The Agony
#Chapter70 The Agony
Impulsively I slide from my chair and mirror his pose on the floor in front of him, so our knees touch and we sit face to face. My hand sliding to cover his thigh, and I lean in, heart exploding with the need to console him. My own mind racing with many thoughts and reasons and explanations and seeing not a strong dominant alpha before me, but a scared young boy who wants to let go of the choices that are too hard for him to make on his own. In so many ways, he's still that eight—year—old kid who went from joyous ceremonial turning, to battle worn warrior in the space of a year.