Thirty Six

Zeke POV 

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to turn slowly and push myself off the door, rolling my shoulders back and dragging in a deep breath. I didn't have time to wallow in guilt or question my choices. I had to focus on her.

As I rounded the corner to the stairs, I nearly tripped over Wayne's body, sprawled across the floor.

Fuck.

For a second, I just stared down at him, my pulse still hammering like a war drum in my chest. He wasn't moving—completely out cold. A small smear of blood marked the floor where his head had hit it on the way down.

Guilt punched me in the gut.

I crouched down beside him, carefully checking his pulse—steady and strong, just like I knew it would be. But seeing him like this—broken and crumpled because of me—made my stomach twist into knots.

This wasn't who I was. I wasn't supposed to hurt my pack. I wasn't supposed to let my emotions control me.

I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to steady myself before grabbing Wayne under the arms and hauling him up. His weight was dead, hanging heavy against me, but I shifted him into a fireman's carry over my shoulder, ignoring the strain it put on my sore muscles.

His head lolled to the side as I made my way through the corridors, trying to keep my steps as quiet as possible. I didn't need more people seeing this—seeing me carrying the man I'd just put down.

"This isn't Wayne's fault." I gritted my teeth, trying to push down the rising tide of guilt. "He was just doing his duty. Hell, he was just following orders."

"He got in our way. He shouldn't have done that." Payne huffed in the back of my mind.

"I'm the one who lost it," I shot back. "Don't act like it was his fault."

The door to Wayne's room was cracked open, and I nudged it with my shoulder, stepping inside. His mate—Becky—was already up, brushing her hair at the dresser. She spun around when I entered, eyes widening at the sight of Wayne hanging limply over my shoulder.

"Oh my God! Wayne!" She rushed forward, panic flashing in her wide eyes.

I laid him carefully on the bed, propping his head up with a pillow before stepping back, keeping my hands raised to show I wasn't a threat.

"He's okay," I managed to get out, my voice rough. "I found him like this. No idea what happened."

"Thank you, Beta. Thank you so much for helping him." Becky knelt beside him, brushing her fingers over his bruised jaw. 

"Yeah. Just... keep an eye on him. Let me know when he wakes up." I nodded stiffly, unable to meet her gaze. Tears pricked her eyes, and she nodded rapidly, gripping Wayne's hand like she could keep him tethered to reality. 

"You're such a good man, Beta. Always looking out for everyone." The words hit me like a fucking sledgehammer to the chest.

Good man.

If she knew the truth—if she knew that I had done this—she'd be terrified of me.

"Stop feeling guilty. He's fine. We did what we had to do." Payne growled low in the back of my mind, clearly unimpressed. I shot him a mental snarl and forced a weak smile at Becky.

"I know you will find out who did this Beta. Wayne will be grateful. thank you." I nodded again before dipping out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me; not sure what I could say to that. The second it clicked shut, I leaned against the wall, sucking in a breath like I'd just been punched in the gut.

I was losing my grip.

Losing myself.

And it was all because of her.

"Chop chop, lover boy. She'll be up soon." Payne rumbled in my head, his tone softer this time. "Don't want to keep our girl waiting, do we?"

"No. Can't keep her waiting." I huffed out a breath, trying to steady the trembling in my hands. I forced myself to push off the door, rolling my shoulders back and dragging in a deep breath. I didn't have time to wallow in guilt or question my choices. I had to focus on her.

I went to my room first, stripping out of my clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water did nothing to ease the tension knotting my shoulders, but I forced myself to stay calm, to breathe through the lingering anger.

One thing at a time.

I had to make sure she was taken care of.

And I couldn't let anyone—especially Neo—see how badly I was falling apart.

Once I was dressed and pulled together, I hurried down to the kitchen. The place was mostly empty, a few low-ranked wolves milling about and grabbing coffee. They didn't look at me, didn't dare make eye contact. Word had probably spread already. They knew better than to get in my way right now.

I grabbed the ingredients, moving on autopilot as I scrambled eggs, crisped up bacon, and buttered some toast. My hands moved mechanically, but my mind was elsewhere—still trapped in that hallway, still hearing the sound of Wayne hitting the ground.

I couldn't afford to lose control like that. Not again.

But when it came to Sky...

I was already too far gone.

The smell of the bacon filled the room, and I forced myself to focus. This was good. This was safe. Keeping her away from Neo's wrath. Making sure she didn't have to face his fucking attitude first thing in the morning.

I plated up the food and wiped down the counter just as I heard footsteps behind me.

The air in the room changed, growing thick and tense.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Good night?"

Neo's voice was smooth, deceptively casual, but I could hear the underlying threat, the suspicion thickening each word.

He was standing just inside the doorway, his gaze fixed on me with a glint of cold calculation.