anything back.
I wasn't sure she even knew how, but that didn't mean she didn't want it. So I would listen to her. I'd hold her, talk to her, and everything else. Again, my fingers slipped through her hair, but Elena's eyes stayed locked on a spot of the comforter before her as she tried to find an answer to my question.
Eventually, she looked up at me. "I want to be strong, Lane. I'm so tired of needing to be saved. I don't want to be that spineless woman who can't do anything for herself. I'm trying to raise Gabby to be independent, but the problem is that I don't know how."
"What does that have to do with being a wolf?" I asked.
"You're all strong," she said. "If I'd been a wolf, I never would've had to worry about Karen. Her trying to bite me wouldn't have been a threat. I could've fought my own fights."
"Not really," I countered. "She's natural-born. You would've known your body a few months at best. She'd move faster, be more agile, and know exactly how to hurt you. Elena, if you'd been challenged by Karen as a wolf, you would've lost, and then we would've lost you."
"But Roman fought her off!" she pointed out.
I nodded slowly. "A boy who's been a wolf for sixteen years. He's run on every full moon since he was old enough to keep up. He's played with his family and friends, wrestling in that body. He also had his ass kicked in the process. His mother stepped in, and his girlfriend, and even Olivia. He did not fight her off on his own, and he's always been a wolf."
She just bent over her knees, shoving her face into her hands. "How am I supposed to deal with this?"
"You," I said softly, moving a little closer so I could wrap my arm around her back, "are doing just fine. You were exactly what those kids needed today. You were the comfort they required, making them feel loved and safe. That is important, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
"But it's not being strong," she mumbled.
I reached between her hands to hook her chin, then I made her look at me. "It is," I countered. "I think that's what you don't understand. Strength? It's not about being the biggest asshole in the group. It's not about having the best or fastest comeback. It's not about being stupid, Elena. Rushing into a situation to make things worse? That's not strong. That's impulsive, and can get people hurt."
She lightly bit her bottom lip, clearly mulling that over. "Then why do I always feel like the biggest pushover?"
"Because when you put everyone else's needs above your own, it means you're putting yourself last. It means you're never getting what you need. It's nice, but it's also not the only way to be nice." I leaned in to kiss her brow. "Being strong is when you're true to yourself. Nothing more. It means getting back up when you're knocked down - either literally or otherwise. It's accepting that losing isn't the end of the world, and that winning doesn't make you special. Elena, being strong? It's a woman leaving her husband with no clue of what comes next because she won't lie to herself."
"But that wasn't strong," she insisted.
I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I happen to disagree. I think you've done a lot of strong things. I think that sometimes you fall back on this idea of being weak, though, because it's easier. Like allowing me to stay the night for my needs instead of yours."
She just leaned into me, pressing her face against my chest. Without thinking, I moved my arms to hold her close, bending to kiss the top of her head. I loved that she wanted me to hold her. I hated that she needed to be held, though, because my woman deserved better. I just didn't know how to make it possible. I had no idea how to fix this for her except to convince her that she was already strong. What she was didn't matter nearly as much as who she was.
"Elena," I said, "I want you to be a wolf. I do, so don't think I'm trying to talk you out of it. I love the idea of running through the woods with you, of curling up around you in that body the way I can only do in this one, and of watching you learn how to