by Alana Hart
He pursed his lips in consternation, eyes squinting part way, not quite knowing how to react, I imagined. “But— why? I thought you were comfortable with us now?”
Okay, maybe I was in a laughing mood. I certainly laughed at that, anyway; it was a rather bitter, almost forlorn laugh, though. What was with him? What did he expect, with the mere scraps of information he’d given me? “I am, I suppose; and I’m also absolutely not.”
His brows drew together in confusion. “Wh-what does that mean?”
I groaned, and rubbed my face with both hands for a moment. “I don’t even know. That’s the point. This is all-” I paused, floundering around for the right words. “It’s all just so much. So much information, so many feelings, so much to try and figure out and process. I don’t know what to think or feel, or what is my own thoughts and feelings and what is coming from you lot.”
He tilted his head to the side, a decidedly canine gesture that almost made me smile. “What’s the difference?” He sounded genuinely perplexed by my distinction, not sarcastic at all.
I ignored his question, since I honestly had no idea how to answer it in a way that would make sense to him. “You haven’t exactly been much help, either. What information I do have on which to base a decision, I have from your grandmother instead of you!” My voice rose a bit, but I forced it back down. “You should be kissing her feet, by the way; if it weren’t for her I’d have probably been long gone, not hanging around to get my head played with more.”
He still looked confused. Is he really that thick-headed? “Who’s been playing with your head?”
“Argh!” I seriously wanted to bash my head against my car. Yes, apparently he really is that thick-headed.
❖ ❖ ❖
“You can’t possibly be that stupid, Bryson. You’ve been messing with my head from the moment we saw each other on campus.”
His eyes widened in what looked like genuine surprise. “Is that how it’s seemed to you? No wonder you’ve been acting so angry with me.”
I gave another small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, that would be why.”
He pursed his lips again, brows drawn together, seeming thoughtful. Eventually he asked, somewhat haltingly, “Is it me, or the pack and all it entails, that you still aren’t sure of?”
Well, that was certainly more direct than he’d been, basically at all. It drew me up short, and it was my turn to have to take a minute to consider. “Well… both, really.”
His lips pulled down in a little pout at my answer. His eyes were fixed on my face, studying every slightest muscle twitch by the looks of it.
“You aren’t sure how I feel about you, or how you feel about me?” His voice was barely more than a whisper now, husky, and damned sexy. That tone woke up something warm and hungry deep inside me that I had been quite happy to leave dormant, thank you very much.
I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. I studied his face in return, so familiar, so beloved, and yet for so long it had been so hated; my emotions were a massive snarl that I was just beginning to tease out into some semblance of sense. I struggled to find an honest way to answer him.
“I— again, I’d have to say, both.” My pulse was racing again, I was both terrified and exhilarated. I had no idea how he would react, or even how I hoped he would react.
It seemed like an eternity that we just stood there, staring into one another’s eyes, as we each contemplated our situation and the other’s answers. How could he not have realized how confusing he had been, how creepy and scary and just plain bewildering?
I knew I wanted to be with him, it seemed like every cell in my body yearned for him in a way I hadn’t recognized until Madge called it out. But I still didn’t know if I should — could — let myself be with him. He seemed so oblivious, on a pretty basic level. He hadn’t been this way in high school. Was it the pack, taking over as alpha, that had left him so blind to basic communication skills with a ‘mere’ human?
Will that happen to me if I accept this?
I had no idea what was running through his mind, but he seemed to finally be putting some of the pieces together by the parade of emotions in his eyes and twisting his expression this way and that. Excellent, maybe I’ll finally get some answers out of him.
What I got, however, was not exactly answers, at least not in words. Instead, he wrapped both arms around me, pulling me to his broad chest, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a deep kiss. I put my hands on his chest, for a moment intending to push him away, out of surprise more than anything. But before he even noticed anything resembling resistance, I melted into him. His lips were warm and smooth and surprisingly soft. I slid my arms up around his neck, pressing into him, clinging to him like a lifeline.
He was warm, solid, real, and I knew he was telling me he could be mine if I wanted that. I had the oddest sensation, like tendrils of wind and magic fireworks swirling around us like something out of a Disney movie, though of course that was only in my imagination. What was not my imagination, however, was how my whole body reacted to him. I felt like my bones were all turning to jelly, and a molten, quivering heat began to build in my lower belly.
A moment later, I realized that my body was not the only one reacting to the kiss. I felt a twitching length hardening against my hips. I was not ready to deal with that just yet, even if my body screamed that it was.
I slid my hands back down to his chest, and pushed; gentle at first, but then harder when he didn’t react. As distracted as he was by the kiss, and given how much larger and stronger he was than me, I had to push with what for me was considerable force before it sunk in to him that I was trying to break the kiss rather than just caressing his chest, and he finally backed off slightly.
❖ ❖ ❖
I pulled back and stepped out of his embrace, then took another step back, and another. Inexplicably, I felt tears break free and trickle down my cheeks.
To his credit, he looked beyond alarmed when he saw the tears. “Ada? Did I hurt you, honey?” He sounded almost as bewildered as I felt.
“No, I— Yes! Yes, you hurt me, you hurt me worse than anyone ever except my father. You left without a word, abandoned me, left my heart shattered without any idea what happened or why. But now, hurray, it turns out I’m actually good enough for you after all, and I’m just supposed to take you back no questions asked even though you can’t even be bothered to tell me anything or even that you actually want to be together or what and I have to try and get information from your grandmother instead of from you!” I was babbling, saying the first words that came into my head with no regard to how they fit together, but he seemed to at least follow the gist of my rambling.
“What do you mean I haven’t told you I want to be together with you? Isn’t that obvious, Adalyn?” His voice sounded tense, and a little wounded, too. He had no right to act like I was the one who had wounded him, after everything he’d done!
I bit my lip, shaking my head a bit. “I mean, I gathered as much, especially after talking to Miss Madge, but— well, it’s one of those things it’s good to hear straight up.”
He stepped forward, closing the little gap I had made between us, and lifted one big hand to cup the side of my face gently. It startled me slightly to realize that he was literally cupping the entire side of my face. His hands were huge! “Of course I want to be with you, Adalyn. I always have, ever since we were freshmen. I thought we couldn’t be together, so when I had to leave, I tried to give you a clean break. It hurt me, too, more than I can put into words, but I thought it was necessary. I know that doesn’t make any sense to you right now, but it will. Taking a human mate is just not a possibility for the Alpha. If I had known that you were a half-blood, nothing could have come between us.”
“You keep saying that, so did Madge — mate. What does that mean, exactly? I mean, sex, babies? Something else?”
One side of his mouth drew up in a quirky little smile. “Well, in theory, it includes those things, at least ho
pefully. It’s— it’s kind of like marriage, or at least what marriage is supposed to be. A true lifetime commitment to one another. We don’t really have any concept of ‘divorce’. Unless one of the pair is abusive; but even then, it’s not so much ‘a divorce’, as it is that the abuser is driven from the pack. Neither half would take another mate.”
“So, basically what you’re saying is, after abandoning me and breaking my heart and not hearing from you for years, after essentially two days, you want me to marry you, with hardly any information and no recourse if it turns out to be a mistake?” My voice rose higher and higher in pitch as I spoke, until the last was barely more than a squeak. There was a little corner of my mind that insisted that didn’t sound like a bad idea at all, but I ignored it.
❖ ❖ ❖
He looked stunned, his eyes wide and his jaw a little slack. “I — er — well — geez, it sounds so awful when you put it that way, Adalyn,” he finally managed lamely. His shoulder hunched a bit, as if under the weight of my indignation.
I gave a short laugh, and I could feel an edge of hysteria creeping over me. “No shit it sounds awful! It feels pretty awful, too!” My breath was coming faster by the moment. I was being fairly nasty, and I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself; all the frustration and anger over the last few weeks was boiling to the surface again.
“I mean, I just— that’s not really what I meant at all.” He seemed so confused. Aww, poor baby! I thought sarcastically. Can’t imagine what it must be like to be confused!
“No? What did you mean, then? Cause that’s sure what it sounded like to me!” My control over my volume was slipping, and others were beginning to stir awake from the noise, but I really didn’t care at this point. Let them hear, let them all effing hear!
“I just — you said you didn’t even know if I wanted to be with you. I definitely want to be with you. I always have. That’s all.”
“Oh, is that all?” I was reaching the point of hyperventilating again, and my chest felt constricted. Oh good grief… am I really having a panic attack?
“Ada, honey, calm down, please? You need to learn to control these new stronger emotions, don’t let them take you over.” He tried to soothe me, but if anything, it had the opposite effect.
“Will you stop telling me to fucking calm down? You haven’t given me any reason to be calm! Quit pissing me off and maybe I can quit being pissed!” Despite my words, I tried to take his advice, tried to regain control over my roiling emotions.
He tried to reach for me again, and I smacked his hand away, taking a step back again. “Look, I — I need to think. I can’t — I just can’t cope with all of this right now. I’ve got to go.”
The way his lips were puckered and brows knitted, he looked like he was on the verge of tears himself. Well, gee, he essentially just proposed and you had a panic attack and are running away. Can’t imagine why he might be a bit stung, too.
Shut up.
Great, now I’m arguing with myself. Let’s add schizophrenic to the pile, why not. My life was in danger of becoming boring for a second there. I whimpered faintly, and turned, fleeing towards my car. This time he didn’t stop me, just stood there, watching, a helpless, almost lost looking expression on his face.
“You will come back, right? Once you’ve thought things through?”
I paused with my hand on the latch of my car door. “I don’t know, Bryson. I— maybe? Yes? Probably?” With my free hand, I swiped at my wet cheeks, sniffing a bit. “Part of me… wants this more than anything. But I don’t know if I can deal with it all, if I can take it.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond, just pulled open the door and slid inside. It took a supreme effort on my part, but I managed not to look at him again as I pulled out, turned, and headed through the hidden entry. I knew if I did I’d have ended up stopping to go back to him, and I had some hard decisions to make before I let that happen.
I turned onto the main road, such as it was, and drove far enough that I was fairly certain even wolf ears wouldn’t be able to hear me stop, then pulled onto the shoulder. I leaned on my steering wheel, and let my emotions take control for a little while. I cried, I screamed, I pounded on the wheel.
Once I’d let it all out and regained control of myself, I got back on the road fully, and headed back to town. The tears only obscured my vision a little.
Chapter Twelve
By the time I got home, I felt like my eyelids were made of sandpaper; the few short hours of sleep on the hard ground had not left me sufficiently rested. I decided my first priority was a nap. I curled up on top of my covers — I knew if I actually changed clothes and got under the covers, I would probably sleep till nightfall, and then my schedule would be completely messed up, instead of just momentarily odd.
I woke up a little after 11, which I figured wasn’t too awful. I sat up, then just sat there for a while. What a weekend! Crazy piled on top of crazy.
I finally decided I had spent too long obsessing over all of this. I needed to attend to the rest of my life, too. I got up, made myself a cup of coffee, and put it in my travel mug, sipping it on my way back out the door.
I only saw one or two other people besides the staff at the gym, being noon on a Sunday — most people were in church or sharing a Sunday dinner with their families — which suited me just fine. I went back to the locker room to change, then hit the treadmills.
I set it to work slowly from a walk up to a jog. I tried to be fully in the moment, to listen to the upbeat music playing and let my mind rest. As the speed picked up though, my thoughts were all centered on what it would have been like to run with the pack last night; to run wild and free, and with a purpose instead of running in place. It felt like my whole life had been spent running in place instead of actually getting anywhere, accomplishing anything. Maybe this explained why? Perhaps there was a part of me left unfulfilled, that could never be fulfilled by a ‘normal’ human life.
The thought was both depressing and exciting in nearly equal measure — that a normal life might never satisfy me, and that I had the chance for something more.
If I chose to stay in the life I led now — an ‘if’ that was growing less likely by the minute, but still — would I be left feeling unfulfilled, as if I never really accomplished anything, my entire life?
In high school, I always thought I would feel like I had really accomplished something if I passed that year, but I never really did, it just led to the next year, just one more step on the treadmill. The speed increased, but it was still the same old thing.
Of course, I was certain that graduating from high school would feel like a real accomplishment. But that, too, was just another step on the treadmill.
On to college, and still I jogged along in place, more of the same, day in and day out. There was no real change, no accomplishment. Just more running in place. I was still hoping my degree would change that feeling, that I would finally be able to make a difference; but now I wasn’t so sure anything in the ‘normal’ world would ever really leave me feeling fulfilled.
Suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of taking even one more step on the treadmill — the real one, that is. I jumped off of it without even turning it off first; I leaned back over it to reset the controls and watched it slow and stop. If only the metaphorical treadmill were as easy to escape.
Except. . . Was it? Was that what I was being offered? A chance to escape the endless, pointless grind, if only a few nights a month?
I tried to shake off the rather maudlin line of thought. It must be because I had been running on empty for so long. I glanced at the clock and was surprised to find I had been running for the better part of an hour. I needed to get some lunch, and some studying in!
I grabbed a quick shower and changed back into my normal clothes, and headed out. I grabbed a salad on the way home just so I wouldn’t have to bother with the prep. Once I got home, I settled in on the couch to eat, using my feet as a stand for my textbook. My mind
was finally clear enough, that I only had to re-read a few passages. Since it finally seemed to be working, I spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening playing catch-up on my sadly neglected schoolwork, stopping just long enough to make myself a sandwich for dinner, which I ate back on the couch while reading again.
By eight, I was yawning. I never went to bed that early, but after all the stress and chaos and missed sleep, I figured I deserved some extra. I packed up my books and notes, feeling quite virtuous, and went to crawl into bed. By the time I’d brushed my hair and changed into my pj’s, I was so worn out that I didn’t actually remember my head hitting the pillow.
❖ ❖ ❖
I woke up Monday morning actually feeling refreshed for the first time in far too long. I woke up fairly early, so I took my time getting ready for the day; I enjoyed a long shower letting the warm water relax knotted muscles, I primped and pampered myself, and even went so far as to French braid my hair after I’d blow-dried it, a style I loved but was usually too time-intensive for me to do.
