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“I did this,” he says. It’s almost monotonous. Almost heartless. If you didn’t know better, you’d believe he didn’t care about it at all. But you do. You know him, and you know he’s hiding behind a mask of apathy. “I did this.” The mask breaks, and so does his voice. “It’s my fault.”
“Hey,” you say, softly. His hand is still on your back, tracing the four silvery scars that run down from your left shoulder to your hipbone. His touch is so tender that you can barely feel it. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he growls, quite literally. He must have dropped his fangs. “I did this, and it’s not okay. It’s wrong.”
“You weren’t yourself.”
“That’s not an excuse!” He pulls away and you turn around. He’s pacing, growling, roughly running a hand through his hair. His eyes flash red as he looks at you, and you instinctively bare your throat.
A moment of silence.
“No, don’t—ah, damn it.” He sounds pained. “I’m sorry. Look at me, please.”
You do so, and you’re glad to see that he looks a little calmer. He grimaces, contrite.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. I should’ve protected you better. I never told you—I should’ve. If it wasn’t for you, I could have… I could’ve killed people. The Alpha power was too strong for me, it gave me a rush and it, it overwhelmed me.”
“That’s what I—”
“No. No, that’s an explanation, but it’s still not a valid excuse. You’re pack. You’re mine. My beta, my love. I should’ve known better. I should’ve been able to resist the pull.”
You sigh, feeling fondness and exasperation and warmth at this werewolf disaster you’ve decided to follow to the end of the world. The person you love.
“You shouldn’t think too much about should haves,” you say. “Nothing will change if you do, and the only thing you’ll accomplish is making yourself miserable. I’ve forgiven you. The wounds scarred, yes, and they took a little longer to heal because you’re an Alpha now, but I don’t mind them. They don’t hurt, they don’t bother me. So, please, stop agonizing over them.”
He looks conflicted, but after a couple of minutes his shoulders drop and his overall posture becomes more relaxed, more like the deceitfully unguarded predatory pose he usually adopts.
He sighs. “All right, if you insist.”
“I very much do.”
He snorts. “Cheeky.”
Your grin is unrepentant as you balance back and forth on the balls of your feet and tuck away a strand of hair behind your ear. “Me? Nah. You’re imagining things, my dear Alpha.”
He smiles, finally.
Victory.
“Come here, you little menace.”
You willingly go, and he brings you close enough to kiss the tip of your nose. It’s you the one who growls now, though it’s mostly in playful annoyance. He laughs, and then kisses you properly on the mouth. You melt.