by Sierra Dean
The ring Desmond gave me felt completely different.
It was a gold filigree band with a single diamond set into it. The stone wasn’t blinding or huge, nor was it small. It was a totally average, totally perfect ring. Something I might have selected for myself, if I was in the habit of choosing imaginary jewelry. The design screamed vintage.
“Desmond, it’s beautiful.”
“I know it’s nothing fancy…”
“No. It’s beautiful,” I assured him. Tears had started forming in my eyes, and I blinked hard. Nothing would ruin the mood quite like weeping bloodstained tears onto my new ring. “It’s perfect.”
“I asked my mom for it before we left.”
I recalled him asking her to join him upstairs, and now I understood he’d been plotting this the whole time.
He lifted my hand and placed a kiss on my fingertips before smiling at me in that Desmond way of his. He was just so handsome, so genuine, my heart physically hurt to look at him. How could one person be that in love with me? It radiated off him in a way I could feel, and warmed me to my core.
“So.” He removed the ring from the box, and in spite of the fact I’d already said yes once, my pulse quivered in nervous anticipation. “Secret Merriweather McQueen. What do you say? Will you marry me?”
I couldn’t stop from crying this time, the individual tears sliding down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. “Yes.”
“Good, because I would have been really upset if you changed your mind in less than twenty-four hours.” He slid the ring on and admired it openly. “You know that was the easy part, right?”
Sadly, I did.
Now the fun would really begin.
“Where’s Holden?” I asked. “I should tell him first.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I had done a lot of difficult things in my life. Tasks people might have claimed were impossible to complete, I had managed to accomplish.
I’d killed a demon who tried to level New York City. I’d bested a fairy in a contest of logic. I’d survived dozens of times when my death should have been certain.
None of those things had felt half as impossible as telling Holden about Desmond.
When Lucas had proposed, Holden had been present. He’d watched the whole thing, and he’d been none too impressed. But it also hadn’t put a damper on his attempts to woo me, and I’d never tried to stop him either. During that period of my life, love had been a free-for-all.
Since then I’d learned there was no such thing as easily splitting your heart in multiple directions.
And now I was splitting my heart permanently because I’d made the choice to love Desmond, but my vampire half would always love Holden. If there was a way for me to have both of them, I would do it forever, but a three-way love story never works out in real life.
At least not when two-thirds of the people involved hate each other.
Callum had been as understanding as possible about me including Holden in my party, but before I’d gone on my run, my uncle made it perfectly clear the vampire couldn’t stay on the estate.
Tensions between Holden and the wolves would inevitably come to a boil, and someone was going to get hurt. Since Holden hadn’t come along to stir up trouble, he’d agreed to stay away from the cabins and the estate proper. He still needed a place to sleep during the day, though, and Callum had offered him the use of an old converted stable.
During the period when the cabins and bar were being built behind Callum’s mansion, a few of the wolves had stayed in the stable for several months, and during that time they’d upgraded it to be living suitable. It might not be the fanciest digs, Callum had told me, but it was better than stowing away in a shed somewhere.
Or a pigeon coop, I’d reminded myself.
Though Desmond had offered to come with me to tell Holden, I thought it would be best the vampire got the news from me alone. I suspected it wasn’t going to be a happy conversation, and I knew having Desmond with me would only make it that much worse.
The stable was dark when I arrived, and I let myself in through the heavy side door.
I was barely across the threshold when Holden emerged from the darkness like a ghost appearing from nowhere. My heart leapt.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.
No sense in lying to him, he’d been able to sense the shift in my pulse and the change of pheromones. In that way, vampires truly could smell fear.
“It’s fine. How are you doing out here? Did you find anything to eat?”
We’d both filled up before leaving Grandmere’s, but given how much we’d been through, one small meal wasn’t going to hold us over for that long. I was already starting to worry what might happen if I didn’t get back home soon.
“I went hunting. Not a lot around here thanks to the…natural predators. But I made do.”
“Good.”
We stood there, staring at each other. I wanted to speak, but something in me didn’t let the words come out no matter how hard I tried.
“It’s been a tough few months for you,” he said finally.
“It has. And not just for me.”
He nodded. “Come on. Let’s sit down.” He led the way into a living room where most of the furniture had been removed, save for a couch straight from 1974. The pattern was terrible, but when we sat, I was delighted to find it was still comfortable.
“Things are…changing…” I said, hoping I’d be able to use that as my starting-off point.
Rather than helping me along, Holden simply stared. He was also keeping his distance from me, when normally he would be sitting close enough for our thighs to touch.
He knew.
“Desmond asked me to marry him,” I blurted at last, unable to find a gentler way to pull the trigger.
“I know.”
I looked down at the ring on my hand. “Oh. Not terribly subtle, I guess.”
“No. I knew he was going to do it. He told me.”
That brought my attention right back up. “He told you? Like…he asked for your blessing?”
Holden rested his elbow against the back of the couch and propped his chin on his balled fist. He was gorgeous. Moody, dark and totally beautiful. I wanted to hold him, but I couldn’t. Both because I worried I’d lose my resolve to end things, and because I still wasn’t sure I could handle being touched that way by anyone.
“Not my blessing, no. After the thing in California, when he and I agreed we wouldn’t force your hand with the decision, we also agreed once you did make a choice, we’d accept it. If you chose me, he’d step down. If…” He looked off into the room and refused to glance back at my face. “If you chose him, I would let you go.”
My heart broke. Hearing him say the words was a punch in the solar plexus. It didn’t matter if I was doing the right thing, or that I was picking the partner I wanted to be with. Because I was still hurting, and he was still hurting, and there was never going to be a way to do this without tears, heartache and complete emotional ruin.
I assumed I’d be hurting Holden.
Truth was, I was hurting myself too.
“Before you went to Paris with him, he and I talked again. We talked about you. About how…hard things had been.”
“You mean how crazy I am.”
“I didn’t say crazy. That’s beside the point though. He talked, and we agreed we weren’t doing you any favors by creating yet another stress in your life. He suggested one of us needed to force your hand and see what happened. Either you’d reject the offer or accept it. And one way or the other, we’d have our answer.”
Realization dawned on me when I fully appreciated what he was saying. “You had the option,” I said. “You had the chance to be the one who proposed.”
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Now he looked at me, and the pain on his face was so raw I thought I might break down in tears again. “Would you have said yes?”
I wanted to say yes now
to his question. The kind lie would be to tell him I’d have married him if he asked, but I thought about it. I thought about my time being human and how the only thing I could dream of was basking in the daylight with Desmond and the idea of having his children. It was my dream come true. When I’d been given the chance to let Holden change me into a full-blooded vampire, I’d turned it down.
He’d already asked me to spend eternity with him.
And I’d already said no.
“Holden…”
“It’s okay. I knew it could happen this way. I’ve loved you a long time, Secret, and I’ve watched you love others. But you also loved me. I know you loved me.”
“I still love you.” A hiccup broke out, and tears began falling down my cheeks. I wanted to do anything to wipe the sadness from his face, but there were no words or actions I could use to fix this. “I will always love you.”
“And I’ll always love you. I’ll love you when you’ve gone old and gray, and you and the dog have been together so long you can barely stand to look at him anymore. I’m going to love you when you’ve died and turned to dust, and all I have is memories. I will love you with every piece of myself, until New York City crumbles to ashes and the memory of everything we had is only mine. And when I die, I will still love you.”
I wept openly, every part of me feeling the weight of his admission and the burden of what my own love for him would mean to me for the rest of my life. But he’d been right all those months ago when he said it wasn’t fair for me to keep them both. It wasn’t. Except now I was letting go, and it didn’t feel any easier.
“Why didn’t you ask?” I said stupidly, though he and I both knew the answer.
“Because even though we love each other…you love him more. You chose him.”
I stared, my body shuddering with sobs, and finally he moved. The distance between us had felt like a cavern, and inside the pit of it was everything I had lost and everything I was giving up.
Holden wrapped his arms around me and pulled me toward him. His skin felt cooler than usual because I was flushed from crying. He kissed me, and his mouth felt warm from my tears. I kissed him back, memorizing the feel of his lips, knowing this would be the last time.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I buried my face against his neck.
“Everyone who ever fell in love has been hurt. The real beauty of it is knowing the pain has been worthwhile.” He pulled back and met my gaze, the slightest forced smile on his lips.
I took him in, looking at his chocolate-colored eyes, his dark hair just this side of too long and his impossibly beautiful face that was the stuff late-night fantasies and Greek sculptures were made of.
“Was it worth it?” I placed my hand against his cheek, and he rested his forehead against mine.
“I could live a thousand years, Secret, and I wouldn’t regret a single second.”
Chapter Forty
Callum could look as perturbed as he wanted to.
At this point nothing could faze me.
“I recall you making this request of me once before, Secret.” He leaned back in his fancy office chair and stared across the desk at Desmond and me as though we were applying for a bank loan.
“Yes. Because you forced me to last time. And if I remember correctly, you tried to talk me out of it because you knew even then I wasn’t meant to be with Lucas.”
Callum laced his fingers together, resting his hands on his flat stomach. “Yet you chose to marry Lucas, and the ceremony was completed. In the eyes of the pack, you’re his queen. And you cannot pretend not to know that because I’ve seen you use your position to your benefit even since you’ve arrived.”
“Werewolves are all about power. If I’ve got it, I’m going to use it.”
“And you’d yield your power? You understand if you were to end your marriage to Lucas, you won’t be a queen anymore. You’ll lose the title and the power. A lot of people will lose respect for you, as well, especially after such a short time together.”
I rolled my eyes. “Because so many people respect me now?”
Desmond’s teeth ground together audibly. I think the only reason he hadn’t told me to tone down my vitriol was because—as the conversation with Callum suggested—I outranked him.
“How do I know this time it will last?” Callum asked.
“How does anyone know it’s going to last? I know an honest-to-God Oracle, and even she won’t tell me if this is the right choice. No one can know that kind of thing for certain. But you knew it wouldn’t last with Lucas. You went so far as to prove it to me, didn’t you? I never did get a chance to thank you for that.”
If there wasn’t a desk between us, I would have thanked him with a nice open-palmed smack across the face.
“Oh, that thing with the wedding, you mean.”
“That thing with the wedding,” I parroted. “Yeah, the thing where you made him stand me up at the altar on our wedding day. That thing.”
Callum shrugged. “I think it is important to know where someone’s priorities are. His were not with you.” My uncle looked to Desmond. “And you. You have your own responsibilities to the Eastern pack. How can I know you will be more devoted to her than your king?”
“I’m with her now, and not with my king,” Desmond replied. “I’m his second, but he is no longer the most important thing to me. I will forever be a member of my pack, and I’ll lay down my life for them if needed. I’m loyal. But she is my life.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, a gesture more for himself than Callum, I suspected, since the desk blocked a clear view of our hands.
“It’s a lovely speech, Mr. Alvarez.”
“It’s not just a speech.”
My uncle tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, taking his time. I was fairly certain he was lollygagging to build dramatic tension, and I was about to call him on it when he cleared his throat and once again turned his focus on us.
“I appreciate that you came to me. Both of you. It shows respect, and it tells me you’re growing to understand the ways of your pack, Secret.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
“But if you tell me I can’t marry Desmond, I’m going to do it anyway.”
“Secret.” Evidently this was too much for Des to keep quiet about. I don’t think he understood the kind of relationship Callum and I had developed. I held my uncle accountable for the shit he pulled, and in return I think he liked me better because of it. But our camaraderie was strange, and I appreciated how it must look from the outside. I think Callum felt I was like the son he never had.
“I like your honesty.” Callum chuckled. “When I was a younger man and in love—yes, it happened once, maybe twice—I said the same thing. As it turned out, I liked the chase more than I liked the work of settling down. So I need you to assure me this isn’t going to be like the Lucas situation.”
“No. My chase is over,” I said.
“Divorce used to be forbidden between soul-bonded mates. It was believed to be an affront to the divine connection two werewolves had been blessed with. We aren’t all lucky enough to be soul-bonded, you know.”
“I know.”
“And certainly none of us has ever been so fortunate to have two soul bonds.” He inclined his head towards Desmond.
“Yeah. I don’t know about fortunate,” I replied. “Most of the time it was more trouble than it was worth.”
“Thanks,” Desmond added.
“My point,” Callum continued. “Is it was once impossible to be granted a divorce. Now, however, it’s a little easier. I, as your pack representative and the elder male in your family, give you permission to marry Desmond Alvarez.”
My heart gave a leap. I hated how old-fashioned and patriarchal it was, but knowing I wouldn’t have to fight tooth and nail to marry Des made it all worthwhile.
“But…”
Oh Jesus.
“But?” I asked.
“To get a divorce, both partners i
n the marriage must consent.”
“Oh.” My spirits were suddenly back down in the hopeless zone again.
“Oh,” Desmond seconded. “That’s all?” His sarcasm was so evident I worried Callum might get angry with him for showing insolence.
Instead my uncle offered us both a sad smile. “I never said it would be easy.”
Desmond and I sat side by side at The Den’s bar, both more focused on our drinks than on discussing what had happened. I twirled my new engagement ring around on my finger, trying to get used to the feel of it. It was a strange and wonderful new addition to my hand, and I liked reminding myself it was there.
“It could have gone worse,” he said finally.
“How do you figure?”
“He could have said no. A lot of Alphas do. Since the pool of wolves in each pack is so limited, they like to avoid couples parting ways. A couple who stays together has a better shot at making new werewolves, you know?”
I did not know. Though I guess it made sense in a weird way.
“But it doesn’t matter if Callum said yes. Lucas is definitely not going to be on board with you and me getting married. He’s convinced he can stay married to me and eventually I’ll, like, come around or something. He won’t grant me a divorce.”
Desmond pivoted on his stool and placed his hands on my hips, turning me towards him so our knees were touching. “I know you think he’s a bad guy.”
“He is a bad guy. I don’t just think it, I know it.”
“Let me finish.”
I felt embarrassed for interjecting my opinion.
“I know you think Lucas is the villain in our story. I get it. He has done things to you, to both of us, that seem completely unforgiveable. But you have this habit of seeing Lucas as a man, and I think sometimes you forget he is, first and foremost, a king.”
“I know he’s the king.”
“Do you understand what that means though? Because I grew up with him. I’ve known for as long as he has what the whole purpose of his life has to be. The pack is his life. They own him. Every morning he gets up, the first thing on his mind will be the pack. It will matter more to him than love, than his children, than anything else he ever encounters in his life. You hate Lucas because you think he picked the pack over you. But the truth of the matter is, Secret, he had no choice. It’s too deeply ingrained now for him to let the pack take second place. And when he decided to marry you, he did it because he thought it would be good for the pack.”
