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The same unfamiliar voice responded. “Yes. You are. And you’re lucky he’s already asked me to not bring you to your knees and make you my bitch, although you already have the ‘bitch’ part down.”

I tried to control my anger, but it bubbled out, my tone biting as I snarled, “Who the fuck are you?”

“The person that’s been fixing your fuck up. Tristin, Delaney’s best friend.”

Ah.

“Can I speak to him please?”

“Here’s the thing, Elias Bordeaux. You can’t. I’ll tell him you called and if he wishes to return your call, he will. Stop. Calling. Him.”

Once again, the call was disconnected, leaving me disoriented. I finally placed the phone down and stood, staggering out of my office and back to the dining room. When I rejoined Jason and Jonah, neither asked what happened. Instead, Jason scooted close to me and placed his head on my shoulder while Jonah patted the other. After a while of sitting in silence, I finally cracked, my voice breaking.

“I’m pretty sure we’re done.”

To say that I was miserable was an understatement. I’d been in an utterly wretched mood for the past two months. I’d been having trouble controlling my scent output, so much so, that the restaurant was closed the past couple of days “due to repairs”. Thankfully, the closure coincided with my surgery date.

On the morning of, Jonah picked me up. I was grateful that Jason had a prior obligation. If I was forced to listen to one more thing his therapist said, I was likely to throw myself out of a moving vehicle. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy that he was going to therapy. However, what I wasn’t happy with was how Jason was using his gained insight to psychoanalyze me and the situation with Delaney.

I was in the middle of pulling on a zip up hoodie when Jonah entered. For the past few weeks, Jonah and Jason had been more mindful about not mentioning my scenting. Admittedly, they’d been more mindful because the last time they pointed it out, I snapped on them in ways I hadn’t in years. I did my best to pull myself together, choosing to focus my energy on the surgery instead of the depression that was eating me alive. I didn’t understand why this hurt as badly as it did. It wasn’t like we were in a relationship. Granted, I did share my feelings not too long ago, but this wasn’t the first time I told someone I liked them. Jonah interrupted my thoughts. Thankfully.

“The doctor said your surgery is going to be outpatient, correct?”

I nodded, repeating back the information I was told at pre-op. “If all goes well, the surgery shouldn’t take that long. I’ll be in recovery until I wake up from the anesthesia and after that I’m supposed to have someone stay with me for twenty-four hours.”

“Not that I mind staying over, but I’m curious as to why that’s the case?” Jonah took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to look over at me.

“I don’t know the exact science behind it all, but the doctor mentioned something about there not being enough research done on how anesthesia affects dominant alphas. The side effects can range from hypersomnia to command auditory hallucinations. I guess it’s for my safety.”

Jonah cleared his throat, shifting his gaze from the road to me and back. “I’m unable to spend the full twenty-four hours with you. Jason has agreed to come over.” My scent swelled, my irritation quickly filling the car. “Before you bite my head off again, the anesthesia will be wearing off most of the day. It will be easy for you to ignore Jason. He does mean well, Elias. We both do. We’ve never seen you like this and it is a touch alarming.”

My tone was razor sharp, the words cutting. “You two vacillate between being concerned and telling me how I’ve fucked up.”

Shaking his head, Jonah interjected. “No one has told you that you’ve fucked up. You’ve been asking us, for weeks, where you might have gone wrong. Despite us already having had that conversation, you’ve been insistent about having it repeatedly. Are you looking for a different answer? For us to tell you that you did everything right? Neither of us know what you’re dealing with because all you’re doing is smothering everyone in a five-mile radius in your scent. If you shared—”

“Share what? That I’m hurting and don’t know why the cut is so deep? That I spend most nights lying awake thinking about him? That—,” I hedged, my voice wavering as anger gave way to sadness. “That I want you two to tell me everything will be fine and we can fix it, but you haven’t even attempted to console me?”

Jonah pulled into the outpatient surgery center, sighing heavily as he parked. He turned to look at me, remorse clouding his eyes. “I’m sorry, Eli. You’ve been handling this in a way that has led me to believe you didn’t need to be consoled.”

My throat tightened. “I don’t know how to handle this, Jonah, and I’m struggling. I thought, if not Jason, you’d be able to pick up on that.”

“I’m not a mind reader. What was I supposed to think when your emotional response has only been anger? You usually come to us first and when you didn’t this time around, we both thought you were managing.”

I slumped in the passenger seat, scrubbing a hand down my face. I wanted to be able to manage this on my own, but I couldn’t. My house was in disarray, I had laundry piled so high that even thinking about doing it was overwhelming, my appetite waned, and my sleep schedule was fucked. If I wasn’t angry, the alternative was the black hole of despair I was trying to climb out of. If I succumbed to the pull, I’d be useless. There were days I wanted to give in and stay in bed, but I found an excuse to get up and go about my day, regardless of how I felt.

I believed things wouldn’t be as bad if my mother wasn’t calling as often as she was to remind me of the “appropriate mate” they’d chosen. When those conversations occurred, I was reminded of all of the ways Delaney was perfect for me and how well we fit together.

I shook off the thoughts before opening the door and getting out of the car. “I can’t finish this conversation right now. Sign me in so I can get this over with.”

Jonah gave me the space to avoid. “I hope things can be fixed.”

“Me too,” I softly agreed. “Me too.”

Waking up in my bed was disorienting. The last thing I recalled was Jonah signing me in for surgery. I didn’t even know which one of them picked me up or who was here. The effects of the anesthesia lingered, my head feeling foggy and limbs heavy. I struggled to climb out of bed, eventually managing to do so, all the while swaying on my feet. I grabbed hold of the nightstand to steady myself. My mouth was impossibly dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of it when I tried to speak. Dusk had crept in, the last rays of sunlight dwindling down to give way to the stars. I slept all day and for the first time, I did so without dreams forcing me awake.

I’d been having a recurring dream that was difficult to shake even after waking. Delaney and I were together and happy. In the blink of an eye things changed and I was the alpha my father always wanted me to be. I was mean to him, yelling at and berating him. The desire to make him submit was so strong, I’d wake up still feeling the burden of my emotional response. I knew my subconscious was not only highlighting that age old fear, but what I feared I’d become with Delaney once I became more comfortable around him. The truth of who I was—what I was—had been a source of shame almost all of my life. I’d hidden it, pushing it down as deep as I could, and I was scared shitless that one day, I’d snap.

Maybe that day has already come.