Page 80 of Black Moon

I almost got lost on my way to the view. Had it really been that long since I’d properly explored the valley? If I were honest with myself, which I often tried not to be, I’d been avoiding it because it wasn’t the same without Aspen.

Because Aspen leaving had been so fucking awful.

For so many years, he’d been my best friend. My closest sibling in heart and mind as well as body. I’d been prepared to have him as my alpha. I’d have followed him into hell.

But then I’d gotten home from school and he’d been gone. All the hiking and camping and fishing I’d always done with him had been too painful to contemplate, let alone continue on with.

I had to double back once to find the right path to the view, but I caught the branch in the trail the second time.

My hunch was confirmed when I got farther out and caught a whiff of Brook’s scent, fresh and painful, like an open wound. Like a punch in the stomach.

Like what I’d do to Aspen if I ever damn well saw him again.

Brook must have heard Ginger and I crashing through the woods from half a mile away, because he didn’t budge as we came over the rise and found him sitting on the boulder that overlooked town.

He was curled up in the smallest ball possible, knees drawn up to his chest and chin tucked on top of them. He’d never been one of those tiny, dainty omegas—one of Aspen’s favorite things about him, I thought—but now he looked like he was.

Or maybe it wasn’t that, so much as...fragile.

He looked fragile.

And wouldn’t that thought have pissed off a teenage Brook?

I pulled out my phone, and as quietly as possible, texted Claudia. “Found him. Needs space, I think. Call off the cavalry?” Then I turned off my ringer and slid my phone back into my pocket.

I didn’t say a word as I joined Brook on the boulder. I kept a bit of distance, in case he didn’t want to be touched, but stayed close enough for him to grab if he wanted to.

After a long, silent moment, he sighed gustily. “Everyone freaking out?”

“A little,” I agreed, keeping my tone light.

“’M sorry,” he mumbled into his knees, staring at them instead of the whole town laid out before him, all tiny trees and buildings, so far away that they looked like miniature replicas in a train set instead of the real thing. “Didn’t mean to scare everyone again.”

Ginger, who had been shockingly respectful of his space up till that point, decided now was her moment, and danced over in front of Brook, wiggling like he was the most exciting thing that had happened in her life since the time Rowan had dropped a steak on the floor. She didn’t jump right on him, just danced around, getting as close as possible without being the first to make contact.

When he gave in and stuck his hand out, though, it was all over. She almost bowled him over as she moved in, licking his hand, then his arm, and within three seconds of the first move, she was lapping at his face. Brook made a valiant effort to hold her off—okay, not really—and finally made a sound like a combination of laughter and gut-wrenching sobs as he gave in and threw his arms around her, hugging her tight against him.

We sat there like that for what felt like an hour, me in awkward unmoving silence, and Brook crying into Ginger’s neck. She was a champ and just stayed there with him, licking his face and cuddling.

I’d have to get her a steak on purpose.

“It’s a lot,” Brook finally whispered. “I know, I’m supposed to be home and reassure everyone I’m fine and—”

“Bullshit,” I said, going with my gut reaction rather than a sensible, measured one. “You don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t owe us being fine, Brook. You’re not fine, and as much as I hate that, you’re allowed to be what you are. We love you as you are.”

“I got the alpha killed.”

Considering my own massive guilt complex surrounding my father’s death, I couldn’t begrudge him one of his own. Still, I had to try to blunt it if I could. “You didn’t. I understand how you feel. I feel like I failed as a doctor, and that’s why he’s dead. I feel like he didn’t take the Reids seriously enough, so it’s his fault. Like Aspen should have been here to help him, so it’s his fault. But in the end, the only person responsible for Dad’s death is the one who killed him. No one in the pack, Dad least of all, would have blamed you.”

His shoulders trembled for a moment, eyes squeezed shut around fat tears that refused to be held back. When he finally spoke again, his voice was raspy. “Do you—do you think Aspen would even want me anymore?”

For a full second, all I could see was red.

My fucking useless brother. This was all his fault. If he’d been here. If he hadn’t run away like a goddamned coward, abandoning all of us, especially Brook—

But no.

Even if it was true—and it probably wasn’t—that wasn’t what Brook needed. My anger for my brother wasn’t going to help him. I tried to hold it back as much as possible, stifling my rage, trying to keep it out of my scent as I reached out and put my hand on his. Instantly, he turned his own and gripped mine tight, squeezing the bones together.

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