by Ellis Marie
As I say it, I already know the answer as the pieces all click into place.
Mrs. Grenway.
The date is just after her funeral. She’s still looking out for us.
“They both knew something was going on,” I mumble, looking over at the sleeping boy. “They had a backup plan in case the worst happened.”
His mother had been away for weeks, yet he never told me. Was he trying to hide it from me or did he not want to worry me? Have I been such a bad friend that I’ve been blind to what he’s going through? Where has he been staying? Who has been looking after him? Has he been alone all this time?
The paper in my hand crinkles as my fingers curl, and that’s when I notice that there’s a second piece behind it, one that I hadn’t seen before.
My eyes widen as I read its contents, Scarlette looking over at me expectantly, waiting for me to divulge.
“There’s a second ticket.”
I read over his name again, making sure that I’m not seeing things, but it’s there in big bold letters.
Passenger 2 - Cameron Reid
I check over the details again, comparing them to the one for his mother. They’re the exact same—date and everything.
“He was meant to go,” I whisper, lifting my head to look at Scarlette’s, whose eyes are watching me carefully. “He was meant to leave, he was meant to be safe.”
I turn to the boy on the bed and stare at his bruised cheekbone, my thoughts jumbled together in confusion. There’s a ticket for him. That means that he was meant to go with his mother. He is meant to escape this place and be safe, far away from hunters or packs with a grudge.
“Why didn’t he go?” I ask, not knowing if I’m speaking to myself or to Scarlette. All I want is for Cam to open his eyes and explain to me what’s been going on.
“I think that’s pretty obvious,” Scarlette answers, her voice laced with soft amusement. When I look at her, I see that she’s still staring at me like she’s waiting for the penny to drop.
“He stayed because of me, didn’t he?”
She doesn’t answer. Honestly, I don’t expect her to. I’m barely listening anymore. My thoughts have taken over my attention, memories of us swearing to always look out for one another overwhelming me as the realisation of how serious this is comes over me.
My eyes are now back to Cam, and I’ve discarded the papers onto the bed, encasing my fingers in his hand as I bring them to my lips.
Always. Even when I was barely speaking to him or caught up in my own life, Cam is still always looking after me. Protecting me. And now, he’s here and he’s hurt because he chose to stay. Because of me.
I cross my arms in front of me and rest my chin on them, my eyes watering as I hold onto my best friend, my endless love that I have for him swelling in my chest.
“You’re such an idiot,” I whisper to him, getting comfortable at his bedside. I feel Scarlette leave the room, but I still don’t take my eyes off the ginger-haired boy that has been protecting me my entire life.
As my fingers brush through his hair and I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, I can’t help but smile a little.
“Now, it’s my turn to stay and look out for you.”
***
I wake up to someone softly rubbing my shoulder, their grip light but harsh enough that it pulls me from the dreams I’ve lost myself in.
Blinking away the fuzz from my sight, I realise that I’ve fallen asleep at the side of Cam’s bed with my hand still wrapped around his. He’s still not awake, but the marks on his skin seem to have faded a little.
“Elle.” I turn to see Trent standing over me, his eyes soft as he crouches beside me. He trails his hand from my shoulder down to my elbow.
“What time is it?” I mumble, still half asleep.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Trent explains, spreading out his palm over my back in soothing circles. “I figured you should sleep in a bed and not a chair. You’ll regret it tomorrow.”
I hesitate at his request. I don’t want to leave Cam, but I also know that he’s right. We have school tomorrow, and I’m no use to anyone if I’m grumpy with kinks in my neck.
“He’ll be knocked out until his body finishes healing itself. There’s really nothing you can do. We can check him in the morning.”
All I manage is a relaxed nod as I stretch my arms and yawn, my eyes fluttering close almost automatically.
“Come on.” Trent chuckles as I feel his arms wrap around me. Almost immediately, my own return the movements. Before I know it, I’m clinging to him and rising up from the ground.
He carries me as if I weigh nothing; although I suppose, to him, I probably don’t.
“Does the pack hate me?” I ask quietly, my mind slow but my worries still at full power. “I’m sorry if I got you in trouble with them.”
“Don’t be silly, Moya Solnishka.” He chuckles, pressing his lips to my forehead as we begin to climb the stairs. “They’re all excited to properly meet their luna at some point.”
I want to feel relieved, but if anything, it just makes me more worried. Am I going to be able to live up to their standards? I’ve already forced them to go against their rules once for me. What if I can’t be what they need? What if they resent me for it? What if they resent Trent?
“Elle, I can literally feel you panicking,” Trent comments as we reach his bedroom, carefully lowering me to the ground while I try to avoid his stare.
He notices and reaches to gently tug my chin around. “Mon coeur, look at me.”
I listen to him, allowing myself to steady against him and let him see the panic and concerns in my gaze. He takes a breath, holding me up straight as the sleepy fog lifts from my mind.
“You are utterly perfect,” he tells me, his gaze unbreaking. “Whether you believe it or not, you are. You’re made to be my mate, my luna, and this pack’s leader alongside me.”
“But what if I can’t do it?” I whine. “What if I make a mistake or someone gets hurt?”
“Elle.” He laughs, shaking his head and kissing my knuckles. “You don’t have to get it all right the first time, no one is expecting that, but you’re going to become the best luna this pack has ever seen. I know it.”
My heart flutters at his words, the kindness behind them calming my nerves, but the truth that I can see also makes my heart race. He has so much belief in me.
“I should probably check on Kristie,” I say, stepping out of his hold, my blush bright.
Trent’s lips curve up into a smirk as he takes a few steps backwards. “I think she’s more than fine.” He chuckles before opening the door to my bedroom silently.
He waves a hand for me to look. When I peer past him, I see my best friend splayed out like a starfish taking up the entire bed as soft snores echo out to us in the hallway.
I stifle my giggle as he shuts the door again, the click of it cutting off the sounds she’s making.
“Good to know she feels safe in this house,” I joke. Trent smiles more.
“Well, not to brag, but I do think we’re a pretty great hotel.”
I laugh at his joke and roll my eyes, punching his arm softly. “I hope you’re keeping a tab for me, so I know how much to pay you when I move out. I’ll even leave a good review.”
He grins at my joke, but it changes to something deeper. His eyes sparkle as he runs a hand through my hair.
“I hope that you don’t view this as a hotel,” he teases but the tone slips. “I hope that for you, this is your home.”
My breath catches in my throat. I struggle to string a sentence together to respond to him.
I already feel like this is my home . . . that Trent is my home, but hearing him say it makes it all so much more real; it makes all of this real—my feelings for him, this world I’ve joined, this love that is like nothing I have ever experienced before.
For the first time in my life, I truly know that I can call this my home.
Words escape me as I pull
myself into him, latching my arms around his neck as my lips find his. I kiss him softly, hoping that he knows that I’m doing this because I want to and not because I feel like I have to.
His arms feel like home. His lips feel like home.
I realise that whatever happens, wherever we go, Trent is my home.
“You know,” he breathes, our lips parting only a fraction to let him speak. “Kristie said she was up really early, and if you go in and wake her, she might be a bit annoyed.”
I try to hold in my smile as I raise one of my eyebrows at him, watching the cheeky flash of his teeth in the low light.
“Oh you’re right,” I agree with a fake pout. “Whatever will I do?”
“Well . . .” he drags out, rubbing his nose against mine. “I do know someone who has a free half of a bed that they wouldn’t mind sharing because they would really like to wake up next to you.”
As his hands curl into my sides, I feel my heart jump and the tingles shoot through me. The soft scratch of his stubble under my fingertips making the hairs on my arms bristle.
“Oh really?”
He nods in reply before his lips plant themselves on my neck, featherlight kisses moving across my collarbone. A sound of agreement echoes from his mouth.
“Well, that sounds perfect,” I agree. He pulls back to grin, stopping the assault on my skin. “I’ll go find Cole’s room then.”
The smile drops from his face in a blink. I squeal and jump out of his hold, running into the bedroom before he can catch me. A warning growl leaves his mouth, and I giggle as I run to the other side of the room, placing the bed in between us as he closes the door behind him.
“I’m not sure if I enjoy how much you and my beta get along,” he jokes, his eyes dark as he prowls towards me.
“Oh, so now, Cole is just your beta?” I point out. “Has he lost the title of best friend or something?”
Standing across the bed from me, Trent leans forward, resting his hands on the mattress and the lump in my throat rises.
How attracted I am should be illegal.
“When it comes to him being in a bed with you?” He furrows his brows. “He doesn’t even get an ‘acquaintance’ label.”
The scream leaves my lips as he springs forward and grabs me, pulling me into his body and then rolling us onto the mattress. My limbs flail as he tickles my sides.
“Okay, okay!” I giggle, grabbing his hands to stop their assault on my body. “I won’t mention your ‘beta’ again.”
Trent accepts my words and wraps his arms around my waist as we lie beside each other, the laughter dying from our bodies.
I don’t know exactly how long we lie there, just looking at each other as our fingers trail over our features. It’s peaceful—something that I’m not used to in the middle of the night. I’ve grown so used to always staying a little awake, of locking my door and preparing to fend off nightmares. I’ve never considered the middle of the night as something that could possibly become my favourite time of day, but now, it quite possibly is.
It’s just Trent and me. No pressure of packs or werewolves, exes, or hunters. Just us—completely alone and honest.
“Can I ask you something?”
Trent’s hand stills in its movements. I almost don’t want to ask it. I know what he’s going to say, but I need to hear it from him; I need to know the truth.
“If that rogue today hadn’t been Cam, would you have let him live?”
I know the question causes him pain. He tries to hide it, to keep his features neutral, but the slight crinkle on his forehead and the way his jaw locks is a dead giveaway to his real reaction.
The silence drags out between us, and I let out a shuddered breath.
“Why?” I ask, trying to search his face for clues. “Why are rogues punished for being born without a pack?”
Trent rolls onto his back with a sigh, his hand catching onto mine at the last moment so it rests on his chest.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Explain it then,” I urge, sitting up on one of my elbows. “I just don’t understand how you can have such hatred towards people who have done nothing wrong other than being born into the wrong family, so I need you to explain it to me.”
Trent bites his lip as he chews over my words, eyes locked on the ceiling above him.
“It’s not that they were born without a pack, it’s that they weren’t brought up in a pack. From a young age, we all rely on each other to learn how to help our family, how to help each other with changing, with the struggles of it all. Our pack keeps us grounded, keeps us sane, but rogues?” He shakes his head, lowering his voice. “They never learn it. Their wolf is left to have full control, to be a ‘lone wolf’ as it’s so affectionately referred to. That means that their animal side is far more out of control, and they’ve learned to only look out for themselves. It goes against everything we stand for.”
I frown at his explanation. Maybe some wolves are like that, but Cam has grown up with me by his side and he’s always looked out for me.
“That’s not fair,” I argue. “How can you know that without giving them a chance?”
“Because it’s what we’re taught.” Trent shrugs. “Packs hardly ever fight each other, but you can ask any one of them and they’ll at least have one story about being attacked by rogues. They hate us as much as we hate them.”
I open my mouth to respond, to continue to argue, but Trent cuts me off by pulling me into him.
“I know that Cam isn’t like that, and you believe him to be good, but that doesn’t mean he will be the same to us. He cares for you and looks out for you, but with enough time, every rogue gives into the feral nature that they’re born with. It’s just the way it is, Elle.”
I stay silent, not because I believe him or because I’m giving up, but because I can see that tonight we aren’t going to fix this. We aren’t going to come to an agreement. I need to do it slowly, to show him that people aren’t everything they appear to be.
“I’m just saying that if we all thought like that, then I would have never even spoken to you,” I admit, wrapping my fingers into his shirt. “East Bay and all that. Sometimes you have to look past the biased view that you’ve been told.”
I can feel his heartbeat under my hand . . . or well, heartbeats. I remember the story Scarlette told, of two hearts inside one chest, of the story of first mates and how they helped each other.
Maybe this was why I’m his mate. Maybe I’m meant to try and bridge the gap between the two, not only with the pack’s view on rogues, but maybe also the view that they have of Trent.
Mates are all meant to be about balance and what the other needs. Maybe they all need someone to show them a different way. Even if I manage to just change Trent’s view, that would be enough.
“You’re far smarter than I am,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss into my hair. “And a much better person too, but some things can’t be changed.”
We’ll just see about that.
We fall asleep talking about old memories and legends of the pack—something that I’m very interested in. I want to know everything there is to know about these incredible creatures and this world that I can hardly believe I’ve become a part of. Trent tells me about legends of the moon goddess, of wolves saying how they have seen her or felt her presence, of dreams in which they swore they have spoken to her in their times of struggle.
I’m not sure if I quite believe it, but it seems that Trent very much does; apparently, they all do. Maybe it would be nice to believe in something.
When I wake up with arms wrapped around me, I freeze. Not because I’m scared or have horrible memories flooding my head like I have grown accustomed to, but because I want to relish in the feeling of waking up in the arms of someone I truly love for the very first time.
It feels perfect—the sun streaming in at the right angle, the birds outside singing. Our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.
If I were to
die right now, I would be content.
Trent’s arms tighten around me as he stirs, burrowing his nose into the crook of my neck as he inhales deeply. I can’t stop the smile stretching across my face when I hear his soft hum of happiness.
“Good morning, mi vida,” he croaks, his voice scratching with sleepiness.
“Good morning, my handsome mate.”
He hums again, pressing his lips into my skin. I wiggle slightly as his stubble tickles my shoulder.
“If I could, I would choose to never leave this bed.”
With a grin, I turn myself around to look at him. The breath in my lungs gets knocked out as I take in his ruffled appearance and hooded eyes. My mouth is only getting dry because I’m dehydrated, I swear.
“I refuse to get up.”
My mouth pops open as he turns his back to me and buries himself into the covers, the quiet mumbles of discontent muffled by the material. I shake my head at his antics but lie back down, choosing to instead spend the time tracing the sketches on his back. It has been a while since I’ve really looked at them.
Now, the tattoo makes even more sense. The woman above has to be the moon goddess and the two wolves below . . .
“It’s my brother and I.”
My fingers still tracing as Trent speaks, the lump in my throat growing at the beautiful tribute. I lean forward and press a kiss into his back, snaking my arms around his hips.
“It’s gorgeous,” I mumble into his skin, feeling his fingers curl around mine. “It must have been painful.”
There’s a pause.
“I’ve felt worse.”
My heart breaks at the thought of him suffering, of going through pain. He’s the last person in the world to deserve it. If anything, the things I have learnt about him only makes me believe that he’s too good for the life he’s been given; he deserves better.
I’m almost tempted to snuggle in closer, to let the two of us waste time in bed instead of having a productive day, but when my eyes flash at the clock, I know that we shouldn’t.
“I believe we have school to attend, Alpha,” I tease, squeezing our hands as I press a final kiss to his shoulder before trying to entangle myself.
