by H. D. Gordon
She turned on her heels and stalked away, disappearing around a corner. Gio went to the carriage door and held it open for me. I gave him a nod as I climbed in, hoping that I would not live to regret allowing Paisley Ward to keep her life.
I wanted someone to talk to.
I couldn’t admit it to a single soul, but I was not in the best of ways. I wasn’t sleeping for longer than a couple of hours at a time. I wasn’t able to eat to my fill, food turning bitter in my stomach after a few bites.
If I was being completely honest, I wanted to see Eli. I wanted to tell him what was troubling me and have him listen, and then respond in that logical and measured manner he always seemed to maintain.
Instead of reaching out to him, I shut myself off from that possibility even further by keeping myself busy and pouring over the business with unbridled fervor.
This had me spending more time at the factory, and it was Kyra who mentioned the Demon after my fourth straight day in a row of overseeing her operations.
We were standing in the office overlooking the factory floor, when she said with feigned casualty. “How’s Elian? I haven’t seen him around lately.”
I felt my back stiffen but sniffed and flipped through the parchment I was examining. “I’m sure he’s fine,” I answered.
Kyra was silent a moment. “Have you spoken with him?” she asked.
I sighed, lowering the papers and meeting her eyes. “Not as of late. Why?”
Kyra shrugged, pretending to go over her own stack of papers when I knew my friend well enough to know that I had her full attention. “Seemed to me like you really liked him, like he might have been a good influence on you.”
I leaned back in my seat, the papers in my hands fully forgotten. “Is that how it seemed?”
Kyra nodded. “Indeed it is.”
My eyes narrowed. I chose my next words carefully, because some part of me recognized that she was only trying to help, that of all people, Kyra always just wanted whatever was best for me.
“What are you trying to say, Ky?” I asked.
Kyra shrugged again, but she met my eyes when she spoke. “Just that maybe you should go see him.... Or don’t.” She gestured around us, as if to encompass everything. “It’s up to you.”
Chapter 14
My hands were sweaty, my pulse racing.
I was being absolutely ridiculous.
I’d done things in the past, faced circumstances that would send most people running in the opposite direction. Through it all, I’d always managed to keep a firm hold on my nerves and emotions. Why the hell should paying Elian a visit make me so nervous that I almost couldn’t do it? Why should this be any different than anything else?
Because it just was. That was all there was to it.
I told myself for the millionth time to stop being a coward, and finally worked up the courage to get it over with. I told myself that the worst thing that could happen was that the Demon would reject me, would say in no uncertain terms that he was well and truly done with me. Admittedly, this was pretty bad, and I’d even gone to the trouble of preparing myself for it so that I could control my reaction while still in his presence. I may have been swallowing a certain degree of pride to come to him now, but I’d be damned if I’d let him see me crumble under his rejection.
And, I reminded myself, perhaps he would not turn me away. Perhaps he would accept my apologies and welcome me back. This was a possibility I hoped for, but dared not reassure myself of.
Just making my feet move in the direction of his loft was an effort. I told myself on a loop that I was Dita fucking Silvers, and that if Eli rejected me, I would take it like the Alpha that I was and just get the hell over it. I’d thought this rejection was the worst that could happen.
I was wrong.
I made it all the way up to the final staircase that let into his home, and paused in my tracks on the stairs when I heard the door to his loft open, and a sultry voice slipped out.
“Same time next week?” asked the female.
My heart, as cold as it often claimed to be, sunk twelve inches in my chest. My throat seized, and I could do little but stand where I was, out of sight of the female above, but well within earshot.
“Sure,” came Elian’s cool reply.
I wanted the stairs to open up and swallow me as I heard them share a kiss. The door shut, and the female came trundling down the stairs. I meant to turn away, but she found herself eye-to-eye with me.
I knew from her physicality that she was a Fae, and a stupidly attractive one at that. Her hair was mussed, her makeup just a touch smeared, but worst of all was the scent that clung to her.
His scent.
Whatever look was in my eyes made her avert her gaze quickly. She said, “Um, excuse me.”
I forced myself to step to the side, and then watched her as she made her exit, glancing back at me only once like the fucking weirdo that I was.
Now, I know that I had been entertaining myself with other men in Eli’s absence, knew that I really had no right to be upset, that I was the one who’d walked out on him. But all of these things were logical understandings, and logic held no place in the arena of romantic affections.
I stood in the stairwell for several moments, trying to gain a hold of myself and failing. I told myself that I should still climb the rest of the way and knock on his door, just talk to him for Gods sake. But I could no more make my feet move in that direction than I could force a fish to fly, and so, feeling even worse than I had before I’d come here, I turned away, slinking into the shadows of the night with a heart as heavy as stone.
I walked along the canal for a bit, studying the reflection of the moonlight in the water, giving myself a talk that was perhaps a little overdue. The truth was, I’d gained all the material things, all the money and power that I’d spent so many years working to obtain, and now that I had it, I was not happy. Hell, I was less happy than I had been when poor and powerless and broke.
It was ironic, because when living in The Mound, in that tiny hut we’d called a home, I’d thought that if I could just earn more money, just gain more influence, I would be happy. And now that I had it, I’d learned that happiness is not something that can be found, but rather, something that has to be produced and cultivated internally. And whatever internal mechanism there was that created it, mine seemed to be broken.
I didn’t know what any of this meant, didn’t know what to do with it, so I returned home with feet dragging. When I reached the plantation, however, I squared my shoulders and lifted my head high, ever aware of the observation of the Pack.
Because no one wanted to follow a weak leader. No one wanted a tortured Alpha.
It seemed as of late, no one wanted me at all. Devon had left. Kyra was distant. Eli had obviously moved on.
And, in truth, I couldn’t even say I blamed them. I was having a hard time stomaching my own damn self.
As promised, Devon did return a handful of days later, and I was glad to see that my brother looked better for it. In his absence, I’d come to the conclusion that I’d asked too much of him, that what I’d had him do had gone against his very nature, and that he would likely not have acquiesced at the request of anyone else.
I told him as much when I had him alone. We were sitting on the back porch, a fire pit warming the air around us. The rose gardens adorning this part of the land had grown brown a week or so ago, and the ground was hardening with the coming season.
“I’m sorry,” I said, after sipping some of the shine-laced cocoa Cora had brought me. “I won’t ask something like that of you again.”
Though I knew there could be prying ears, I spoke the words aloud, because apologies tended to carry more weight when done that way. Devon was silent for a long while, and I knew in that moment that asking him to help me kill the Wards had deepened the rift between us. My heart ached with the thought, and I could only hope that I would be able to repair it.
Finally, he said, “Thank you.”
I expected him to add something to that, but he didn’t, so I took it for what it was, and we sipped our shine-cocoa the rest of the time in peace. I wished I could do the same with Elian, that I could just go apologize and make things a little better between us. I shoved this thought away as soon as it surfaced, because I’d resolved to let the Demon go, and not to hope for his return to me. I could only take so much emotional unrest at one time, and that between us was proving not to be the least of it.
I felt vulnerable, and as a female in my position, this was perhaps the very worst way to feel.
I glanced out over the land when Devon went inside, leaving me alone on the back porch, searching for solitude in the familiarity of the trees, the grasses. I drew a sharp breath when I spotted glowing golden eyes staring back at me.
My heart stalled, and I could hardly move as I recognized Lucas Borden, the Mad Wolf in his beast form; dark fur missing in patches thanks to the scars from his burns, marring his body and face.
I blinked, and he was gone. Again, I could not be sure that I’d seen him at all. In fact, I was pretty sure at this point that my mind was playing tricks on me, that the Mad Wolf was an aberration of my guilt and unsettled state. I had dozens of Wolves wandering these grounds at any given time, and one was sure to pick up a scent or something if Lucas really was appearing out there.
Still a little tipsy from the shine and uneasy from everything else, I set my mug on the table near my seat and stood, stretching before shifting into my Wolf form and heading toward the place where I could have sworn I’d seen a ghost.
Chapter 15
There was no Mad Wolf in the woods near the house.
Of course there wasn’t.
I needed to get a grip on myself, to think clearly. I may have cowed any dissent or attacks for now with my public display of brutality, but it would be foolish to think I was safe. It occurred to me that if I chose to stay in this position I’d found myself in, that I may never be safe.
Today was a good day, though. It was the grand opening of the children’s home I’d been renovating in Cerys. I’d spent nearly a year working on this endeavor, getting the permits, securing the contractors to do the renovations, overseeing those renovations. Now, finally, on this cold, gray winter morning, I would open the doors to all the orphaned youth of the city, and give them beds, meals, and education.
I was sure the public believed that I’d taken on this project as a way of masking the monster that I really was, as my other businesses and status were clearly not secrets. But the truth was, I’d always had a soft spot for children, and seeing the homeless kids in the shadows of the street corners in Cerys never failed to tug at something inside of me.
Not so long ago I’d been poor myself, living in a veritable dump and struggling to survive. It seemed to me unjustified that I should have so much while others had so little, and the whole of it went some distance in soothing my increasingly conflicted soul.
The building I’d chosen for the institution was one of the oldest in Cerys, large and imposing and made of dark gray stone. Though it was only two stories, it spread over five city blocks. The dwelling area ringed the outside, leaving a lawn in the center that would be green and lovely come spring, but was brown and leafless for now. Come spring, I would hire a gardener to make the place more pleasant, as I knew well how surroundings could impact mood and behavior.
I strolled through the halls before the arrival of the others, doing a final check of the work that I’d had done. New paint and flooring and lighting, new furniture and adornments had all gone a long way in turning the place around. There were one hundred and fifty rooms that could sleep two or more, if needed, and a large kitchen and common area.
I’d also had one of the rooms done over into a library, and it was here I paused as I stared up at all the books I’d stocked the shelves with. There were three additional rooms now filled with desks and blackboards and other educational materials, so that the children could enrich their minds while having a steady place to live, a safe place to sleep, full and hearty meals to eat.
This all went some way in soothing the discontent within me, and when the doors opened an hour later, and the children that had wanted to come had been gathered and let inside, the looks on their little faces were balms, no doubt.
But it would be a lie to say that I did not look around the crowd that had gathered outside, and feel a sharp pang of disappointment to see that Elian had not come. He’d been integral in this project, had guided me through the process of approvals, the court proceedings. He’d even been passionate about it, saying over and over how great it would be for the children, how wonderful for the city of Cerys.
Elian did not show as I took to the podium that had been set up for me to make a short speech, was not among the visitors who crowed over how nice the place was, how very noble I was for having done it.
Of course, my family and Pack were present, and I’d taken pains to ensure that there would be no surprise attacks, as the image of my father hanging from the rafters at the harvest celebration was still fresh in my mind. The Wolves discretely patrolled the blocks and grounds, and I’d even had Kyra cast a few protection spells so that we’d know if anyone unsavory came near.
The whole event went off without a hitch, and for the first time in a long while, I felt good about myself. I thought maybe that the worst was behind me, that in doing what I’d done, I’d secured myself a position that gave all those who might think of challenging me pause. Perhaps Delia had been right about the idea that I’d done what I’d had to, that we were better off for my lack of mercy.
Even Devon had kind words for me. He stood beside me as we watched the children stream into the building and claim rooms for themselves. They were shy at first, but it wasn’t long before that timidity subsided and their excited squeals, giggles, and the pitter-pattering of their feet filled the space.
There was a trunk at the end of each bed in each room, and inside was clean clothes and new shoes. Devon and I stood in the doorway and watched as a young magic user and a younger Demon dug through the trunks and exclaimed in delight with every extraction they made.
The little Demon, a boy of no more than seven, turned to me with wide eyes. “We get to keep this stuff?” he asked.
I leaned against the doorframe, grinned and nodded. “Yes, sir. You sure do.”
The child cursed in joy, and I couldn’t help another smile.
Devon spoke beside me. “This is a good thing you’ve done, D,” he whispered, watching the boy with the same expression of wonder I was sure was on my own face.
I swallowed, not realizing until just that moment how much I’d been missing his approval, his praise. “Couldn’t have done it without you,” I said.
Devon nodded once, so slight a movement that it was almost imperceptible, and I didn’t need to ask to know that he was thinking of the blood that had been spilled to get here, the sacrifices made.
“Where’s Elian?” he asked.
I released a low sigh, shrugged.
I could feel Devon’s eyes on me, and I turned my head to look at him.
“You guys done, then?” he pressed.
“Seems like.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Doesn’t matter how I feel about it.”
Devon’s brows lowered. “Dita, of course it does.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to this, so I said nothing.
The rest of the day passed without disruption. The children were allowed to bathe and dress in their new clothing. I’d spent weeks interviewing teachers and caretakers, and could see now with the way the chosen ladies interacted with the children that those efforts had been well worth it.
By the time I was in the carriage and on the way home, I had to admit that I felt accomplished. Maybe I’d done my fair share of foul deeds, but I’d also done some good ones, and I supposed that was all a person could hope for. I comforted myself with the idea that most people were both
good and bad, depending on the situation and circumstances. After all, no one was the villain of their own story, and I was tired of feeling like the villain of mine.
Devon rode in my carriage along with me, and when we veered off away from the direction of our house, I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that it took me a while to realize where we were going.
I looked out the window and saw the familiar canal, then back at my brother.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’re going to see Elian,” Devon answered. “I’m just making sure your stubborn ass gets there.”
I was tempted to both punch my brother in the face and jump out of the moving carriage like a lunatic. “We most certainly are not,” I insisted, rising from my seat to give the driver new orders.
Devon caught my wrist, holding it with a strength that he rarely exhibited. “Dita,” my big brother said, “you’re one of the most fearless people I know…but this, talking with the male you love, terrifies you. I get it. It’s scary. But you need to make things right with him before it’s too late.”
I was so shocked at this that for several moments I couldn’t think of a response. I lowered back into my seat, my heart heavy again after having been lifted by the day’s success.
“First of all, I don’t love him. Second, I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” I admitted.
Devon met my gaze square. “Yeah, well, you won’t know until you try. And you can lie to yourself all you want, but there is no point in lying to me.”
I shook my head. “What makes you think I want to talk to him?”
Devon’s lips pushed to the side in an incredulous expression. “He had a good effect on you, D. He made you happy. You don’t have to admit your feelings to me, but you should to him. Swallow your damn pride already. It would be a good skill for you to develop.”
