by Mia Wolf
Then I remember the first time we met, her hand snaking around my neck, and that dagger placed neatly between her fingers as if she knows it like she knows her shadow. That was the stance of a warrior who has trained under the sun for years.
The thoughts crash against my skull like waves against the cliff, and I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place.
You just don’t want to admit that it’s her. That’s when I realize how screwed I am.
Chapter 12 - Maya
It takes me a day to make up my mind, but at the end of it, I’ve decided that I hate Sebastian. There’s this feeling in my chest, this constant anxiety, some kind of fear of falling that he instills in me. Being in his presence feels like surrender, like letting go all sense of self-control, and it consumes me so utterly that I forget to be myself. If this wasn’t so overwhelming, so overpowering, if it didn’t make me feel so weak, I would’ve been okay with it. But I can’t bear to fall one more time, or I swear I’ll break.
The agony makes me run into the woods and unleash the bear side of me, which feels like it’s been trapped for centuries even though it seems to have come to life last night. In the heat of the moment, my control had slipped, which led to something so intoxicating that it feels like I’ll die if I have to live without it ever again, a thought I quell instantly. I feel unadulterated disgust at myself and remember Sebastian’s face from this morning. He looked so flustered, nothing like the man I saw last night, the man who seemed so close to me like I’d known him forever. In the morning, something plagued him. Was it our night together? Did he regret it? I would be lying if I said it didn’t pierce my heart to watch him leave, walk out on me while I was still naked under the sheets from our love-making the previous night. I felt betrayed, and I blame him for it completely. That might just stop me from capsizing in the stormy seas.
Under the mountain ash trees, I feel a sense of comfort, a sense that the woods will cradle me in their arms, safely nestle me into the crook of its neck just as Ma would. The sun is out of sight, and the gloom of the sky complements my mood. I strip naked because I don’t want my clothes to be ripped from shifting. When I’m ready, when I hear the woods calling me, I transform, sprinting uphill at a crazy speed. I feel my paws bouncing off the ground as I run across the woods, feel the cold wind on my fur and the power in my veins.
There are hot tears in my eyes that dry up as the trees whiz past me. Somehow, this sadness and hurt no longer seem to be my own. I remember the warmth of the sheets from last night, the warmth of Sebastian’s body and mine pressed against him. I would be lying if I said it didn’t feel comfortable, lying so safely wrapped into his arms, feeling the rise and fall of his chest like a soft song of the night leading me into a deep slumber. The moment, by all accounts, was perfect. Then why am I so flipped out? Yes, that fire between us is insatiable, but it might not be such a bad thing.
My paws land on the ground with a thud as I reach the mountain top and my claws graze against the dirt to come to a halt.
This is supposed to somehow cleanse me of what happened with Sebastian, this transformation right here is medicine for ailment. I hate feeling this unease, and to rid myself of the bittersweet memory of last night, I let my bear run free until it feels filled to the brim. It brings a sense of calm to my thoughts that I’d been craving, the sense of calm that comes with meditation, the kind of calm that my brain constantly fights because it wants to self-destruct.
Once I’m fully satisfied, I run back to where I left my clothes, still in my bear form, trudging through the woods like a mindless animal. It’s kind of fun because there’s no overthinking involved. You leap when you leap, and you stop when you stop.
I put on my clothes and walk back up to the top of the hill. I’m in the mood to watch the stars appear in the sky as night falls. Besides, there’s nothing waiting for me back home, and it’s a tiny gift that I can give myself.
As I reach my destination, I’m surprised to find someone sitting a few hundred yards away. I avert my gaze when the person looks in my direction; there’s enough space for both of us to be here.
A few minutes later, the stranger is approaching me; I can tell by his footsteps. I sit down quietly, staring into the distance and then up at the sky, but his presence is distracting. He’s getting close, and I have no idea why he would do that. Mentally, I prepare myself for the attack.
“Here to see the sunset?” the stranger asks, but his voice is very familiar; it belongs to the person I was desperately hoping to avoid. Why him of all people?
He sits next to me, and I get up to leave. “I’ll leave you alone,” I say to Sebastian without looking at him because what’s the point? We’re not going to take what happened between us seriously. And even though I hate to accept that I was a mere one-night-stand to him, I have no intention to see if there’s anything deeper between us.
Walk away, and it’ll be like we never met.
But Sebastian takes hold of my hand, and I don’t resist it like he is allowed some free pass to make me stay.
“Come on, don’t leave,” he says. It’s a harmless request; his voice is a whisper, a kind plea. It sounds enchanting, and I find myself complying. I have already forgotten all the turmoil that my contact with him caused last night; I’m already drinking the wine all blind-folded, already surrendering control.
I sit down next to him and watch the sky turn darker and darker. We don’t move, we don’t touch, we don’t look at each other. Neither of us speaks. I almost forget that I’m with someone else, watching the stars come up and twinkle. I observe the brightest one, pretending like it’s Ma looking down on me with a smiling face. I didn’t know that I could share such a quiet moment with a stranger like Sebastian.
Chapter 13 - Sebastian
Since that day we sat at the hill top and watched the stars, Maya and I haven’t exchanged a single word. I can’t bring myself to look her in the eyes. I still have to find out if she’s the Maya Venne Ford that I’m supposed to target, but my gut tells me I’m not going to like what I find. Then there’s the matter of the heart because I feel like there’s an invisible tether between us, connecting us in deeper ways than just heat-of-the-moment sexual tension. I can’t seem to forget her or hate her or move on from her even though it’s been days since we even talked to each other. It feels like the next time we do talk, it’ll be like we never stopped because that’s what the tether is for. We can be far apart but still connected.
It’s this bullshit that’s making me lose sleep at night. I stay awake painting landscape after landscape as if I could cast to one of those paintings so I won’t have to keep going on in the real world. So I won’t have to go back to Code Blue or talk to Daniel ever again. And so I won’t have to be afraid of loving Maya or, my thoughts pause and in the pause, my heart starts pounding like a mad dog, I won’t be afraid of losing Maya...
Sadly, the paintings don’t swallow me whole, so I still have to pretend to be alive in the real world. Perhaps I can check if Maya is at home right now. If not, I could take a chance to slip into her house and see what I can find on her. It might just be wishful thinking, but if there’s any chance that it’s her that Code Blue is looking for, I’m in a whole lot of trouble. But what’s worse is that she’s in a whole lot of trouble.
I step out of the house and see Maya and Warren talking to each other. Maya is sitting on her front porch; they seem to be discussing something important. When both of them turn their heads in my direction, my stomach lurches. There’s no way they’re not talking about me. The question is what he’s telling her about me? If he’s telling her stories about our drinking raves, I’m going to bash his head in. He has spilled enough beans on me that I have a reputation around the village already. People avoid me like the plague on the streets.
I walk up to the two of them, and they go silent by the time I’m standing next to Warren.
“What’s cooking so early in the morning?” I ask, crossing my arms.
They both
comically shrug at me. I look at Maya first then at Warren then back at Maya, narrowing my eyes at them in suspicion. What were they gossiping about?
“You seemed to be discussing me,” I say accusingly.
“You’re a bit full of yourself,” Warren says flatly. Maya remains quiet.
I turn to her. “Can we talk?”
She slowly blinks at me as if she can’t be bothered to take me seriously then looks up at Warren. I look at him, too, and see him vigorously shaking his head at her.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Doing what?” He acts stupid like he often does when we’re sober.
When we’re drunk, he’s like a completely different person. So much so that I prefer him drunk. We’re almost strangers when we’re sober because the same thing is true for me. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth as I remember how it used to be, how we spent mindless nights, getting stupid drunk on bottles of whiskey until we dropped on the floor or were ushered out of the bars for overstaying, way past closing time. We had pain to bond over, hitting rock bottom together like pebbles tumbling down a cliff, hitting stones on the way as they fall.
I don’t know how we got here from there. We haven’t had a single drink together since his mating ceremony, so I don’t get the point of running into him or even making small talk. We have nothing left to say to each other, and I hate the smug older-brother-air he puts on every time we talk as if I’m a wreck he’s liable to clean up.
“Stay out of this,” I warn him with an edge to my voice that surfaces every time I talk to him nowadays. There’s a special bitterness I harbor only for him. I don’t know what it is, but I would like him to stop wasting both of our time if he’s not going to get shit drunk every other night.
It’s lousy drinking all alone. I often prefer the misery of staying sober and having to live than to find myself at the bottom of a bottle all alone.
“Out of what?” he asks.
“Stay out of our business.”
“We have no business,” Maya retaliates. My focus shifts to her.
“We definitely have some business,” I insist. “We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Maya says and gets up, storming into the house.
I follow after her when Warren stops me.
“Don’t cause trouble, Sebastian. I won’t save your ass like I used to when you got into brawls. I don’t know why you’re here, but if you’re here for what I think you’re here for, I will stop you. So don’t test me.”
He looks at me like he knows what I’m thinking. There’s that expression on his face, that plea to my dark side to stop wreaking havoc. If only it were that simple. I scoff at him in response; easy for him to say. That look tells me that he thinks he’s so much better than me now when only a year ago, we were both emptying our stomachs after drinking too much. Now he’s supposed to be a saint?
“You don’t know anything, Warren,” I say, gritting my teeth. “And you sure as hell don’t know me.”
I follow after Maya, leaving Warren behind along with the bitterness of the past.
Maya doesn’t look happy seeing me. Aren’t I a delight to be around; I seem to bring only frowns to people’s face.
“Who told you that you could come in?” There’s a calmness in Maya’s voice that irks me. It’s the same kind of calmness that’s in Warren’s voice. How is it fair for them to look so unperturbed when they rile me to my core?
“Are you going to pretend that nothing happened? Am I supposed to be complicit in this charade? Because I don’t think I like that idea very much,” I say and stare at her, seeing only coldness there. Now I’m left thinking that all that ferocity was in my head. Like we both committed a crime, and she gets to walk away scot-free while I serve time in my mental prison for the both of us, for all the wrongs I’ve done.
“Alright,” says Maya, and for a moment I feel like my silent pleas have reached her, but then her expression turns to a much darker one. She’s not the woman I held in my arms but the lethal warrior that keeps a dagger handy on her. “I admit that something happened between us, something intense. I don’t deny feeling that.” She pauses and clears her throat. “I don’t deny that there’s that electric charge between us that doesn’t make any sense. It’s strong, but I don’t want to indulge in it. It’s stupid, and it makes no sense, and I don’t want to be at the mercy of my base instincts like an animal.”
The way her mouth curls in disgust at the word animal tells me everything she thinks we are in each other’s company. It riles me up, but do I disagree? It’s a very primal hunger, and there are no two ways about that.
“So, you want to pretend like we don’t know each other?” I ask, hoping she can hear the hurt in my voice.
“I didn’t say that. That would be unnecessary. But we can pretend that there’s nothing special between us. It’s not entirely a lie; there’s not much special between us anyway.” Her eyes are unblinking, and her resolve is as solid as iron. I keep losing this argument; what can I say? What I want to say is that I hate this idea, and I don’t need to do what she asks.
But that’s not what I say. I weakly nod my head and look plainly devastated until something clicks into place.
“You’re right,” I say. “We’re nothing to each other.” I storm out of the house and bang the door shut after me.
If this is what she really wants, then so be it. I pull my phone out and text Ash, “I’ve got a lead.”
Chapter 14 - Maya
My morning meditation goes well; the deep-seated calm in my mind makes me love being in there, in my own head. It’s not a prison that I can’t escape, a prison of my own making where every thought tightens the loop, the shackles keeping me chained to the past or the worries of the future, the monsters of my own device. No, it’s freedom.
Somewhere between birth and growing up, you forget how to cry when it hurts, and you hold onto the pain, the misery, and the suffering of your past. You keep it close to your heart like it’s a treasured possession and slowly but surely it catches up to you, and by the time you notice what happened, your mind has already turned into solitary confinement.
I know this well because my masters taught me this. Free yourself, Maya. I know this, and yet I’m imprisoned, holding onto the shackles for dear life.
I don’t sour my mood any further; my mind is calm right now. However fleeting this moment may be, I relish it. Hopefully, it stays.
In preparation for the day, I stick the dagger into the scabbard strapped around my thigh, under the red tunic. I grab a water bottle from the kitchen counter and pack it in the brown cross-body bag. The image of Sebastian gawking at the canary in my backpack conjures up, and I promptly push it away, but it does remind me of the canary.
On my way out, I pick the bird up from her basket where she’s been pecking at the seeds that I had given her the other day. I examine her wing, but I can’t tell if it’s healed until the bird flutters her wings while still in the palm of my hands.
Alright, ready to lock and load.
I put the canary in my bag on my way to the woods. Sebastian is on his way somewhere too. Our eyes meet briefly, then we both turn our heads at the same time; the hurt of the rejection stings, but I’m glad he’s keeping his end of the bargain. I didn’t think, or perhaps hope, it would be this easy for him to do. It just goes to show how meaningless that tether between us was. It was nothing, and we’ll go back to being strangers in no time.
I saunter away, resisting the temptation to cast another passing glance in Sebastian’s direction as I mentally prepare to train.
In the woods, the cold is starting to creep under my skin, like it usually does these days. I move my body around, stretching my hands and legs to get the blood flowing. Then I take the canary out of the bag and place her on my palm again. She looks so fragile even after days of rest. The good news is that there’s some movement in her wings.
I raise my hand above me and keep the palm flat, giving the bird room
to fly away. She flutters her wings to practice then lurches and takes to the wind. She drops then flies up again, then drops a little more then flies back up. One of her wings is fluttering much faster than the other; she needs some more healing. I leap and catch her in my hands when her wing finally gives, and she plummets to the ground.
I scuff my arm and knees, which are bleeding from grazing the forest floor. The pain is immediate. I lift my head up as the dust settles and see the canary safely perched in my hand. She walks off, trying to take flight again.
Something fractures in the universe it seems when the physical pain that I feel from the bruise somehow morphs. It seems to be emanating from my chest, pulsing as though I might die of a heart attack. It comes unbidden, breaking the walls, wedging its way into me. Then I remember where it’s coming from; it’s from seeing Kai on the day he was attacked on a mission to protect some village elders. His face was all smeared with tears, blood gushing out of his belly as he lay in my arms, unmoving and in unbearable pain.
“Who did this?” I remember screaming, but it came out weak because I was bawling as the realization that Kai was slowly leaving me hit me, that when daybreak would come tomorrow there would be no more life in his body. “Who did this?” I repeated, but he only smiled at me and with weak hands caressed my cheek as if apologizing for leaving me. It hurt so much because I wasn’t ready for this separation. It broke my heart when his hand fell. I could see that it came as a shock to him as it dawned on him that his life was leaving his veins, his breath leaving his lungs.
All the fight left me, and I was pleading to Kai, to the universe, to anything or anyone who would listen. “Don’t go,” I chanted, five, ten, fifteen times until it lost all meaning.
No amounts of crying or begging to the universe to make this go away worked, and as Kai’s head fell from my lap, I let out a screech that echoed in the woods.