo honey, James has been in decline as an Alpha for a long time. It wasn't as bad before your dad died, I guess because he didn't have a Beta as physically… intimidating as you are. Your father knew it, but he also knew he'd taken an oath to be Beta of the pack and he couldn't break it, even as his Alpha was becoming more and more tyrannical. We had hoped we might get a new Alpha in your father's time, but it never happened; I guess things weren't bad enough for people to make that kind of change. And with you as James' Second, no one is going to challenge him now. So, unless James manages to drink himself to death, Leo, I don't see that things are going to change around here. I don't see how they can." Sadness was as deep as a well in her voice. "So, you're not doing anything wrong, by living the way you are. You're simply fulfilling your oath to the pack as Beta. And if this Delphinia can't understand that, then maybe, mate or no, you and she are just too different to be together."

Everything in Leo rebelled at the very suggestion. Just accept that he and Della weren't meant to be together? Accept that he'd never again hold her in his arms, kiss her, touch her, wrap his body around hers? Just thinking it felt like drinking acid.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. If no one had challenged James because Leo, as Beta, was bound to be his Second… that meant that there were people who had wanted to. His packmates, seeking a new leader. Looking for change.

So, he wouldn't be betraying them, doing something they didn't want, if he gave it to them.

And if Leo wasn't James' Second…

"Mum," he said into the silence, "I have to go."

"Why?" she asked, her eyebrows pulling together in concern. "Is everything all right?"

"I have to talk to Raj and Emmett," he explained.

"What? Why?" his mother asked, looking put out.

"To work out which of them will be my Second when I challenge James to be Alpha of the pack," Leo said.

Laura blinked at him twice, then fainted.