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But that wouldn’t happen now, and possibly not ever.
Some hurts transcended lifetimes.
I hung my head. Without someone nearby to focus my rage, my loathing and thoughts continued to turn inward.
Her shy smile ran through my thoughts. The way she chewed on her lip as she looked through her phone. I loved that she’d wear the clothes that she knew I liked. I loved that she genuinely enjoyed those things. Her hair was especially fascinating—untamed curls that reached her waist. At first glance, it was chestnut—a lovely color in itself, but my senses were better than most. When the sunlight hit her hair in any direction, flashes of strawberry blond and fiery red peeked through the waves.
Then there was also the way her eyes changed hue with her emotions, flickering between spring grass and the summer sky. Sometimes there'd even be a hint of gray, like the horizon before a storm.
Then there was the way she’d look at me, shyly, but with a hint of challenge. No woman had ever tried to hurt me before.
Although, to be fair, she hadn’t exactly tried. Shedidhurt me. My face and balls still stung in the memory of her aggression.
Did she fight back? My blood coursed at the thought.
Probably.
Bianca might look small and fragile—and she was compared to me—but she was a fierce force in her own right. I hoped she was able to hurt someone. I hoped she didn’t suffer too much.
But I knew shifters. Wolves and hyenas were the most violent of our kind. The hyena worked for me only because they submitted to Ada’s influence.
Wolves, however, were harder to control, even for me.
Generally speaking, they submitted to their Alphas. I had to work to overcome that bond in some cases. Rogues were easier to recruit, but also more dangerous. Wolves needed order and structure, and rogues were that way for a reason. Usually, they were men and women who fell outside of the normal rage of society or who had personal issues with authority.
There was only one rogue I trusted around Bianca, but Gloria Protean’s qualifications were unique.
I didn’t want to imagine what Bianca might have gone through, but the possibilities invaded my thoughts anyway.
The light flickered once more, and my legs gave out. My shoulders were already aching, and now, with the added weight of my body, were strained beyond compare. But it didn’t matter anymore, nothing did. This wasn’t the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last, that I failed her. But that didn’t make it any easier to handle the guilt.
