Page 65 of Her Second-Hand Mate

Vera smirked, not fooled by my diversion, but let it go to ask, “What is annoying?”

“It feels like that is all she’s willing to give me, all we’ll ever be. Great parents, wolves who get along nicely, perfectly kind and fine and interesting company in the evenings, but there is no more yearning in her eyes and no more warmth. I don’t even know what she’s feeling,” I finished lamely.

Both Vera and I knew I only had myself to blame, and we’d discussed thatad nauseamalready.

“Have you had time to sort throughyourfeelings about your Luna’s new attitude towards you?”

“I got nothing but time to sort through them, Doc. Every night alone in my bed, that’s all I do.”

“What are some of the most prominent ones?”

“Sadness and remorse, definitely. A lot of shame. But lately, I’ve been feeling proud of her, as weird as it sounds.”

“Why exactly?”

“Knowing what I know now, after talking to you about her family dynamics, her father’s treatment of her, how she sees herself and her worth, I’m proud she managed to stand up to me, to find her own path.”

“Those are admirable accomplishments, I must agree.”

“I just wish she’d read the letters already.”

“Be careful, Alpha. First of all, don’t push her during this time – postpartum is the most sensitive time in a female’s life. Let her do things at her own pace. Right now, she’s completely focused on Gabriel, which is how it should be since he’s only 6 weeks old. But another thing you need to be careful about is the notion that all will be forgiven once she reads the letters.”

“She’ll at least know that I had good reason for acting the way I did.”

“Reason or not, you still hurt her. If you hit someone accidentally with your car, repeatedly telling them that you didn’t mean to do it wouldn’t make it hurt less. And, if we’re being honest, youdidmean to do it, you wanted to push her away.”

I started squeezing my eyes shut while the damn female continued berating me like she was my mother. I’d been giventhe impression that therapists were supposed to let you come to your own conclusions.

“I’ve noticed you always do that,” she said, and I opened my eyes to look at her askance. “You squeeze your eyes shut and clench your fists whenever a bad memory comes up, like you’re trying to ward them off.”

I hadn’t noticed, but she wasn’t wrong.

“Have you ever tried letting the memories come, letting them wash over you?”

I looked away from her and focused on a spot on the carpet.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“I want you to tell me.”

I unclenched my jaw experimentally to see whether it was still functional after the abuse I put it through.

“They hurt, the memories. And the pain makes me feel weak. I’m an Alpha, I’m supposed to be stronger than everyone else in the pack.”

“And you are, physically. I’d argue even emotionally, based on everything you’ve gone through and made it through quite sane. But you expect perfection of yourself, absolute untouchable strength. You must know that’s unrealistic?”

I didn’t.

“Dominic, you need to sit with the pain. You need to let yourself acknowledge and honor that pup whose Alpha and father had just died and whose mother was half mad with grief and unable to feed herself, let alone him,” she said softly, and I didn’t close my eyes this time, but I didn’t look at her either.

“Shut up,” I managed to say around my now extended canines, but Vera seemed unperturbed.

“Until you acknowledge and comfort that pup, you’ll always revert to his scared self when you’re faced with an emotional crisis.”

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