Page 43 of In Your Eyes
“I’m fine.” He stared at me. “Just fine.” He cleared his throat. “Are you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Something was clearly bothering him, so I smiled, trying to put him at ease. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
His body language didn’t match his assertion, but I let it go, figuring he’d explain what he needed soon enough. “Have a seat,” I said and then sat on the couch, rested my forearms on my knees, and waited for him to get settled.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked hesitantly. “You’re acting strange.”
“Strange?” I mentally reflected on my behavior over the previous couple of minutes, but nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary.
“Maybe not strange, exactly, but you’re not acting like yourself. You touched my back. You seem pleased to see me here even though I didn’t call first or make an appointment. You smiled.” He breathed out heavily. “Are you sure nothing’s going on?”
There was a time when I might have taken offense at that statement or become defensive, but I knew better. Walter was right. Only days earlier, I would have cringed if anyone had touched me, and yet I had touched him without a second thought. Smiling to put a pack member at ease had come instinctively, but it was unusual for me; Korban had said the same thing. But though I was behaving differently, I was still being myself—a better version of myself.
“A lot has happened these past few days,” I admitted, choosing my words carefully. I wanted to tell him about my mate, but I hadn’t yet charted out a plan for revealing the information. That announcement was too important to be tossed out without careful thought.
“Right. Yes.” He nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I heard from my son that there are issues with the tribute.”
“Issues?” I bit out, using every ounce of control I had to keep myself from flying into a rage at the way he referred to my mate as if he were a thing instead of a person.
“Yes.” He gulped and tensely said, “Did you kill him yet?”
Involuntarily, I growled deep in my chest, curled my lips to bare my teeth, and squeezed my fists so tightly my knuckles cracked. The mere mention of Korban being hurt would have been enough to ignite my fury; hearing his death referred to so nonchalantly was maddening. But the fault for his question lay at my feet—I was the one who had demanded retribution for my father’s murder.
Forcing myself to relax my shoulders and close my eyes, I let the anger pass as much as possible. When I was calm enough to treat my pack member well, I looked at him again.
“No,” I said. “Korban isn’t dead.”
If it was possible, Walter looked more uncomfortable. “Jason said Rick Collins tricked him into coming here and—” He cleared his throat and focused on a spot over my shoulder instead of looking me in the eyes. “He said the tribute—”
“Korban.”
Walter arched his eyebrows in question.
“His name is Korban Keller,” I said, pleased I’d managed to keep my voice free of anger. “And that’s right. Rick and Jason were here yesterday.” Assuming Walter had come to discuss his son’s injuries, I said, “They were wounded when Korban defended himself against their attack.”
“Theirattack?” Walter said incredulously.
“Yes. As you know, Korban was… contained.” I had locked him up in what essentially amounted to a shed, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. “There was no way for him to instigate what happened.”
“Of course not!” Walter snapped. He climbed to his feet and began pacing across the room. “That’s not what I meant. Jason admitted that Rick wanted to kill the tribute due to some ill-conceived notion it would make him Alpha of our pack. Jason went along with him because it was easier than saying no.” He paused midstep and looked at me. “I’ve already talked with my son about his poor decision-making and now I’m here to talk to you.”
I had made a lot of poor decisions where Korban was concerned, but the ones Walter knew about were my having demanded a tribute and then imprisoning him. The reason for that was my failure to think through the penalty the interpack council would have given Dirk once they learned about his actions. It was a foolish error on my part, and I wouldn’t hide from it.
“I made a mistake,” I said. “When I demanded retribution for my father’s death, I expected the council to deliver Dirk. I realize now that makes no sense, but—”
“No. That’s not why I’m here.” He shook his head. “Frankly, Samuel, I had no idea the interpack council could step in and investigate what happened, let alone require a pack to provide a blood tribute. Our entire pack was surprised and extremely impressed with the depth of your knowledge, particularly considering how upset you must have been by… what happened. Expecting to receive the Alpha your father met in the ring mere days earlier makes perfect sense.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, to tell him the risk of Dirk being removed from his position had been very real and I should have realized that. But he kept talking.
“Regardless, that isn’t why I’m here.”
“Oh.”
He licked his lips, sighed, and slowly walked toward me. “I’m not here to talk to my Alpha,” he said quietly. “I’m here to talk to my friend’s son because my friend no longer can.”
My chest clenched. I would have loved to have a conversation with my father. Any conversation. Even one where he treated me like a child.
