So I just stared at the pies, cakes, and cookies longingly as we continued on.
Finally we arrived at the main Pack house, but Gideon didn’t release me. Instead he led me down the main floor hallway. We stopped outside his door and he unlocked it, then pushed me inside.
I had never been in his office before.
It was paneled in dark wood. Floor to ceiling built-in shelves were filled with books and pale gold and ivory knickknacks. There were two large windows. The curtains pulled over them were sheer and muted the light so that everything appeared soft shadowy grey.
I heard the door close behind us with a click. I turned to see Gideon locking it.
I suddenly became acutely aware that I was alone with him in his lair.
Gideon crossed the room to his desk and propped one hip on it, looking at me.
“Do you know why I brought you here?” He asked after a long minute.
I shook my head, mutely.
“Then let’s go back a bit, shall we?” He crossed his arms and leaned back. “I saw what happened.”
“I know.” I dropped my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Gideon crossed the room and lifted my chin with his hand, so that I was staring at him.
“What am I going to do with you?” He said softly, gazing into my face. My heart fluttered. I didn’t know how to respond.
“Has no one ever told you what you are, Avery?” He asked.
I blinked at him. All I could think about were the names Jessica had used. People had been calling me those for years. That was nothing new.
“All the time.” I said, bitterness creeping into my voice.
Gideon let go of me and strode behind his desk. He threw himself into his chair and stared at me.
“No.” He said, “I don’t mean the petty insults of those who only know how to whine.” There was iron in his expression.
“Do you know what sets a wolf apart as a leader? Why we call some people Alpha, when others cannot ever hope to wield that power?”
I squinted, trying to follow the drift of the conversation.
“It’s because of will, Avery.” Gideon leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “The ability to shape the world into what you need it to be. Complaints, insults, criticisms, they mean nothing when they’re coming from those who only know how to poke at others.”
His voice dropped lower as he tilted his chin down, fixing me with his gaze.
“Those who lead will always be those that others hate. They hate us because we can do what they cannot. Not because we’re always right, or even always capable, but because we are willing to try, when they will always be too atraid.”
He rose again and stepped towards me.
“Are you afraid, Avery?”
I thought about it.
“Yes.” I admitted. Gideon smiled, and it softened his face to a surprising degree.
“Yes. You are.” He seemed pleased. He reached out and placed his hand on my head, smoothing my tousled hair.
“And you should be.” His fingers twisted in my hair, adding gentle pressure. It felt surprisingly good and my eyes half closed at the contact, but there was pain in it as well.
“But even when you’re afraid, you still keep going.”
“I don’t have any choice.” I whispered, eyes closing.
“No.” Gideon’s voice was soft but stern, “You don’t.”
Avery’s POV
Gideon’s fingers twisted in my hair, pulling me upright. My head tipped back, exposing my throat.
“Now,” Gideon leaned closer. I could feel his breath on my cheek, “Let’s talk about punishment.”
I didn’t like where this was going. I tried to look him in the face, the whites of my eyes showing, but he pulled harder and I couldn’t look at him properly from this angle.
“What is the role of violence in a pack?” He asked.
I struggled to think of an answer. Violence had always been something that came to me by virtue of who I was, not what I’d done.
My father had reached for violence the way others reached for a cigarette. He craved it, and it soothed him.
My violence had always been a defense mechanism. Something I used when all my other options were gone.
Did Gideon want me to fight him? I struggled feebly and his hands tightened until I stopped.
“A tool, Avery.” He continued, in the same patient voice. “A poor tool in the hands of a fool, but a deadly one regardless. You’re not a fool, are you?”
“I try not to be.” I ground out through gritted teeth. My scalp was starting to ache and I had to stand on tiptoe to try and relieve the pressure.
“Good. Because I won’t marry a fool.”
“Jessica will be disappointed.”
He laughed and released me.
“Yes, I expect she will be.”
I rubbed my head ruefully and watched him as he circled back around his desk. He began rummaging through drawers.
“So…you’re not punishing me?”
He looked up with a small smirk, “Do you want me to?”
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