Alpha Clinton holds his position on the overstuffed chair. His body sinks into the cushions. He makes no move toward me. He holds himself still, bristling slightly. He just gives me a look, a hard stare, but he doesn’t say anything.
Everyone is watching, waiting until I settle down in order to approach us.
“Come and sit here.” After a few moments, Luna Grace pats the seat next to her on the couch.
Taking the seat, our arms are touching, as if she is providing me with her strength. She understands how hard this is for me.
“I remember when we brought Clayton home, I was so nervous having wolves around him. It gets easier. The first time is the hardest.” She’s trying to be reassuring.
Dallas gives him kisses on his head and cheek before giving him up to me. He takes a position at my feet on the floor. His arm resting on my leg, he gives a gentle squeeze as he looks up at me, smiling proudly.
Alpha Clinton is the first to start. He approaches slowly, trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible, which is impossible. The wolf in me gives a little warning growl but settles down instantly when he flashes his wolf’s eyes at her for just a second.
He comes in sniffing deeply, touching and nuzzling the little one gently with his nose before he backs away for someone else to meet him.
Cash picks up Dee in his arms. He comes up to us walking softly. The little female in his arms looks at the newborn in wonder. Her little hand goes out before Cash holds it in his hands and gently shows her how to touch him.
“Nice touches, can you give Chance a kiss?” Her mouth opens big, as she touches her mouth to his head.
Cash then nuzzles my male gently with his nose, taking in his smell.
Caleb is the next to follow, bringing the little male with him. He’s rough in the way he carries him almost sideways, but Ken looks like he loves it.
“Be nice, gentle.” Caleb holds the male’s hands as he strokes his face with gentle hands.
“Kisses.” Both Caleb and Ken kiss the male I’m holding before backing away.
This is all repeated by the other brothers. All showing me how gentle they will be with him for now.
The twins crawl toward Dallas, pulling themselves up on his shirt. He grabs the male and tosses him high in the air before catching him; for the female, he tosses her not as high. He’s gentler with her; with the male he’s rougher. It’s funny how they get treated the same but just a little different.
I wonder how they will like it when she grows up and wants to party in the basement? All fun and games when you have males in the house, but when a female is concerned, it all stops.
Different standards.
“Would you like to meet him?” I turn toward Belac and Treajure. Caleb doesn’t even look their way. Instead he turns his back on them, pretending to be interested in the twins more than his own mate.
A tight tension is felt between them that wasn’t there before.
“I’m not really good with pups,” Belac states, as if she’s somewhat afraid to approach. She’s starting to put on a small amount of weight from her heat, along with Treajure, who is filling out her sharp corners nicely; her lips look fuller, redder. She’s got beauty to her that is underlying. All you have to do is look at her to notice.
Too bad no one does.
She approaches, guiding Treajure along with her. Both bend down, taking his scent in before stepping away and going back to their spots on the couch. It’s quick.
“He’s beautiful,” Belac remarks before sitting down.
“Thank you.” I think he’s the most beautiful pup I have ever seen, but that’s just me.
“We have the nursery all set up when you feel comfortable putting him in there. Caleb gave up his room for your little one. For now, we have a crib set up in your room,” The Luna states with eyes that shine.
“How’s the house coming along?” Dallas questions Caleb.
“Good. They’re all moved in. I put some boxes in your room to go through. I couldn’t bring myself to throw out some of the stuff.” He gives Dallas a hard look before he looks away.
“I’ll go through it,” Dallas says, and everyone’s eyes turn slightly sad over this.
“You need to come over and see what I did with the place.” Caleb seems proud of himself. I’m not sure if I can go over there. The last time freaked me out.
“I will,” Dallas says softly.
Looking around the room, seeing all the pictures showing family, a gallery of documented time. From little pups to big strong males. I notice Kennedy even has a place on the wall along with a picture of Maysa, bright green eyes framed by dark raven hair.
She’s beautiful.
It’s a picture of them holding each other. She looks so happy, and so does he. I feel slightly guilty sitting here with his male in my arms while she’s holding their male inside her.
Looking at Dallas, his eyes are on me, watching where my eyes were. He says nothing to me as he looks at her, taking a deep breath before smiling at me, slightly. I know he said that he is over her, that he’s ready to move on, but is he really?
Can he love me more? He says he can. I’m not sure where all these doubts are coming from. Maybe I’m just hormonal from the birth.
I still look at all the pictures. Not one of me hangs on their walls. It’s an irrational thought, but it’s still a thought. I’m not on the wall.
Luna Grace takes him from my arms, holding him, nuzzling him, cooing her soft voice in his ear. She gets up, placing him in everyone’s arms for just a short time. Getting me used to having others hold him. I wonder if her mother did the same thing when Dallas was born?
We sit this way for at least an hour as he’s passed around to all the wolves here. Even Treajure takes a turn; she leans into his ear, a whispered word so soft it’s lost even in the silence as we take her in. Belac watches her in silence.
Once Chance makes it back to me, I’m somewhat settled down. Dallas, the whole time, was rubbing my back, my leg, whispering in my ear, “It’s okay, no one will hurt him, we’re all family here.”
Chance starts to grunt, rooting around for something to eat. His grunts start to turn into small whimpers until they are loud cries with real tears. He’s putting on a good show for them.
“I think it’s time for me to feed him.” Getting up quickly from the couch, I take my pup from the family, thankful to get away.
“I’ll come with you.” Dallas starts to get up off the couch.
“No, you stay. I’m just going to feed him. I’ll be back down soon.” I’m slightly shaky at the moment, and I don’t know why. My words come out harsh toward him; it’s like a light switch is turning on and off.
My emotions sway back and forth.
They all give me looks of confusion as I leave but say nothing. Dallas gets up off the ground, getting ready to follow me, but I stop him with a look.
He does pause for a fraction of a second but doesn’t listen as he follows me up to his room.
My chest is sore and swollen with the anticipation of his thirst. Chance fumbles around with lips that aren’t parted enough. I take him off, only to place him better so his latch is open mouthed and wide.
He needs to learn to get it right or else he will hurt me with blisters and cracked nipples if he’s not on me placed properly.
Finally, he settles in for a good feeding, his little body molding into mine, skin on skin, our bonding becoming stronger and stronger with each passing hour. He drains the first, only to move on to the second, his hunger nothing but pure greed. The little belly distended and firm as he fills himself up with mother’s milk.
Once done, Dallas takes him from my arms, burping him, changing him, swaddling him in his blanket, before placing him in his crib. He’s already asleep again. Brand new pups are so easy to care for. After the pup’s needs are taken care of, Dallas turns to me.
“What’s the matter, Rya? I can tell you’re upset about seeing that picture. Talk to me. What’s upsetting
about it? Do you want me to take down her picture?”
“No, don’t do that. It’s nothing.” I rock in the chair that’s been placed in the corner of the room.
“Obviously it’s something. Just talk to me. I can’t read your mind yet, so tell me what’s the matter.” He goes between my legs, stopping the rocking motion with his knee.
“We need to talk about the things that make us upset.” Pulling me off the chair, he sits down and positions me on his lap. He begins to rock us slowly, back and forth, as if we’re on a boat that’s lazily drifting on the waves in the noonday sun.
“Rya, she’s part of my past, but like I said before, you’re my now!”
“I know, sorry I’m emotional.” He has my head on his shoulder as he rocks us both.
“Do you want me to take that picture down? I’ll do it if you want.” His fingers glide back and forth on the inside of my wrist.
“No, it’s okay.” I should not be jealous of the dead. It’s not like they can come back and take him away from me.
“Are you sure? Just tell me if you’re not. I will take it down, but I want you to know that she deserves to be up there. She has done nothing wrong. She is still part of the family, just like you are. She died, Rya, she died. She is no longer here, but I just can’t pretend she never existed. We had a life together, we did, and now we have a life together.” His voice is choking in his throat, clenching so tight it’s hard for him to get his words out as his fingers fall onto my shoulders.
“No, it’s okay.” It’s then I see the boxes piled high with memories of their life together.
We don’t have boxes of memories, but we do have a living and breathing life that we made together who will give us our memories.
“I think I’m just tired. I haven’t had a lot of sleep in the last few days. So I’ll just take a nap until he wakes up. Is that okay with you?” Picking me up like a young one, he puts me in his bed, pulling the covers up under my chin.
“Get some sleep. I’ll get you for dinner. Please don’t worry, Rya, the past is the past. We need to concentrate on what’s right in front of us.” He gives another kiss before walking toward the boxes. Picking them up, he takes them out of the room, turning off the light before he closes the door.
I can’t sleep. My mind won’t calm down.
Vibrations on the bedside table alert me to a call. It’s either my mother or him.
No one else calls me.
Looking at the screen, it’s Clayton. I think it’s time to tell him about my Chance.
“Hello.”
“Rya, where have you been? I kept calling you, but you didn’t answer. I was getting worried about you.” His voice seems slightly relieved.
“I’m with Dallas, back in their pack.”
“Oh.” His voice has a downward angle to it, almost a disappointment in it.
“I have something to tell you.” He doesn’t deserve to know anything, but I should prepare him.
“What is it?” He doesn’t sound like he wants to know.
“I’m going to let Dallas mark me. I just want you to know.” I owe him nothing, yet I tell him anyway.
“Hello?” A long pause of silence. He says nothing back to me for a while.
“Rya—” He pulls the phone away. I can hear a quiet little intake of breath as if he’s trying to hide his heartache from me.
“I had this hope inside me that you would come back here one day.” His voice cracks again over the line. He takes a calming breath.
“We would start out as friends. Get to know each other as friends first. I have this dream about us that I think about constantly. It’s the first thing I think about in the morning, the last thing I think about at night. I thought after some time away, years even, you might come back here for a visit. We would start out slow, but eventually, you and I would end up falling in love. It’s a stupid dream, isn’t it?” His voice is heartache.
“Clayton, you were the one to give me no chance in the first place.”
“Rya, I understand everything I have done to you. I go over everything in my mind over and over again. Trust me. I understand completely what I have done to you, but I do have dreams about the future. I can still dream, can’t I?” I pause because who am I to tell him he can’t dream? He just can’t dream about me anymore. He lost that chance to dream big.
“I just thought you should know to prepare yourself.” He’s sobbing quietly now.
“Before he marks you, I want you to ask him a question.” His voice is trembling. I can picture giant tears coming down his face. I hear something breaking in the background, as if a glass is shattering against a wall.
“Before he marks you, ask him this one question. Who does he walk with when he goes to the moon, her or you? Ask him this question. If he says you, he lies.” My throat tightens on his words.
“When I go to the moon, I will be there waiting for you, Rya. I will take your hand when he has hers in his. I have been doing so much thinking, and I realize that my only chance is when we go to the moon. I’ll be there waiting for you to get there.” He’s crying, and I start crying too, because what he says is the truth. I’m Dallas’s fraud in the now, but in eternity I’m just a fleeting thought that kept him company for just a brief amount of time until he is reclaimed by her.
Dallas comes inside, looking at me oddly.
“What’s the matter, Rya?” He sits down on the edge of the beds.
“I have to go.” I hang up before he says anything more to me.
“Rya, what’s going on?” Dallas has my face in his hands, thumbs wiping away my tears.
“I have a question to ask you.” The tears won’t stop. How can I be so jealous of a female who’s dead? Because deep down I understand in death she will have him again.
“When we go to the moon, who would you choose to walk with, her or me?”
“Where is this coming from? Is it because you saw her picture? Rya, don’t do this.”
“Answer my question, Dallas.”
“That’s not a fair question, is it, Rya?”
“Tell me please.” The shaking increases throughout my body when he hesitates with his answer.
Chapter 26
What We Are Taught To Believe
A tidal wave is crashing down on my soul the more time goes by without him answering me.
My throat feels torn out; it’s impossible to breathe.
Vocal cord sounds are hysterical sobs.
Dallas watches me, waits, and listens as I start to rant on and on, with waving hands.
Pacing back and forth, finger pointing, accusations thrown his way. He stands there, never wavering, taking everything I’m spitting his way, standing tall, strong, as if he can bear all the bricks that I’m hitting him with.
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.
“I am the lie in your life!” Another volley of words that seem to just spike out of my mouth, continuing to beat against his solid chest.
He’s iron that will not bend.
Pointing at my heart, I cry, “I’m not a lie!” These are old wounds that are splitting apart. The fabric of my life is coming undone.
The unjust card has been dealt, fate’s cruelest tricks.
I have been taught since I was a small pup that when you find your mate, you will walk hand in hand in this life and together in the moon’s embrace for eternity, never to be alone.
For me, nothing is possible. I will constantly be rejected up there no matter who I choose. The only one to wait for me is Clayton, and I don’t want him to be there waiting for me.
“Why me? All I ever wanted in life was to be loved, to be put first. Is that so much to ask for?”
He’s listening to me come undone.
My currents of emotion are a tide flowing in, only to spew out a hurricane of fury that is jumbled together as he’s holding onto the ship, riding out my waves.
He’s a patient captain, knowing the storm can only last so long.
�
��I deserve to be first; I deserve to be loved! I won’t do this with you. I can leave. I don’t need you; I don’t need anyone but him. He’s what I need. I don’t have to settle for second best. I would rather be alone than know that I’m just being used for company. To fill a void left by your dead mate.” I smack my hand on the dresser, wishing it was his face. I know one thing: I am raging mad, tears of anger, sadness mixing themselves together as he watches me break down.
“What happens to me? What happens when I go to the moon and no one is there for me? Is this fair to me? Is this how I have to live my life, knowing that when we part you will turn your back on me, forsake me? I’m good enough for this life and the next. I’m worthy to be someone’s first.” I wipe away my pain, my heartache, that just keeps pouring out of my eyes.
My ribcage feels brittle with the way it wants to collapse inside itself. A slight pain starts throughout my body. Is this real heartache?
I thought I knew heartache.
Taking deep breaths in, I try to calm myself down.
Once my pointing finger lays limply at my side, he comes to me.
Closer and closer. He doesn’t hunch his shoulders; he keeps them straight with his head held high.
I’ve had my tantrum.
He’s the casualty of what my words have left. Never can I take back what has been said. We can move on from words, but never can I take them back.
“Rya, I’m not sure what’s going on here. When I left you to nap, you told me you were fine. When I come back in the door, I’m met with you accusing me of things that I have no control over.” He’s an even calm.
Facing me head on.
“Just answer my question.”
“No matter what I say, it will be the wrong answer. No matter what I tell you, it will be wrong. Do I walk with her or you?” He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling me on his lap. I try to move away, create space between us.
“I listened to you; I let you talk and talk. My turn, Rya.” His nose touches my neck before he pulls his face away to look at me in the eyes.
“Maysa was my mate, Rya; there is no changing that. I would never change that, ever. Just like I will never change the fact you are my mate now. You are what the moon has given to me as a second chance at happiness. She has gifted me with you; I’m not sure why. I have asked her this many times, but she doesn’t answer me back. This question you ask seems as if the rest of our future depends on it. This question has no solution to what you seek.” He’s holding both my hands now, gripping them firmly in his.
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