His wolf had needed to mate, and Ryder couldn’t allow that to happen.
So he’d pulled out of her and forced her onto her stomach so he could bring them both to completion without having to make eye contact. He hadn’t wanted her to see the truth in his eyes—the truth that told her he wanted so much more than a hard fuck at the end of the day.
He wanted a true mating. Wanted someone he could share his life with. Wanted to form a mating bond that would heal them both from the inside out.
But that couldn’t happen so he’d had to be an asshole.
After he’d pulled out of her and disposed of the condom, he’d spooned behind her, unable to be as crass as to leave her spent in the middle of the bed, alone and shaking. She hadn’t looked behind her but had wrapped her hand around his as he cupped her breast. They’d slept like that without another word, but when he’d woken up early the next morning, he’d needed to leave her.
He’d wanted to wake her up by sweetly making love to her and kissing every inch of her skin. He’d wanted to show her that she was worth more than a damaged wolf.
As he couldn’t do any of that, he’d left her a note on his pillow and gone for a run.
His body still ached from the exertion, the bones in his body not quite settled since he’d shifted as quickly as he could. He’d needed the pain to help tone down the desire running through his veins. Maybe if it hurt enough, he’d be able to forget who lay in his bed.
Ryder ran a hand through his hair before leaning against a tree, his chest hurting from either the strain of the run or what he’d done—maybe both. The sun slid through the clouds, warming his flesh; though he would have thought he’d be warm enough already with all the exercise he’d just done. He stood in the middle of the forest on Talon Pack land, safe enough behind the wards, and as alone as he could be.
As the Pack had made it a command that members come home and stay within the wards to be safe unless needed elsewhere, it was getting a bit crowded. If what his brother Kameron, the Enforcer, said was true, it might get even more crowded soon. It seemed Washington had a bill on the table that would force those of non-human nature to remain behind the wards for the long term.
Caged.
Forgotten.
Ryder didn’t doubt that Kameron was right about those details, as it was his job as Enforcer to know about outside forces threatening the Pack. But that didn’t mean Ryder wanted to deal with the outcome. He would, though. As always.
He took a deep breath and froze.
Two spirits slid toward him, their eyes blank, but every once in a while they would blink and he would see the agony that lay beneath.
He’d seen these spirits before—had seen them when they were alive, as well. And, of course, he’d seen them when they died.
They were two of his uncles—the former Enforcer and Healer. Their Pack hadn’t had an Omega when his father was Alpha, and that was something unheard of for most Packs. Wolves could usually remain a healthy Pack without a Healer or Enforcer, but the Omegas were critical. The spirits of Uncle Reggie, the Healer, and Uncle Abraham, the Enforcer, stared at him, their mouths open, but no sound escaping.
They looked as if they were yelling, but he couldn’t hear a damn thing.
He never could with them.
They misted toward him, not walking, but not really gliding either. He couldn’t explain it, but it creeped him the hell out every time he saw it. At least, when Uncle Timothy appeared, he’d yell at Ryder, call him names, and actually announce his presence. Though, in reality, Ryder couldn’t see Timothy as he could the others.
Or maybe it was that his abusive uncle didn’t want Ryder to see him—just another form of torture and abuse.
It killed him each time he heard his uncle’s voice in his head. It wasn’t as if he could block it out or fully ignore it. His uncle would just get louder and scream until he finally acknowledged the bastard.
What made it all worse, was that the former Beta, Timothy, had treated all of Ryder’s siblings and cousins with respect. He’d acted as if he loved them and tried to care for the wounds inflicted by the other uncles.
Yet as soon as the curtains were drawn, he’d torture and beat Ryder until Ryder passed out from the pain. The other uncles had known what was going on. Through the bonds, they couldn’t hide it for long, even with how broken that hierarchy had been.
When they’d died, and Ryder and his siblings were burdened with the mantle instead, he hadn’t had the heart to tell the others that the one uncle who had shown them compassion was actually just as bad as the rest. If not worse.
So he’d hid his past from them, from everyone.