Lover's Soul: Werewolf Sexy Romance (Biwole Wolves Book 2)

by JP Vasha

  Stunned at what she'd just said, I managed to whisper back, No.

  Let me tell you then, the girl, Snow's voice had a soothing tone to it that for some reason put me at peace. Mana is a form of magic, which is usually used to insert magic into an object. However, that's not all what mana is.

  What is it, then? I asked, fascinated with this very odd girl.

  Mana is, in fact, a well of magic. Each magic-user has a limit to their powers, but if one manages to unlock their reach to mana, their figurative well of magic is becoming not just much deeper, but close to infinite. I reached my mana due to my upbringing, and now I have reached an infinite amount of magical power, so much so that I can bend the source of magic to do what I want. That's how I knew who you are, Carla Mill. That's why I know you're a Necromancer. And that's why I know about the visit Michelangelo, the Deity, paid to you.

  That made me reach to a full stop. I never got a visit from someone named Michelangelo.

  Snow made a soft sound that sounded like a sigh. Will you let me intrude your mind?

  Since Snow struck me a good, harmless being, I decided it was okay to let her do just that. Go ahead.

  I felt her the moment she entered my spiritual psyche. I just felt her moving there, pausing at certain places, and then moving again, before she stopped and said, Kimberly blocked you from accessing this particular memory, but I don't think he's done you any good with that.

  Do you have the authority to overstep a Deity, Snow? I inquired her. It seemed a little unlikely that she had, being so young.

  No, she admitted softly, but I do have the authority to act according to what I deem right. And you, Carla, need to know what this memory holds, not just because being a paranoid in your situation is a good move, but because, the more cautious you'll be, the better you'll do.

  I don't think I understand what you're trying to tell me, Snow, I told her frankly.

  What I'm trying to say, she said as a sudden burning sensation invaded my mind, as though she'd just ripped a plaster over a still bleeding bruise, is that the more knowledge you have, the better you'll do at bringing the prophecy to the next stage.

  And with those ominous words, I was suddenly reminded that, just a few nights ago, after Zack and I fought, a Deity called Michelangelo appeared and threatened me that if I went to Logia, he would find a way to get rid of me. He also said something about me being killed by his Hunters.

  Discreetly, I hid this memory from Khloe's probing mind, and kept the knowledge of what Kimberly hid from me – to make sure that I wouldn't be paranoid, I was sure, and what Snow thought was wrong for me, with which I absolutely agreed, despite being freaked out about it all – deep inside my mental drawer of things to be cautious about.

  And when we left Snow, after she bid me farewell, and Khloe returned back to sleep, I mulled everything over, went through every bit of knowledge I gathered ever since stepping a foot in Lumen, and contemplated plan after plan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I didn't think that once my life returned to some sort of normalcy, I would ever agree to fly in economics. First class was so much better, with a lot of space to stretch your legs, to lean back in your plushy seat. It was so comfy, even if I wasn't the one in charge of Khloe's body at the moment.

  Ever since yesterday, Khloe refused to speak to me. Because I didn't want to hurt her farther, I didn't even bother to ask if we could change places. It stung that she shut me out so harshly, but how could I blame her? She felt betrayed me, even though it wasn't my fault. Khloe was deeply mentally scarred as it was, and so begging for her forgiveness was out of the question at the moment.

  Mike and Zack sandwiched us between their heavy bodies. Zack seemed distant, his jaw locked and gaze hard as he stared out of the airplane window into the clouds outside. Mike was quiet as well, giving Khloe distance, and Khloe, too, sulked in silence, refusing to speak with anyone.

  That morning we'd departed Lumen, leaving behind everyone else in order to settle everything back to what it should be. Kimberly bid us farewell, even going as far as hugging Khloe and whispering into my mind that he wished for this mission to succeed. I couldn't thank him enough for the help and knowledge he gave me, but he didn't seem to be in need for me to be grateful so I didn't say a thing back but a simple "thank you."

  Now we were on the plane to Amarillo, Texas, and I couldn't help but begin to feel dread at what was to come. My sixth sense, the one that had been awoken to life and didn't really let me feel its presence since I'd resurrected the bunny, was niggling at me now, telling me that troubles were to come. I debated whether to tell Mike and Zack about it, but alas, the body was not mine, and so I decided to keep that little unnerving tidbit to myself.

  Some Khloe's thoughts slipped into my mind when the flight continued on. She was thinking mostly about the memories of her past, of Roy sleeping with her bitch of a sister Catie, and how she caught them going on at it in Catie's room. Then there was the nauseous memory of her walking on Roy screwing Noreen, Khloe's mother, from behind while her father was away at a late night shift in the diner. The worse memory of all, however, was the way Khloe tied the rope in the bathroom, feeling numb and empty, as she pulled the noose around her neck and let her legs slip from the tip of the bathtub.

  What bothered me the most, however, was that her thoughts seemed to be almost as hollow as the feelings she felt while thinking about her suicide. That sent a sense of renewed dread through my mind, and I was afraid she was beginning to descend into that horrible, lonely place again. But she had Mike, her mate, and that knowledge gave me the hope that she might be okay after all. Mike didn't strike me like the kind of man who would let his mate give up on herself.

  Twenty minutes before our arrival to Rick Husband Amarillo International Airport, I decided enough was enough. The silence was giving me chills of foreboding and I wanted to be in control of the situation. I needed to speak to Zack, too. I wanted to speak to him, to try and erase the wall that stood so heavy and clear between us.

  Khloe, I whispered hesitantly into Khloe's mind, may I please take over? I know you hate me and I know you think I'm a monster, but this monster has feelings she needs to convey to her mate, and she would very much like if you could give this monster at least that.

  I was almost terrified she wouldn't answer, but for my surprise and relief she did. Do whatever, Carla, she said, voice emotionless.

  Afraid she might change her mind, I did, and a split moment later Khloe replaced me in the dark side of our shared head, and I was in charge. I sucked in a breath, aware of both Zack and Mike's eyes on me as I did.

  The knew it was me now, but neither spoke of it. Still, I was determined to fix the breach between all three of us. I looked at Zack, whose emerald eyes were on me. "Zack," I whispered, pleading with my eyes, "I need to talk to you."

  He swore and put his head in his hand. "What do you want, Carla?" he asked almost archly. I winced.

  Still, he would not intimidate me, no matter how hard he tried. "I've come to terms with getting my own body back," I told him, hoping my voice wouldn't quiver, "and I'm slowly accepting who I am, who I'll become. It's all you asked of me, and now I'm doing just that." I tried for a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be happy with me?"

  He looked away, face tight. "You might say all that," he said harshly, "but how do I know you really mean it? How can I be convinced that when you get your body, you wouldn't drown in your own insecurities and leave me out of pure self-pity?"

  The sting of what was, in other words, a sort of rejection, made my chest tighten, and suddenly, I didn't care anymore. "You're such a prick," I said softly, tears welling in my eyes. "All you think is about yourself. What do you think I feel? How dare you think that I'm the one who would wallow in self-pity, when you're doing so right now?"

  His eyes snapped back to me, enraged. "You just don't get it, do you?" he hissed at me, his face suddenly inches away from mine. "You're my mate. I don't give a flying fuck if you look bad. Fa
ct is, you're my mate. You belong to me. You were always meant to me. You could be an obese for all I care."

  "But you don't even know me," I said, trying to make him understand. "You don't know me, you don't what I'm like, and yet you're so certain you'll still want me after I have my own body. Have you thought," my voice now cracked, "that you might not fall in love with me, mate or not?"

  "Mates are meant to each other," he almost sounded like a broken record, "you could be a bitch and I'd still want you, because you're mine. But you're not a werewolf," his voice became hard, "you're not one of my race. You can deny me the happiest thing a werewolf hopes for. You hold this power over me, and this thought..." he closed his eyes, face writhing in pain, before he looked away. "Just forget it, Carla. You won't understand."

  It would've been easier if he'd simply slapped me. "So you think humans, even Necromancers like me, have no feelings?" I asked, my hands curling into fists. "You think I'm unable to feel any depth of love simply because I'm not of your race? Last time I checked, Eve wasn't a werewolf, yet she and Ralph seemed to be happily together – "

  "That's a fucking bad example," he snarled, in my face once again. "After the recognition hit them, Eve bluntly rejected Ralph and fled him for decades before certain events brought them together. How can you guarantee that you wouldn't do the same to me?"

  And that was when I finally understood the depth of his fears. He'd told me, on the plane to Lumen what seemed to be ages ago, that he'd been basically rejected from his pack since he was so powerful. Until Ralph found him, before he'd been officially expelled, he probably licked his own wounds at being so blatantly denied by the people who were supposed to be his family, his friends, his comrades. He'd probably been hoping for a werewolf mate, one who would be just like him, one who would be just as eager to be with her mate as he was. Instead, life gave him a big fat "fuck you" when they brought me to him, in another girl's body, not entirely his, yet not completely not his. And then there was the fact I was a human, Necromancer or not.

  "Zack," I whispered, "you can't blame like this. You're no better than Khloe, blaming for something I didn't do, something I never meant for to happen. Please, Zack," tears blurred my vision. "You're more sensible than that. I've never asked to be born human. I've never asked for me to be stuck in Khloe's body. I've never asked..." my voice broke.

  I was so tired. So fucking tired of being blamed, of being judged, of being stuck in such a stupid situation. Why couldn't these people stop putting all the blame on me? Why couldn't they give me an inch to breath, to talk freely, and not be afraid to be tested for every move I made?

  Arm wrapped around me and I was pulled out of my chair onto Zack's lap. "I'm sorry," he said, voice strained as he embraced me, putting his chin on top of my head. "I'm so, so sorry..."

  A sob escaped me, then another, and suddenly I was weeping, shaking, in his arms. I buried my face in his chest, trying to seek safety and warmth in his body, and when he tightened his hold on me, my breath hitched and I cried harder. "It's not my fault," I whispered, my voice choked with pain. "It's not my fault..."

  "I know," he sounded torn, "I know, but if you... if you ever leave me..."

  "I won't, Zack," I whispered through the tears, clutching my nails in his shirt. "I won't, because before all of this went down, when we were on the plane to Lumen... I already..." I couldn't say it. I couldn't this vulnerable, this open to him.

  He tensed suddenly. "You already what?" he asked, voice quiet and low.

  I needed to say this, but I was so afraid. Zack had been furious with me for leaving him out of self-consciousness, and I knew that if I said it, it would give him the security he needed to feel, but I couldn't make myself say it, because...

  Because I wasn't sure it was true anymore. And that was the ugly truth. Because Zack hadn't been there for me when I needed him most. He hadn't been there when everyone thought me to be an enemy. He hadn't be there for me, despite calling me his mate and telling me I was his.

  He wasn't there for me. And that broke my trust more than I ever thought possible.

  So what did it mean? That whatever affection I felt for him before everything went downhill was gone? No, it wasn't gone. I still liked him. I still wanted him, still hoped for him to be there for me. But what would happen once something similar happened? What would happen the next time I exposed one of my fears to him, maybe even once I had my own body? Zack had his own insecurities reigning a deep, dark part of him. Would he allow me to soothe those insecurities, to help? Or would he push me away once I tried, or even showed mine?

  And I knew my answer then.

  Forcing my tears to come to a stop, I pulled myself instantly from his embrace and returned to my seat. "You're not ready," I said flatly, looking anywhere but at him. "You're still like the scared, abandoned child you used to be when you were excommunicated. Unless you try to open up to me about your own fears, unless you accept mine, you will never be ready for love, much less a mate."

  After that, Zack zipped his mouth shut, and when I dared glancing at once the airplane began to descend into the airport, I saw that his face was expressionless, blank. He'd completely shut everyone, including me, out.

  My choice was right. He couldn't hear what I truly felt just yet. Because if I told him that I'd begun falling for him before we even reached Lumen, there was no telling what would've happened.

  After we got out of the airplane, Zack volunteered to rent a car while Mike and I hunted for some tourist shop to purchase a city map. Once we had the map in hand, Mike asked, "Do you remember where your parents lived?"

  I nodded and pointed at the western part of the map. "Plains Boulevard," I said, "they most likely still live there."

  Mike sighed. "I think you're right about Grey."

  Shocked at the sudden turn of the conversation, I masked it by simply shrugging. "He's acting like a child, despite being twenty-eight."

  "True," he snorted. "And you were truly right about what you said to him in end. When I think of Khloe..." he glanced at me, trying to see if she was listening through my eyes, "I find myself wanting to tell her my secrets, wanting to expose my fears, to let her know what truly is there, what she would get when she'll have me. And I want her to do the same, want her to trust me that way. I would never lash out at her. I would never accuse her of having those fears. I would accept them, because I would do my best to understand where she's coming from."

  I had a feeling he wasn't exactly talking to me right now, but rather to Khloe, who, I realized suddenly, was in the same boat as Zack in this regard. "Why couldn't you be my mate?" I said jokingly, trying to life up the mood a little. "We're perfect for each other."

  Mike snickered. "Nah, both of us are too much balanced. We need someone to unbalance us. Zack is it for you. Only someone like you can put him in his place and then be there to offer comfort when he's ready. Unlike you," he added with a kind smile, "Khloe is perfect for me, because I always knew I would need someone to mouth off and sass away at me like she does."

  He was right. "Fate has chosen well for us both," I told him with a smile of my own. "Even if my mate is currently a brooding mess and yours is, well, also a brooding mess, I guess."

  Chuckling he ruffled my hair. "You're a good person, Carla," he said, "and I know Zack knows that, too. I think you're almost too good for him, to be honest. But he needs you," his gaze became serious. "He's acting so uncharacteristic right now because he's terrified of needing someone so much as he knows he needs you. And just a piece of advice," he added with a suddenly grave tone, "it might not be a healthy option, but in my opinion, you should refrain from showing him any weakness or disclosing any secrets. I think you should put Zack first right now, and once you help him with his own problems and finally have him solve his own issues, then you can put yourself out there. He might not be ready for love, but there's never a time to be ready to be a better person with the help of the person he may come to love."

  Mike's words rang in m
y head when Zack brought the rented car and drove us to Plains Boulevard. He was right, in a sense. No one could choose the time in which they would be finally fixed; it either came or it would come eventually. However, the thought of shutting my very own mate out in order to help him made me feel like a bastard.

  In this case, however, it might be the only option for Zack and me to ever have a future after this current mess was over. So I would have to swallow the bitter pill, take charge of this entire relationship, and begin stripping him bear, both mentally and physically if possible. Then... then we could focus on me.

  You'll be stifling yourself, Khloe's voice in my head surprised the hell out of me, but I listened, more than glad she was actually talking to me. Zack would be even more self-centered than he is now and eventually, he'll forget that you're a person yourself and begin relying on you like one relies on their parents. It's a big mistake, the biggest one you'll eve make.

  Afraid to chase her off, I decided not to ask why she was suddenly talking to me after everything she'd said and instead said, But as he is right now, he cannot bear to help me. He needs to be reassured that I'm not going anywhere, that I'm there for him, that I'm his mate in every way that counts.

  Be that as it may, Khloe's voice turned cutting, you still don't recognize him as your mate. Have you thought of why that might be?

  Of course, I replied, almost affronted, it's because I don't have my own body yet.

  Wrong, she said flatly, it's because, in fact, you're not the one ready for him.

  Her words made me freeze in the backseat of the car. But he recognized me, I whispered, almost afraid to hear what she might say.

  That's because he's a selfish bastard in his nature and he needs a mate to help him with his bullshit, her voice was almost pitying, but you, on the other hand, are independent, and so while he needs you, you don't particularly need him.