by Lila Felix
Dad cleared his throat after that statement from Tarrow. The girls and I were just watching the exchange like we had money on it.
“Duties to the clan? What would those be?”
“Clint!” My mom did that clearing her throat, sort of reprimanding thing to my dad once in a while.
“What Vidalia? It sounds like the boy has a full plate with the clan.” His tone was less than joyful when he said the word clan. “I’m just making sure he’ll have time for a mate. I’m assessing the priorities here.”
Tarrow put down his fork and took a long draw of the water from his glass. He ticked his eyes over to me but they showed no fear. This boy didn’t cower.
I kind of loved that.
When he finally put the glass down, the words flowed out of his mouth with complete confidence.
“Sir, my first priority will always be Dahlia’s happiness—not even the clan comes before that. That includes any family we may one day have. That being said, as a member of the clan, it’s my responsibility to be a contributing part of it. That includes security and being the best Beta I can. And in securing the clan, I secure my mate as well.”
My dad didn’t flinch.
I sure as hell did. If wasn’t surrounded by my parents and sisters, I might’ve crawled over the table, grabbed him by that button-down’s collar and kissed the hell out of him.
“And if she doesn’t want to be in the clan? If it’s her decision to be rogue? What will your choice be then?”
“It’s my understanding that rogue and independent are two very different things. But in either case, where she goes, I will go. There’s no choice to make.”
“Sounds like a verbatim speech from a brochure.”
“Well, we do take classes on history and things, but my opinion is my own.”
Though he showed no evidence of it, Tarrow’s unease about the conversation tasted bitter on my tongue. I swallowed against the sensation, not caring at all for his discomfort at the hand of the people I loved the most.
“You know I was once in the Lafourche clan.”
A ripple of nervousness passed through him. The first I’d felt of the night.
“I didn’t know that, Sir. I’m assuming that was under Matthias.”
My dad’s eyebrow jumped. “It was.”
“That was a dark time for our clan.”
No one at the table was eating anymore. We were all on edge. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Tarrow was supposed to be nervous, but not for the reasons he was now. And I was supposed to be giggly and girly, instead of afraid that this was the first rip in the long tear between Tarrow and my family.
“Matthias was formidable in his reign of terror. He was a disgrace to our species.”
“As I said, Sir. That was a horrible time for our clan.”
Dad laughed, but there was no joke. “See? He won’t even say how horrible one of his clansmen is, no matter how many lives were lost and ruined by that man. I’m sure your Alpha is perfect now, correct?”
“No, Sir. He’s not perfect. No one if perfect. But he’s trying to make the clan better for all of us.”
“I’m finished here.” Dad threw his napkin on the chair and stomped from the room.
“I’d better go. Thank you Mrs. Branch for the hospitality. The meal was excellent.”
My mom looked like she might cry. “You’re welcome here anytime, Tarrow.”
“I doubt that, ma’am, but I appreciate it.” Then he looked at me with the saddest eyes. The moment was sludge in my chest and mud in my mouth-heavy and laden with regret. “I’ll see you later, Dahlia.” And as he walked out the door, I heard him whisper, “Maybe”.
I couldn’t help the anger that swelled in me. I didn’t understand how one minute my father could speak of mates and grandchildren and then in the face of my future, defy it and turn his opinion on its axis.
It wasn’t like my father, regardless of his opinion of clans.
I barely heard my mother beg me not to do what I was about to do.
“Dad!” I yelled through the house and outside until I found him out by the chairs I’d sat in with Tarrow the night before.
“Not right now, Dahlia.”
I checked the driveway, hoping against hope that Tarrow was there, waiting for me to jump into his car and get away.
Never in my life had I wanted to get away from home like I did in that moment.
“Yes, Dad. Now. What in the hell was that? He’s not whoever wronged you in that clan and you know nothing about him. Hell, I know nothing about him. I had hoped to rectify some of that tonight, but we see how you turned that on its head.”
He stroked his graying beard and looked out into the night.
“He’s not trying to sell us anything, Dad. And he’s not stealing me either.”
“I know.” He exhaled. “I know, Dahlia. I’m just afraid. If you join that clan, I’ll never see you again. It’s not too late, you know. You can break this bond and find a new mate.”
I walked over and sat on the arm of the chair. He put his arm around me and leaned against my waist.
“It is too late, Dad. I want him as my mate. I’m falling in love with him already.”
“It doesn’t take long, does it?” His tone had evolved and now reflected the man I knew.
“No. It doesn’t.”
We sat there for a while, watching the moon rise and peak. That night there were no peeking gnomes in the windows. The house was still and so were we.
“I have to ask you one question and then I’ll be satisfied with your choice in this.”
I groaned and he chuckled. The night had been unexpectedly rough on the both of us.
“One question and then I think I have some mate hunting to do.”
“I think you do too. I will apologize to him later, depending on the answer to my question.”
“Shoot.”
“Did he lie? In any of his answers? Was there even an inkling of a lie in what he was saying?”
I knew that this was something I was supposed to know as his mate. I was supposed to know if he was lying. The thing was, I didn’t know how to tell. At least, my human side didn’t know. My bear, she curled her knowledge around me. There were no lies in my mate’s words.
None at all.
“It tastes like pennies that have been in the river a long time. Like iron and mildew.”
My mom chimed in, bringing us both cups of tea. I hadn’t even heard her steps.
“There were no lies tonight, Dad. Tarrow has been nothing but honest with me—with all of us.”
My dad scrubbed his face, dragging his hands down and then slapping them on his thighs. “Then it seems I’m the fool tonight.”
“You’re not a fool, Clint. You’re trying to protect our daughter. But I think she has a new protector now. It’s a good thing you’ve got six more girls to keep you busy. This one is taken care of.”
Tears welled in my father’s eyes. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen them. My dad was an emotional guy who had told me he loved me more times than there were stars.
“I’m sorry, Dahlia.”
“Don’t be sorry, Dad. I have to go talk to him.”
“I’ll make amends. This guy is family now. We don’t let family stay angry overnight. Not good for the soul.”
My hippie dad was back.
“I’ll be back, okay. I have my phone.”
“Be safe.”
“I will.”
I drove the half hour to the clan lands, thankful that I’d remembered the way. I came up to the entrance gate and was stopped by a young male.
“Can I help you?”
“I need to see someone in the clan.”
“Who?”
“Tarrow Rivers.”
He hung onto the edge of my rolled down window and peeked inside. I didn’t know if he was checking my car out or me. I didn’t care.
“Can you open the gate, please? It’s kind of urgent.”
“Urgent, huh?�
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Before I could answer the young boy’s attempt at flirting, a hand, a hand I knew now to belong to my mate, wrapped around his throat and jerked him backward, causing him to land flat on his ass. Tarrow took a few steps and then pressed some code in to unlock the gate and it opened before me. I drove in, barely able to take my eyes from my mate. When I was safe on the other side, it closed behind me. When I got out of the car, Tarrow was in front of me, his eyes asking the questions his mouth refused to.
“I had to see you.” I breathed.
“I’m glad you did.”
I looked back to the male who Tarrow had taken down. “Will he be okay?”
My mate chuckled at my ridiculous question. “Of course he will. His only injury is his broken ego. Come on, I’ll drive your car to my house.”
The man barely fit into my bug. It was like squashing Hulk into a Hot Wheel.
“Should I call before coming over next time? I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“No. Aspen is an asshat. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
“How did you know I was here?”
He parked and turned to me, taking my hand in his. “I’d just come outside. I was going to drive to your place to apologize. I couldn’t leave us like that even though it wasn’t you and I fighting, it felt like I was fighting for you. I’ll do it every day if I have to.”
“Do what every day?”
“Fight for you. And if you were angry with me—I didn’t want you to be.”
I breathed out a surge of relief. “I thought you would be the one angry. He was trying to protect me, that’s all. It’s like he’s stuck between wanting to let me grow up and never wanting to let me go. Plus, he’s got a lifetime of hang-ups about clans. But I guess you figured that out.”
I shivered. The night had grown cold, and not just the temperature.
“Let’s get inside. You’re cold.”
“I don’t want to bother your mom.”
“She’s at my sister’s house. One of her twins is sick and she needed the extra hands. She’s spending the night.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t move.”
I wondered if he’d always have to make me wait for him to open the door, even when we were older.
I let him open the door and show me inside. The place was warmer than I’d expected.
“If it’s too warm, let me know. My mom has some joint pain and the cold seems to make it worse. She keeps it like summer in here.”
Summer didn’t quite explain it. It was stifling in there.
“It’s a little warm if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Give me a minute.”
He ran to the hallway and I watched on as he adjusted the thermostat. I took off the sweater I’d thrown on and sat down. The woodwork in his home was immaculate, especially the fireplace mantle. The entire expanse was a swamp scene with bears, carved into the sprawling piece of cypress wood.
“It’s beautiful.” I felt him come up behind me.
“My dad did that. It was his mating gift to my mother, plus the house.”
“Wow. That’s some mating gift.”
I pretended to know that a mating gift was an actual thing.
Looking at my mate, who’d now sidled up next to me, I could tell what this piece of history meant to him.
“The male bear’s creed is engraved underneath it. See?”
He ducked down to point at words under the mantle.
“I can’t read it.”
He cleared his throat. “Your needs before mine. Your heart with mine. Your happiness above mine. Your life tied to mine for all eternity.”
Sweetness and sincerity lulled through me hearing my mate repeat the words his father had meant for his mother, as though it were him promising those things to me.
“That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard.”
Entranced with the etching, I didn’t notice how close Tarrow had gotten to me. His heat radiated from him—it permeated me.
“But the important thing is, do you believe it? Do you believe that your needs will always come before mine. Do you believe that your heart will always beat with mine? Do you believe that your happiness is my true desire?”
I did. Not only could I hear the truth in his voice, but I could see it in his eyes. They drilled into me his earnest conviction to make me happy—make us happy.
“Yes. I believe it.”
Flustered by the intensity, I swayed into him, resting my forehead against his shoulder. Tarrow snaked his arm around my waist and brought me closer, flush with him. He stroked my hair, combing through it with his fingers.
“This is a whole lot better than fighting,” he whispered into my temple before placing the lightest kiss at the same place.
I agreed with a nod.
“You’re hungry,” he grunted.
“A little.” I pulled back to see him calling my bluff with the look on his face. “Okay, a lot. I can’t eat when there’s…turmoil.”
“There will be no more turmoil. I am gonna try my damndest to make sure of that. Now, let’s get my female fed.”
By the hand, he dragged me into the kitchen and patted a spot at the table. “Whatever you want, name it.”
“What do you have?” I giggled at his tenacity.
“Are you serious? We have everything. I eat an army’s worth of food. Come on. Anything. Tell me. It will make me happy.”
“Anything?” I questioned his cooking ability.
“Want me to tell you a story?”
“Um, sure.”
“So, when I was little, five or six, I don’t remember, my dad got really sick. He had lung cancer—from asbestos. There’s some long name, but I can’t pronounce it. Anyway, they brought a hospital bed here to the house so mom could take care of him. It had wheels on it. We had moved this dining table to storage so he could be wheeled right there in front of the big window. He loved the outdoors and she never left his side. I swear, she didn’t go ten feet away from him for two years. He’d be there, in front of the window and she’d teach me to cook things so I’d be more independent. She didn’t have time to cook all the time. And then after he died, we’d cook together and open that window-just to remember. I think that’s why she overdoes it with cooking now. For so long, she was limited in cooking for me, so she spoils me rotten. Long story short, I know how to cook anything you want. Try me.”
After telling me that incredibly sweet and gut-wrenching story, he really expected me to spew out a dinner menu.
“Just make me your favorite. I don’t even know what your favorite is.”
“Okay, but tell me yours first.”
“Easy. Pancakes.”
“Well, mine is spaghetti or salmon, but I think it’s a pancake night for sure.”
I could barely even agree, still stuck in the memory he’d so willingly shared with me.
Thirty minutes later, he presented me with the most perfect plate of three stacked pancakes, piping hot.
“Is that enough? We have bacon and eggs. I’m sure we have sausage.”
“This is plenty. Where’s yours?”
“Right over there. Eat while it’s hot.”
I hesitated. Eating at a table alone wasn’t anything I was used to—and never wanted to get used to it.
“I’m right here. Not alone anymore.” He sat across from me and then winked.
He shouldn’t have winked. A pool of melted goo can’t cut her pancakes. I watched as he flooded my stack with cinnamon maple syrup and waited for my signal that he’d put enough.
“I’ve never had cinnamon in the syrup,” I commented after I’d recovered from the first bite.
“That’s funny.” His eyebrow raised.
“Why?”
He shrugged and an almost blush filled his face. “Well, you’re a cinnamon bear, so…”
“Oh, you’re so funny.”
We bantered back and forth through the meal. I was barred from helping with the dish
es, left to my own devices in his home. He’d suggested that I give myself a tour, so I did. Downstairs was a large bedroom, which I assumed was the master, though it was empty and had been for some time. Upstairs was his mother’s room. It smelled like her, all sunflowers and cake. I walked the area to the other side of the house toward Tarrow’s room.
I paused outside the door. Going in seemed almost too intimate given we only barely knew each other.
“You can go in. I don’t have anything to hide.”
“Maybe I’m just waiting for you.”
I muffled my giggle as I heard his dish washing speed double-time. Within minutes, he bounded up the stairs.
“After you.” He opened the door and waved me inside.
My shoulders sagged and I hefted out a sigh looking at the place. I almost wanted him to be as messy as me.
“It’s so clean.” I sighed again. The bed with a gray comforter was made and everything was in its place. I was afraid to walk in. I’d probably mess it up just breathing.
“What is that?” I knew what he referred to, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t need to know about my self-depravity regarding my general messiness.
“You’ve got a great view of the swamp.”
He caught me by the bicep with a gentle tug. “Don’t change the subject. What is that feeling? I don’t understand it.”
“It doesn’t have a name. We are just so different.”
“It’s disappointment, right?”
I looked at him with as much incredulousness as I could muster. “What? No. Maybe for you, but definitely not for me.”
Tears bloomed in my eyes. I hadn’t meant to cry.
“Dahlia, come sit.”
He sat down on his king-sized bed first and waited with crossed arms for me to join him. It took me a minute to stop my tears, but once I did, I sat next to him.
“Sorry, I’m not usually a crier.”
“I don’t care if you cry. Explain to me what you meant. I don’t like what you were saying and I need to correct whatever conclusion you’ve come to about our mating.”
His tone was stern, but concerned. It was the same tone my father used when I’d done something semi-dangerous.
“You’re house is nice and spotless. You’re always on time and well put together. You know how to cook and the whole clan adores you. I’m a mess. Not a mess like a toddler, a mess like a hurricane, but all the time. I’m always late. I lose everything. I run out of gas all the time because I don’t check the meter. I spend too much time in the swamp. My hair is whacked out.”
