The Alpha’s Contract (Taylor West) novel Chapter 236

Mallory

“What an absolute bitch!” I snap to myself in annoyance. How could they come from the same father but be so different.

Damien swings the front door open. He had made sure Neah had returned to Dane before joining me.

“What the fuck was that shit you were playing at?” He demands. “I had to tell Neah that it was my idea for you to be hiding in the fucking trees.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because everything you do, she finds suspicious. You are just lucky she believe it. Are you trying to get yourself killed now?”

“No, I just… I thought I could help by keeping watch. No one will let me join in on guard duty so I figured I would do it myself and we all know Rogues and Lycans like trees.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me what you were doing?”

“Because you probably would have said no. You seem to have forgotten that I used to watch over the Rogues before you. That I would keep an eye out for anyone driving through the town. And it was a good job I was in the trees. Neither of you saw the gun that was stuck down the back of her stupid leather leggings!”

“A gun?” He meets me with the same surprise as when I saw it.

“Yes! Not the first thing that comes to mind for a weapon used by a Lycan, right, but I know what I saw!”

I hold the pot of coffee up to him and gesture if he wants one. He nods, slowly sitting at the table as he absorbs my words.

“You think she was going to kill Neah?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that the moment she asked to speak to Neah alone, I had to do something. Neah may still hate me, but if I can prevent her death, I will.” I shrug my shoulders. I was tired of trying to prove myself but I will continue to do it as long as I am here and alive.

“I appreciate what you did.”

“But she doesn’t, does she?” I sigh. “I don’t know what else I can do, Damien. If I just sit around, I feel like I’m just waiting for the day that Neah decides enough is enough and she is going to have me killed. If I do something, it’s wrong. If I don’t do anything, it’s wrong. I’ve said it to you many times, but maybe now, now is the time I leave, for good.”

“No.” His answer is blunt. No reasoning to why he said no. Just the one singular word.

“This is not whining. This is being at the end of my patience. Because unlike other situations, it’s not like I can just take her forgiveness from her. It’s not a physical object! I have to earn it and I really don’t know how.” I place his mug in front of him a little harder than I intended and spill coffee on the table.

I angrily wipe up the spill. Feeling his dark eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Have you ever considered that it might not actually be about you?” There isn’t an ounce of frustration in his tone, unlike mine.

“What are you talking about?”

“The whole time we have been here, what have we learned?”

“That I’m the bitch?!”

He snorts and shakes his head. “She comes from trauma. Not once has she had it easy, ever. And I still believe that we don’t know everything. The darkness clings to every ounce of her being, feeding on that trauma, playing with her thoughts and feelings in ways that she probably doesn’t even know. You know that.”

“And then there is also the possibility that she doesn’t know how to deal with someone saying sorry to her. Or maybe she has never heard it from someone who genuinely means it. We both know that sometimes, it's easier to be angry at the world than it is to forgive. And it's ten times harder for her because she is fighting something only she can fight.”