The feeling of impending doom had been unwarranted. The path rated as easy to moderate for a norm, which meant painless for pre-lab Andy.
“I’m not letting you off this easy,” he said, gaze twinkling.
We ran the loop multiple times, stopping only for sets of burpees, lunges, mountain climbers, and squats. Wick didn’t pull any punches.
Jerk.
With sweat dripping down my entire body, as if I’d taken a dunk in the ocean instead of a “light workout,” Wick called an end to the training when we reached the summit for the umpteenth time.
The view stunned me.
Framed with the crisp green peaks of evergreens, North Beach sprawled beneath us with its easy curve and gentle rolling waves. The wind brushed against our faces, and my breathing slowed, going from heaving gasps to mild air-sucking.
Wick turned to me. His skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. It would disappear soon, but the sight gave me comfort. Perspiration dripped off my face and ran down my spine to pool on my lower back.
My body sang with energy. For the first time since escaping the SRD lab, a sense of composure, of returning to my former self, slid through my body. I shot Wick a wide smile.
His gaze smoldered.
I glanced away.
Tristan’s words from a life time ago, from a moment in my life when fate placed me in a position to choose between two potential mates, and they both actively pursued me, called to me: There is more than one potential mate in the world. More than one person can complement our predator and self. A mate is not half of one soul, but a match for it.
Heat flushed through my body. Tristan had been ripped from my life almost three months ago, after only a short time together. The sudden finality of it all still hurt, like a festering, deep stab wound. Sometimes, when I lay in bed, a scent so similar to his, the one laced with honeysuckle on a warm summer’s day, trickled into my room and surrounded me. Almost as if I’d open my eyes to find him standing by my side. Yet, every time I bolted upright, aside from Wick curled up protectively beside me on the bed, only an empty room greeted me. Even if it was Tristan’s ghost, I didn’t sense anything malicious about the presence. I felt approval, warmth, and love.
Tristan’s written words from his letter tumbled back to me. Find happiness. Find love. Live a long, full life, and know I will always love you.
Tenderness spread through my body. Wick moved closer, his arm less than an inch from brushing my sticky bicep. His rosemary scent swirled around me like a caress, mixing in with the salt of the sea and pine of the nearby trees.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Andy?”
“Mmmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
My eyes pinged open. Without glancing over, I knew Wick watched me, but instead of turning toward him I took in the mist below as it rolled in with the tide, and whispered through the forest. “Shoot.”
“Did you mean that?” Wick asked.
“Mean what?”
“What you said to Sonny last night. On the beach?”
I froze. So Wick had heard the conversation with my brother. Since he hadn’t spoken of it, I’d hoped he hadn’t. Of course, he had Were hearing, but we’d been far enough away from the path when we stopped talking. Or at least I thought we had been. My brows pinched together.
What exactly had he heard?
“I heard Sonny caution you about running headfirst into revenge.”
My shoulders drooped. One, I hadn’t realized I spoke the last thought out loud, and two, I remembered what I said next. Wick shouldn’t have heard that.
The Alpha continued. “You said that you didn’t care. That if you died, at least you’d be with Tristan.”
Silence met his statement as I continued to stare at the long expanse of beach from our high vantage point and refused to meet Wick’s intense gaze, the one threatening to bore a hole through the side of my head.
“Did you mean that?” he pressed.
“Yes.” I looked down at my hands. “No.” My fingers had twisted together on their own accord, almost knotted to the point of pain. “I don’t know.”
Wick waited.
“At first, yes. I loved him, Wick. I still do. And a part of me always will. But…” He wasn’t the only man I loved.
“But?” His voice cracked.
My throat clamped up, and I couldn’t say the words echoing in my soul. I swallowed and continued. “He wouldn’t want me to just wither and die. He said as much in his letter. He wanted me to go on and make a new life. And I feel guilty for saying this, but…” I looked up through bleary eyes. “I want to make a new life, too. Not just because Tristan wanted me to, but because I do.” I patted my chest. “I’m not broken. I refuse to be. I—I have more to give. I have… I’m not…”
Wick stepped forward and pulled me to his body, pressing me against his tense muscles. His warmth sank into my numb skin, and his strong arms wrapped around me. His chest vibrated against my upper body with his heavy heartbeat.
As he held me and blocked the cold elements, his limbs relaxed and tension released from his body. Originally, I’d thought this hug was for me, to comfort and console. The longer we stood at the lookout, with Wick’s face buried in my neck, breathing in long drags of my scent, the more I realized this moment was just as much for him.
Chapter Eighteen
Goodbyes are hard to do
“I looked up my family tree and found out I was the sap.”
~Rodney Dangerfield
With my skin slick with moisture, half from the bone-numbing rain, and half from the cold ocean spray, I stumbled into Sonny’s cabin, exhausted, yet refreshed from my morning run.
Wick stood in the small living room, his packed bags waiting at his feet.
I came to an abrupt halt. Sonny, who’d been running close behind, crashed into me. We both staggered forward with a thud.
“Wha—?” Sonny caught himself on the corner table and stepped to the side.
Wick’s mouth twitched, but the humour didn’t reach his sad, chocolate gaze.
“You’re leaving?” I asked, between deep breaths. Maybe some of that moisture was sweat. Maybe more than a little.
Wick nodded. “I have arranged for you to keep the truck as long as you require it, but I need a lift to the airport.”
“I have to go to work,” Sonny said. The lodge he worked for sat on the Tlell River, and although he headed in the same direction as the airport, he wouldn’t make it there and back in time for his shift.
Both men turned to me.
Sonny shifted his weight from foot to foot, his brows furrowing. More than once, he glanced at the window. Probably wanting to fly away. I didn’t blame him.
Wick couldn’t leave. I—I needed him here. He’d spent every night since the hotel sleeping beside me—his large, warm presence reassuring and calming the restless, lonely part of me that craved my feras. He never tried anything, never gave the impression he wanted to. No, he’d simply offered comfort, and safety.
Wick cleared his throat.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, now numb from something other than the weather. “Of course. I’ll drive you.”
Wick picked up his bags. They swished against the plain wood flooring. He turned to Sonny and held his hand out. “Thanks for putting me up.”
Sonny clasped his hand, but looked as confused as I felt. Sure, we’d been here for a month, but with no news from back home, we didn’t have any information to act on. Why did it seem like Wick now had somewhere urgent to go?
Or someone else to be with.
****
The silence in the truck’s cab threatened to choke me with its thickness. Wick’s sugar and rosemary scent filled the confined space, but carried little of his emotions. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think a sociopath sat beside me.
His gaze flicked to me as he drove, and his knuckles whitened as he clutched the steering wheel, yet his lips remained firmly pressed together. When he pul
led into the small airport, he put the truck in park, left the keys in the ignition, and turned to me.
I took a deep breath and angled my shoulders toward him. My skin prickled and if my falcon still lived in my mind, she’d screech. My mountain lion would pace, and my wolf would howl. Wick had been a friend in my darkest hour. Someone to depend on. And now, without warning, he planned to rip himself away like a used and unwanted bandage.
Confusion rippled through my mind. Our moment on Tow Hill had been a couple weeks ago, and although nothing notable had happened between us since, certainly nothing bad occurred, either,
Wick dropped his hands from the steering wheel, and his shoulders relaxed. A small smile played at the corners of his full mouth, but once again, the emotion didn’t reach his chocolate gaze.
“Andy…” he started.
I waited, frozen, not wanting to breathe. Wick acted like this was goodbye forever, not just for now.
Maybe it was.
I gulped.
“I think you are in a good place,” he said.
I nodded while my mind reeled. Why shouldn’t Wick leave? It’s not like I gave him any indication he had reason to stay. I had nothing to offer him, nothing to give but a broken shell. Why would he stick around for that? Did I even want him to? Wishing for Wick to stay was selfish.
“I need to go home for work, but I know you will be okay here. Heal here.” He reached over, grasped my hands, and gave them a squeeze.
“I think so,” I stammered. “Thank you for seeing me safely here, and…for being here.” I gulped. “For me.”
Wick nodded and released my hands. He ran a hand through his hair. “I want the best for you.”
But.
He hadn’t said that word, yet, but something in his tone implied its eventuality and made my muscles tense.
“I’m a call away if you need help.”
I nodded, body still shocked. It hadn’t recovered from the run followed with the surprise of Wick’s leaving.
“If you need a friend.”
My head jerked up. Wick’s dark gaze focused on me, unwavering, unyielding in its sad resolve. A friend, and nothing more.
My soul ached.
Again, what did I expect?
Again, what did I want?
No miraculous answers came thundering down into my mind. Instead, I remained hollow and numb.
I nodded like an emotionless bobblehead, feeling a cold wave of fuzzy prickles spread from my spine out to my limbs.
“I want to be really clear, Andy,” Wick continued. “I will always care for you, and my wolf will always want you, but I’m not waiting for you. You’re still healing. I need to do what is best for me, and the pack. They can’t afford to have me here with you while they remain vulnerable. Now that you are safe, I can return to my responsibilities.”
His wolf flashed yellow in his gaze. Those words must be cutting Wick up inside. Despite how he might feel as a man, his wolf had already declared me his mate. If Mel gleaned information from the pack bond correctly, his wolf would never accept another so long as I lived. If Wick wanted to move on, it meant putting distance between his wolf and me.
“Andy?”
I nodded, yet again, and sniffed. “I get it, Wick. I do. I never wanted to hurt you. You deserve the best for you and your pack.”
Something flashed across his gaze, his eyes narrowed for a split second. Had he anticipated a different response? One more agitated? Argumentative? Had he wanted another response entirely instead of my spineless one?
He shook off whatever emotion hounded him and somehow blocked the responding scent from escaping. He popped the door open, and I mirrored his actions. We met at the back bumper.
“Thanks again,” I mumbled.
Wick pulled me in for a brief hug, took a deep breath, and quickly stepped back.
Had he smelled my hair? Before I could ask, he reached into the back and hauled out his luggage. The bags scraped against the metal.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said.
I sighed, and some of the tension flowed out of my muscles. My brother had the land rights to build a resort in a beautiful area on North Beach. Once he got his act together after losing our parents and bouncing from foster home to foster home, he started saving. With an extended lifetime, he finally had enough. He planned to leave his job at the lodge and start building in a couple of months.
For our entire stay, Sonny had hashed out his plans with Wick, a very successful building developer, and the two hit it off. Wick probably planned to help with the project in some capacity, so this wasn’t goodbye forever. It couldn’t be. I was probably overreacting.
None of this rational thinking explained the sense of finality clinging in the air or the sinking pit in my chest as I watched Wick walk away from me. Again.
Chapter Nineteen
The cold, hard, truth
“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.”
~Buddha
Another month passed without word from Veronika, Lucus, or Wick. Kayne Security Solutions and the Wereleopards answered all my calls with great patience and understanding, but even through the phone, their strained voices gave away their frustration. Maybe calling them every day for an update on their investigation was a bit much.
“We’ll contact you as soon as we hear anything,” Olly said, tone soft and reassuring.
“Okay, thanks.” I said goodbye and hung up. Avoiding Sonny’s knowing gaze ranked pretty impossible given his small accommodations.
“Cozy,” is how he referred to his home, and as a bachelor, he felt he didn’t need more. I agreed, and although we bumped into each other more than once, I’d grown to love this place, with its quiet energy amongst the raging elements outside.
“Where’s Tank?”
Sonny laughed. “Playing. He finds these storms amusing.”
I nodded and silence descended on the cabin again.
“You need to let it go,” he said.
“Let what go?” I kept my back to him and turned the kettle on to make some tea. Tea! This crazy brother of mine had me on a detox to cleanse my body and soul. When he suggested dropping my morning coffee, I snarled at him. Must’ve been pretty scary because he dropped the subject and never brought it up again.
Come to think of it, he tiptoed around me in the morning and didn’t speak to me until I finished my first cup.
Huh. Smart man.
I pulled the mugs out.
“All of it,” Sonny answered after a long pause.
“All of it?” I whirled to face him, mugs in hand.
“Is there an echo in here?” Sonny raised a dark eyebrow. “Yes, all of it.”
As if his words flicked an invisible switch, rage flooded my body. “Just let Christine go to rejoice in the pain she’s inflicted?” I shrieked. “Forget my friends and let them rot wherever they are? Leave the Pharaoh to concoct another master plan for world domination?”
“Yes.” Sonny stood in one smooth motion. He closed the distance between us and gently plucked the mugs from my hands. He placed them on the counter.
Did he worry I’d smash them? As my breathing grew shallow and my veins warmed, Sonny moved out of striking distance.
Smart man, indeed.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I seethed.
“Hear me out.”
I took a deep breath and forced the tension from my muscles.
“Ben and his den are responsible for the deaths of many, many people. They might not have killed anyone directly, but the mistake of Ben’s apprentices and Ben’s lack of supervision cost a lot of innocent people their lives. The Elders won’t kill them because they didn’t intend for the deaths and were tricked by a powerful Demon, but many, especially the friends and families of the dead, would argue they deserve punishment. What is a few extra months compared to the death of a loved one?”
I snarled. His question
hit way too close to home.
Sonny smiled sympathetically. He spoke the truth, but it didn’t make it easier to hear.
“And Christine?”
Sonny nodded. “Your anger blocks your ability to heal.”
“My anger.” I thumped my chest. “Is what connects me with the beast.”
“Now that’s a dysfunctional relationship.”
I rocked back on my heels.
“You need to truly embrace the good and the bad aspects of the beast. You’re not separate entities. You are one.”
I am you. You are me. We are one. The mantra of my feras echoed through my veins. As Feradea explained it, the beast, and all my unique skills were essentially remnants in my DNA from my divine heritage coming out to play. Or have a laugh.
“You can’t keep the beast caged like some twisted monster only brought out when you want to turn into a raging green fiend,” Sonny said.
“First, my beast is a beautiful ebony.” I flicked a finger up. “And second, the chemicals block me, not my anger.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I bit back my response. Calling my brother names wouldn’t solve anything.
“And…” Sonny’s voice drifted off. He gazed outside, taking in the cloudy sky. Not a great day for flying.
The absence of my falcon’s knowing shriek sank a pit in my chest. “And?”
He shrugged.
Well, crap. I’d only known Sonny a short time, but I’d learned his tells. He had something to say, and he knew it would hurt.
The words from my SRD mentor Donny trickled through my memory. “You will be hurt, Carus, and maybe not in the physical sense.”
Sonny sighed. “Have you thought about what would’ve happened had Tristan lived?”
Heat flared up in my stomach, burning a path through my lungs. I swallowed it down. “Careful.”
Sonny held his hand up. “I’m not saying he deserved to die, and I don’t make this point lightly.”
I growled.
“You told me he was ancient, and on his way out of this life. You showed me his letter. He didn’t know how much time he had with you, but he couldn’t resist the mate call. Had he lived, he would’ve eventually hurt you.”
“He’ll hurt you in the end,” Angie’s voice whispered in my mind. She’d tried to warn me. At the time, I thought she was just being a bitch.
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