“I wish this could be different,” he says, emotionless behind me after the door closes. It’s faint, but I can hear it.
Sitting behind my desk, I focus on the things that I need to be thankful for: my family, my career, my life. I could be dead, and that would be it. Try to focus on the positive.
I manage to get through my day, keeping my door closed after my females leave. I stay closed up inside until I know he has left for the day. That’s when I emerge slowly, dragging my feet.
The walk home takes double the time that it took me this morning.
Walking into my room, I lay down on my bed, letting my pillowcase soak up all my sorrow.
My tears sanitize my clouding mind, cleansing my soul.
Crying is not a bad thing, as Aurora says, so when you have that need to cry…cry.
The floodgates to my heart are open, and screams of frustration are muffled by my pillow. Once nothing is left, rage starts creeping in on its hands and knees, slowly slithering inside of me.
How dare he! All these years of suffering just to come back here and find something small and maybe special, and he has to ruin it. This is how obituaries are made.
The car ride is quick to his home, faster than I have driven in a long time.
I pound on the pack house door. My fist seems like it could go clear through if I let it.
Luna Catherine opens the door, regarding me up and down with an apple in her hand. A sly smile is on her face.
“Where is your son?” My voice shakes in fury, my madness hardly contained. I feel like a tornado twisting on an irrational path ready to tear up this place.
Her teeth flash in warning to settle down.
“He’s out back speaking with Kennedy.” She smiles a wolf’s smile, and I have to look closely to see if her tongue is forked behind the canines that flash. She takes a bite of her apple, and its crispness makes a crunching sound, a small spray of juice squirting out. I feel such darkness overcoming me that, in a fleeting thought, I think I can take the Luna on. A low rumble tumbles out of her chest as if she can read my mind.
She opens the door wider for me to come into their den. Not her office, she leads me into their personal space, where usually no pack members get to go.
Kimberly is curled up on the couch, sleeping like a little girl taking a nap after a busy morning. She looks so peaceful. Part of me wants to be quiet so she can get the rest that her body needs to incubate a life.
I look around at the walls. They are filled with family pictures of all of them.
A small picture sits on the coffee table of Clayton and Kennedy smiling into the camera, faces all muddy, toothless in bathing suits, playing in a puddle. A moment captured by a mother who thought how adorable they are.
The fireplace mantle is covered in memories. I have no place in this life. I can’t help but stare at everything. His life has no space for me.
She brings me to the window that looks out over the back lawn. I see them there by the apple tree; she’s crying in his arms, her body shaking so fiercely with sobs that he needs to hold her to his chest. His lips are on her head, his hands trying to wipe away the tears. He tries to push her slightly away from him, only for her to grab onto his shirt, pulling herself back into him. She’s telling him something, fists on his chest pounding at him.
I feel like I could break her fingers so she couldn’t touch what belongs to me. In this moment, my rage leaves with that thought. Dallas is right. He would be my lie if I can’t stop thinking that Clayton belongs to me. I wish I could stop my hands from shaking when I see them together.
Another crunch from the apple turns my head the Luna’s way. She’s standing beside me watching the show, eating her apple. I hope she bites into a big fat worm so she can taste foulness on her tongue instead of the happiness I’m smelling from what she’s seeing.
Kennedy’s falling down now on her knees, holding onto his legs, her head bowed, pressing against his shins, words tumbling out of her mouth that I can’t hear. His hand is on her head, running through her hair, trying to calm her with touch.
His eyes are closed, his chest heaving up and down. Bruises are all over his face, and his neck looks like someone went for a kill and missed just slightly. It’s healing well. Within a day, it should be gone, like the fight between two males never happened.
Emerald orbs focus entirely on me, lighting my skin on fire, his dirty blond hair messy in the front, as if he were trying to pull his own hair out. His eyes are red and puffy; they match my own.
I’m looking like some gawker at a horrible car crash scene. I just can’t look away. This is a very private moment between the two of them, and I am witnessing it.
She’s pounding the ground at his feet. The creature is completely broken. He takes a position to stand in front of her, shielding her from our view. Protecting her from our intrusive eyes. He sinks down on his knees, picking her up like a newborn. A gentle rocking as her head lays against his chest. Rotten apples in various stages of decay litter the ground. Can they smell the rot that’s festering around them?
“I want a transfer out.” I still can’t let my eyes leave them, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Luna.
“No, we won’t grant you a transfer. You’re ours, and we won’t give you away to another pack.” She takes another bite of the apple. How sweet is it on her tongue, the apple or the present circumstances?
“I won’t stay.”
“You will stay. There’s nowhere for you to go.” A faint hint of sadness is in her voice. “This is where you belong.”
He’s still rocking her, cooing into her ear. He smoothes her hair down, his back still turned our way.
“This is your chance, Rya. You need to take it. Fight for him.” She’s trying to offer me advice that I don’t want.
“I tried to fight for him once. I have the scars to prove it.” It’s then that Kennedy’s head lifts up, and our eyes connect. She looks exactly how I looked all those years ago. Pulling away from his grip, she stands to take a step toward the house. She staggers slightly before righting herself. Canines descending, claws coming out of her fingertips, her rage is potently directed at me. The darkness is swirling in those black irises. Her resolve is to take out the competition.
I can hear her yelling now, her voice raised in anger.
“How dare she come to our home!” She’s looking at me like I’m the other female. That I came knocking on their door to destroy her world.
In this moment, I do feel like the other woman, his dirty little secret that’s just coming out now. Except everyone has always known I am his except them.
With each step, skin is giving way to fur. The hair along the ridge of her spine is raised, hackles up. She’s stiff legged, posturing jaws snapping open and shut. Teeth bared, waiting to sink into my flesh. She’s issuing a challenge to me. My nature is gripping me, wanting to tear into the throat of life, spill her blood once and for all, get rid of my competition, this complication.
Clayton looks on. A hand grips the scruff of her neck as she tries to clamp onto his hand with sharp teeth. Her wolf is insane with a need to fight. He’s restraining her in a tight grip. His body wraps around her dense form, trying to subdue the wolf. Places are switching. It’s his turn now to restrain his moon from his mate.
“Leave,” he says to me, looking straight in my eyes. “You shouldn’t be here.” His words hold disgust, as if I’m the catalyst for everything that I’m witnessing. That I am to blame for all this. He looks at me with such outward contempt that I take a step back. In this moment, all I can see is pure, unfiltered loathing from the both of them.
Breathe.
“Leave now!” Kimberly is stirring awake on the couch, eyes opening lazily, a stretch so her little belly sticks out of her shirt. She has a confused look in her eyes that I am in their home.
I look around at everything in this room. My pictures would never feel right in a room that belongs to them. I would never really be able to get her smell
out of this place. Out of him.
The wolf that Clayton holds tries to break free, to fight for what she wants. Agony is on his face. She’s in his bones, he might not be able to hold her mark, but she has branded his soul. They have greedily invaded and gorged themselves full on their love for each other. The legacy that they are making is a forked tongue trail. They have no one to blame but themselves.
She can have him.
He’s not worth my fight.
Chapter 10
Let The Pain Begin
The first north wind started up late last night, screaming its way through the trees. It has brought a slight frost to the area this morning that should be melted soon. The wind is cold, blowing up my sleeves and nipping at my skin. Outside, the trees sway in a certain rhythm with the gusts of air. Maybe tonight I might have my first fire in my house. I think I will celebrate and get take out for the occasion.
Starting a little later today than usual, I walk into the clinic. Aurora is there, and the place is packed, filled with mothers and their sick pups: runny noses, coughs, sore throats, and ears. All the little ones look miserable as they lay their heads on their parents’ laps or shoulders, coughing and whining.
Dr. Valentine will be busy for most of the day; those poor pups are so susceptible to infections. They are just like human children until they shift. That’s why the packs will fight for physicians and recruit them with massive incentives and perks. I wonder what they offered him to come here?
At least these last five days have been quiet with everyone leaving me alone. Not even the lurker made an appearance to my home. He kept away, probably to provide comfort and care to his moon. The thought disturbs me, but it is not as bad as it used to be. I can deal with it much better. I can maybe really for once in all these years just shrug the feeling off.
I can tell Dr. Valentine is in one of the small clinic rooms from the muffled voice behind the door. His smile is still contagious even though it’s not turned my way. I catch him out of the side of my eye, laughing as he comes out of a room with a small pup, whose eyes look all glassy and cheeks of red fire. He has his hand on the mother’s shoulder, smiling at her about something. I just stand there watching for just a second too long before his eyes find mine. Every time he catches me watching him, I feel he must think I’m stalkerish.
“Good morning, Rya.” Our dialogue is kept painfully simple.
“Good morning, Dr. Valentine.” He goes into another small room where a patient is waiting for him, not even pausing for the words to come out of my mouth.
It’s like he closed the curtains on us, the production that barely even started. Our story just stopped before it really had a chance to begin.
Putting my bag down on my desk, I take a seat. My cheeks are flushed from seeing him; I’m still so very fond of his face. I just can’t shut my emotions off. Even though he told me that we should keep it professional, I just can’t help fantasizing about him and that kiss.
Friday, everyone is excited for the weekend, and I decided that I’m painting my bedroom. The color? Agreeable grey. The lady at the paint shop convinced me to buy it. I also bought this beautiful duvet. It’s really a big fluffy cloud, a cocoon I don’t want to get out of in the morning. The cover for it is pomegranate red; the lady at the bedding store said it suited me.
My Friday is a very quick half day; Dr. Valentine’s in and out of rooms. I keep my door open. I can’t resist attempting to catch glimpses of his face. I can see the lines in his forehead, how he gives the prescriptions to the mothers. The stubble on his jaw from at least six days’ worth of growth, the slant of his shoulders, the way the top button on his collar is undone because it’s becoming too tight around his neck. For the smallest fraction of a second, I can see his eyes as they touch mine before he turns away.
My last appointment is Kimberly, who’s chewing gum, looking like such a small juvenile. No older than me when I first shifted. She still doesn’t have her adult features yet. Her hips are still so narrow; she needs more meat on her bones. This is going to be extremely hard on her.
“Come in, Kimberly.” I smile easily to her, not showing any teeth, trying to calm her nerves down. I put my hand on her shoulder, a little rub of comfort.
The door to the clinic opens, and Clayton walks in. He’s looking right at me. He takes my breath away…he will always take my breath away. It’s what the moon wants, and he will always do that to me.
Quickly leading her into the examining room, I shut the door tight.
“Sorry about him coming. My mom’s gone with Kennedy, and Dad had this meeting this morning. I don’t drive yet, so he brought me.” She’s staring at the pictures I have put up with those newborn faces.
“That’s all right, Kimberly. Nothing to apologize for.” I try my best to sound believable.
“Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” She climbs up on the table, pulling her shirt up to expose the slight protrusion of her belly. Her hand naturally starts to rub her tummy as all future mothers do. Taking her measurements, I notice that she’s falling shy of what should be her normal progression. With such a young age, this is the first warning sign that something is off.
“Kimberly, are you eating at least five meals a day?”
She looks away from me, guilty. “Yes.”
“Lie! Don’t lie to me, Kimberly.” Looking right in her eyes, I demand the truth. She sucks in a breath, staring at my eyes. Her hand goes up to touch my face. “Your eyes.” That’s all she says before placing her hand to her sides. She looks embarrassed she touched me.
“No. I don’t want to get fat.” I close my eyes, shaking my head.
“You need to eat. You need to put on weight so your pup grows strong. He can’t grow if you don’t eat.” Her shoulders hunch forward.
Helping her off the exam table, I bring her into my office.
“Do you mind coming into the office for just a moment?” I avoid his eyes. This has to stop. She needs food or else she and her pup’s lives will be endangered. No matter what I think of her brother, I have a duty to do. I notice Dr. Valentine’s office door is wide open.
Clayton walks in, breathing through his mouth. He sits close to his sister, who’s looking like she’s in trouble. His arm goes around her shoulder with a little rub and a ruffle of her hair.
“Don’t do that, Clay. You’re messing up my hair.” He gives her a smile, a real beautiful, brotherly smile that does things to my body.
I can see him looking around at my pictures on the wall, of the newborns with me holding them.
“Clayton.” His hand grips onto the armrest. I think I hear it crack with the force. I can see hair starting to come on his forearms. He gets up off his chair, turning his back on the both of us, his hand on the door as if he’s trying to turn it open, but his claws are starting to descend, making it impossible. He’s trying to breathe through his mouth, big chest heaving, mind-cleansing breaths.
I need to say something for him to get control of himself. I think my mouth is open slightly, along with Kimberly’s at the moment. It’s rare for full-grown males to fight skin against fur.
“Your sister hasn’t been eating properly since Luna Catherine is gone. Someone needs to keep an eye on her. She needs to eat at least five times a day. She needs good food, natural food.” Kimberly’s head hangs low, shoulders hunched. If she were in wolf form, her tail would be between her legs.
“Kim, why haven’t you been eating?” His words are muffled slightly, and his whole body turns toward her in concern. His attention is only on her. His shift is stopping.
“I didn’t want to get fat. If I get fat, then he won’t like me anymore. He’ll reject me for someone else.” Big fat tears start trailing down her face. I get a tissue for her, coming to stand in front of her. I get down on my knees so we are both equals in this room. His warm breath is hitting the side of my face; my skin goosebumps naturally.
“Your mate won’t think you’re getting fat. He will think how beautiful you a
re. How healthy you look.” She’s crying now, great body moving sobs.
“I’m just so afraid that my mate will reject me like my brother rejected you.” I watch as Clayton closes his eyes for a fraction of a second before focusing them on Kimberly.
“Kimberly, it’s different between Clayton and me. You know that. It’s not the same as your situation.” I’m gently rubbing her back as she wipes her nose on the tissue.
“Kim, is that what you think?” She nods her head yes. A very unpleasant quiet takes hold in the office. It’s only disturbed by her trying to calm her crying. I can’t look up at Clayton, though I can feel his eyes on me. I can feel them on the side of my face, my neck at the spot that should have been claimed by now. I can feel them sweep over my lips, my hair, down my spine inch by inch until his gaze is pulled away.
“Kim.” Her name is spoken so softly, I can’t believe it could come out of his mouth. He puts both hands on her shoulders. “Look at me, Kimberly.” Her deer eyes look up at her big brother.
“Rya.” He says my name, and his whole body shudders. He drops to his knees in front of us. His mouth extends into that of a wolf, his head shaking from side to side.
“Stop.” It’s a garbled sound, a flagrant growl sounds from his chest. His hands are fists, knuckles pushing into the floor. His claws are starting to break skin, causing a small puddling of blood to leak out.
“Holy shit!” Kimberly jumps up, looking at her brother losing his mind on my office floor. The wolf’s eyes stare back at Kimberly. Black orbs devoid of any color, the wolf pushing himself forward hard…a snap of the jaw Kimberly’s way has me stepping in front of her, protecting the female from this unstable male.
His head comes up, nose sniffing the air. Body crouched on the ground, the fur and skin side in a state of anarchy.
He’s agile, standing on two legs instead of four, his shift in stasis. Neither side is able to win.
We stay like this for just a minute before he finally gets the upper hand on that wolf of his.
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