Chapter 107

Olivia

The echo of the slamming door lingered in the silent night as Nathan and I walked away from Alvin’s house. A sorrowful hush had descended over the town, as if it, too, mourned the loss of the old Alvin.

Our short, bitter walk home was filled with a silence so thick that I could have cut it with a knife. That silence was only punctuated by my own stifled sobs and the sounds of our shoes slapping against the sidewalk.

Back home, I couldn't get Alvin’s hurt and confused face out of my mind.

As soon as we stepped through the door, it was as though a dam had burst within me. My feelings, my thoughts, all came pouring out; I couldn’t keep them in anymore. The tears began to flow more freely now, and all Nathan could do was guide me to a chair.

A few minutes later, a cup of hot cocoa was pressed into my shaking hands.

Nathan and I sat in silence at the kitchen counter for a long time. The cup of hot cocoa remained firmly grasped in my hands, untouched. The warm light from the old chandelier above the table did little to dispel the cold emptiness that I felt inside of me.

“Alvin needs our help, Nathan,” I insisted, my gaze fixed on the dark liquid in front of me.

Nathan sighed, a weary sound escaping his lips. “Olivia, I’ve already told you. Alvin's beyond saving. He’s different now. His time in the military... you saw how aggressive he's become. He could turn rogue.”

“Is that what we do now, Nathan? Abandon our friends when they need us the most?”

I looked at him, my eyes stinging. His words felt like a betrayal, but I tried to understand where he was coming from.

He shook his head, his eyes meeting mine. “That's not what I mean, Olivia. I’m just saying we should be careful. Alvin is dangerous now, and I don’t want you to get hurt. You saw that tonight.”

I frowned. “I saw you hit him tonight when I knew that he wouldn’t have hurt us,” I glowered.

Nathan’s face darkened.

“You don’t know anything, Olivia,” he replied coldly. “You’ve been gone for ten years. Things change. People change. Alvin is traumatized and dangerous, and you’re lucky that I hit him tonight before he really hurt you.”

“I know my own friends,” I retorted. “I know that Alvin would never want to hurt anyone, especially not me…”

Nathan shook his head and let out a wry chuckle. “What will it take for you to understand?” he murmured. “This is not the same Alvin who we knew as kids. He’s different now. That Alvin that you remember… That version of him died on the battlefield. All you see now is a husk.”

“And so because of that, we should just let the Alpha Council decide his fate, then?” I spat out, my voice cold. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nathan. He needs us. Not the goddamn Alpha Council.”

“Maybe turning him in to the Council is the absolutely best thing that we could do. They have dealt with situations like this before.”

Nathan’s words, measured and calm, sparked a fury within me.

I remembered my father and what the Council, what Nathan’s father, had done to him. No, I wouldn’t let the same thing happen to Alvin.

“No,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. “I don’t want Alvin to die.”

Nathan looked taken aback. “Liv, now that we know it’s not a real monster, but Alvin, a member of our pack, maybe the Council will help him.”

I shook my head, the image of my father's fate replaying in my mind.

“You know how cruel your father can be, Nathan. He wouldn't hesitate to kill Alvin. He’ll only see Alvin as a threat, not a member of our pack who really needs help. Not if we can’t prove for certain that Alvin is going to get better.”

“No, he wouldn’t…” Nathan began, but I cut him off.

“Like he evicted my father, you mean?” I shot back, the tears now rolling down my cheeks. “What was that then, Nathan? Don’t tell me that that wasn’t cruel, because you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My voice was thick with saliva and tears. Nathan fell silent. The memory of my father’s death, a death which could have been prevented if he had been home in his own pack and not forced to perform manual labor until his body gave out, was a wound that hadn't quite healed.

It likely never would heal. Nathan knew that.

We sat in silence, the air between us heavy with unsaid words and shared sorrow. Finally, Nathan broke the silence.

“Alright, Liv,” he sighed. “I won’t go to the Alpha Council. But we should at least give Alvin his space. That's what he asked for, isn't it? Just leave him alone and stop trying to remedy this hopeless situation. Maybe, at the very least, we can drive him out of town so the Council—”

Suddenly, I stood, pushing my chair back so abruptly that the sound of the feet scraping against the tile floor echoed through the silent house.

“You would drive your own friend out of town?” I growled in a state of abject disbelief. “How the hell do you think that would help anything?”

Nathan’s lips pressed themselves into a thin line. “It would save him from being euthanized, Olivia,” he snarled. “Or are you so self-righteous and concerned about your own guilt and your own feelings that you’d rather see him be euthanized than leave this place?”

Nathan’s words struck me to my core.

For a long time, we stayed there—I stood in front of Nathan, glaring down at him, and he sat at the table staring up at me—in silence.

The house began to feel rather small, like a coffin that was being piled high with dirt. Soon, the ceilings would collapse and we would be buried alive, just like Alvin in his dirty, lonely little house.

“Maybe I am self-righteous and overly concerned about my own feelings,” I murmured, my hands clenching themselves into fists at my sides. “But he’s still our friend, Nathan. You can’t deny that.”

Nathan swallowed, took in a deep breath, and stared down at the table.

“I know that,” he said quietly. “But he can’t stay here. And we can’t ‘fix’ him because there’s nothing left to fix. I’ll do my best to throw the Council off of his trail, but that’s all that I can do. And when he eventually goes completely rogue and kills someone during a rampage, then the blood can be on both of our hands.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It won’t come to that, not so long as we help him. And I'm not like you, Nathan. I can’t just stand by and watch my friends suffer alone. We have to do more than this, and if you won’t… Then I’ll do it alone.”

Nathan stared up at me for a long time, a combination of anger and disbelief etched across his face. Finally, he stood, and walked over to the kitchen window to peer out again.

“Fine,” he said, his voice low and full of anger. “Do you want the truth?”