Bad Love: An Alpha's Regret (Leah and Aaron)

Chapter 109

When I open my eyes, Aaron is carrying me.

He shoulders open the door to his room and puts me down on

the bed.

I'm still mostly asleep so when he slides off my shoes and unbuttons my pants, I'm slow to react. When he draws them down, the letters from my dad spill onto the mattress. "Were you carrying those the whole time?"

I'm wide awake now. "Yes. It's partly why I was sweating so

much with the Council members."

"Have you read them?" Aaron asks.

"Not yet."

"I'll leave you to it then," he says

I wasn't expecting that. I thought I'd have to demand some

privacy.

"Thanks."

He nods and closes the door behind him.

The sheets are cool and smell like him. His pillows are fluffy

and I stack them behind me. Then I cross my legs and open the first letter.

Dear Leah,

You're leaving today. I'm still not sure I made the right

decision and part of me

knows your mama would skin me alive for what I'm doing,

but I don't see another alternative. We're losing wolves at an

alarming rate. We're killing a great number of Rathborn pack

too, but this is a matter of wills. He proposed it on a dare, thinking I'd never give you up. And I don't want to.

The very thought of it ki Ils me.

But if I don't, more packmates will di e.

I doubt you'll ever understand how hard this decision was to

make, and I pray

when you have pups of your own, you do a better job of it

than me.

I love you. If you remember nothing else, remember that. And please, try to forgive me.

My hands shake and I set the note aside.

Can I really handle ten more of these?

I take a deep breath and then another.

The door opens. It's Aaron in his true form.

His wolf tilts his head.

I move the pillow next to me out of the way, and it's all the

invitation he needs.

The big beast bounds into the room and up on the bed. He curls up right next to me, dropping his head in my lap.

A therapy dog that's a couple hundred pounds and with ferocious teeth.

I stroke his soft fur. "Thanks bud."

He doesn't say anything. Just nuzzles closer.

I open the second letter.

Dear Leah,

You've called and sent letters and I haven't replied. It's not that I don't want to, but I can't bear to hear you cry. You've begged to come home and just knowing that you are trapped-because of me-fills me with guilt that I can't get past. I can't break the treaty without rekindling this war, and I know that sounds awful, but I had to make a choice. A hard one. For the good of our pack.

A father should never have to sacrifice his daughter.

Maybe it'd be better if I just turned the pack over to him. But given all the bad blood, I can't believe that he'd show mercy.

You're fourteen today.

I hope that things get better. I hope that if you can let go of your old life that you can embrace your new one.

I love you. If you remember nothing else, remember that. And please, try to

forgive me.

And so the notes go.

Guilt. A profession of love. And a plea for forgiveness.

I stop at sixteen.

I don't want to read anymore.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Something deeper, maybe? Something that showed more love and less of an "oops, sorry you were the sacrifice, but, hey, it had to happen."

The worst part... at thirteen, I'd wanted so badly to help. To fight. To contribute to my pack in some way, if my dad had just talked to me, he wouldn't have had to apologize.

He wouldn't have had to throw me away to his enemy.

Du mb girl that I'd been, I would've volunteered.