“I’m here to see my mom.”
“Okay. Uh, well I mean you can see her anytime, honey, but maybe…maybe not in the state you’re in,” she says slowly, taking in the creased jeans I pulled out of the dirty laundry, my rat’s nest hair that I put up in a bun this morning because I didn’t have the energy to bother brushing it, and the coffee stain that dried down the front of my white shirt hours ago.
I look like shit. I can’t deny it.
The absolute worst part is I don’t smell much better either. I haven’t brushed my teeth because I couldn’t find my toothbrush, and what little bathing I did in the shower consisted of dumping shampoo on the mess that is now my once-luxurious hair and not much else.
I don’t think I even picked up the soap or razor to clean up. Just didn’t feel it this morning.
“I don’t know you,” I point out, sounding dead, as I sigh tiredly and glance at Mom’s room where she’s in her usual spot in the comfy chair by the window.
She looks like I feel, empty, so I guess the saying is true: Like-mother, like-daughter.
“Mika…dammit! Look, I, uh, my name is Julia. You met me a few weeks ago at the coffee shop. Remember?”
“Yeah. I think. I don’t know,” I admit, the dull void inside me washed away as panic and desperation hit me again.
The feeling is so strong I double over at the hips and gasp, gritting my teeth when tears start streaming from my eyes.
I don’t want to cry! But I can’t really call what I am now doing crying since I have no sounds to go with it.
My tears just flow, as if my heart is breaking, and I have no control over it.
A noise disturbs my self-pity, and before I know what’s happening I am wrapped in a pair of surprisingly strong arms and being herded outside, back into the fading afternoon light and towards the big oak tree, where a picnic table is sitting in the shade.
Julia helps me sit with a tenderness that makes the tears come faster and turns away, almost running for the home. I don’t move. I can’t, I am so drained, and I sit silently for what must be mere minutes before a can of soda is placed before me and she forces me to drink.
I don’t stop until the can is empty, thanks to the hard glint of her eyes, and strangely enough that revives me somewhat, at least enough that I feel stronger and my tears stop.
“Mika? Look at me please. What’s going on? You look awful; you’re practically dead on your feet, and I watched you stand outside your mother’s room for almost twenty minutes without you batting an eyelash,” Julia says softly, the concern I hear making me blink and replacing the despair with confusion.
My mind, sluggish and at odds with the way I usually am, struggles to clear, but eventually I manage it. I meet her gaze, blinking when her eyes swirl an almost-silver right in front of my eyes.
“I… Why do you care, you don’t know me?”
That startles her, and I imagine that I see guilt flash in her eyes before she reaches over to take my hand. I go to flinch away, afraid of the touch, but Julia grasps my hand firmly and refuses to let go, going so far as to pull when I try to tug away.
“I know you. I know that I met a bright, sassy girl two weeks ago, who gave those college kids hell, slapped a man for grabbing her ass, and managed to look like a million bucks in a short skirt and sneakers. I know that I liked you when we met, and I know that you are not the same girl. What happened?”
“I don’t know. I just…feel,” I whisper hoarsely, my eyes tearing again when her face falls and something flits across her expression.
“Feel what, Mika?”
“Everything. Nothing. Scared. Empty. Broken,” I admit, even though saying it makes it all so much more real.
I am terrified to give voice to it, and yet, for some reason, I blurt it out there, the need to unburden myself strangely freeing. I don’t know this woman, and yet, from one barely-recalled meeting, I know that I liked her…still like her.
She’s not my friend, and yet, the touch of her hand and the calm swirl of her eyes settle me. That settling is so profound I sigh loudly and almost slump with relief, the tension that had my lethargic body strung tight dissolving as if by magic.
“Oh Mika, I am so, so sorry,” she says, her own eyes going wet when I blink and moan to clear my head.
“Why? You can’t help it if I am a nutzo. I should have known I was going to lose it just like Mom,” I say, shaking as the sugar from the soda hits me and injects a jolt of energy into me.
“Honey, uh, I need to ask you a few questions,” she says hesitantly.
“Sure,” I say, disinterest lacing my tone.
“Er, uh, this…feeling, when did it start?”
I tilt my head, trying to think, but whenever I think too hard, I get so dizzy and bewildered I end up having a mini-panic attack.
“I don’t know…I get so confused when I try to think about it.”
Julia frowns, her eyes narrowing, and curses under her breath before stroking my hand soothingly to stop the frantic spate of thought that assails me again.
“Shh, shh Mika, it’s okay. You don’t have to think about that now, honey. Just breathe with me and clear your mind.”
I obey, almost automatically, and feel the calmness that seems to flow from her envelop me again, stilling the mad rush of confusion.
“Now, uh, I know that you’re not feeling great, Mika, and I know that you’re confused, honey, but can you remember anything about the day we met?” she asks.
I frown, the wispy tendrils of disjointed images pouring through my mind. I remember Holly dancing, Troy the frat asshole and his stalker Cindy or Cinnamon, or whatever her name was leaving me a quarter for a tip. I remember working until my feet felt like meat slabs in my sneakers and then finally getting a break around four when Jo came in to take over, and Holly stayed an extra thirty minutes to give me time to eat and drink…something.
Everything before that, at least some parts are a blur, as is everything after. I remember going back inside and feeling strange, working through the rest of the shift and going home in a daze of fear and sadness.
I didn’t sleep that night, no matter how tired I was and instead sat on the window seat and stared out at the dark street below while silent tears gripped me. The rest, the last two weeks was just as bad because while I don’t have memory blips, I do have this strange veil over everything I’ve done since. As if my mind isn’t working and can’t retain it all in detail.
Crazy. I really am going crazy.
“Uh, I remember three blondes?” I say, the statement a question because I truly can’t tell if that was real or not.
Julia nods, closing her eyes.
“Logan, Banner, and Rafe. Good. That’s good. You remember anything else?”
I squint, trying to dig deeper only to have my head burst with splitting pain that leaves me gasping and clutching at my skull to stop the pain.
“Stop! It’s okay, Mika. You don’t have to think about it if it hurts. Just breathe, honey. That’s it, Mika, breathe slowly and let it go. That’s a good girl, sweetheart,” she croons, stroking my hair tenderly.
Part of me is still, me, so I’m slightly ashamed and embarrassed that this beautiful woman is currently running her clean hands through my filthy hair, but I can’t deny that I lean into the touch and moan at the cool comfort she offers.
“I’m losing it. I can’t…the longer it takes to think, the more I lose time and…and I just…” I trail off, sniffing and fighting against tears when I look into her eyes and feel—
As if I know them.
Only it’s not her eyes that I know. It’s another pair of eyes just like hers that belong—
Another shaft of pain hits me, and I shrink away from the thought fast, knowing from experience that all I will feel if I keep going is pain and the strange desolation that’s had me in its grip for weeks.
“I had to put my mother in here for losing her mind. I can’t…they’re gonna lock me away if I can’t get a handle on myself
,” I whisper hoarsely, swiping at my eyes because they’re streaming again.
Julia’s mouth goes thin, and she blinks, as if trying to stop herself from crying. Seeing that wracks me with guilt and also gratitude because no one ever cries for me anymore. Jo and Holly are my peeps, but lately all I’ve had is their yelling and criticism. Not that I blame them or anything. I mean they love me, so seeing me board the kookoo choochoo must be hard on them.
Having this pretty, clean, nice-smelling woman, who would so be a crush if I was into vag cry for me is…nice. It means at least one person cares about what a freak I am compared to the well put-together person I was before.
“No one is locking you away, Mika, I promise you. I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” she says fiercely.
Her words confuse me, but oddly give me hope, something I have had in very short supply lately.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, honey. Now, look into my eyes, Mika, and hear me…”
Chapter Three
Bear
“You fucking pig! You intolerable, cruel asshole!”
I don’t blink, as Jules hurls yet another spate of curses at my head, her eyes flashing with so much anger I feel it lick across my skin where I’m sprawled across the couch in my father’s den.
Mom is still pacing and wringing her hands while dad keeps sighing and throwing me looks of clear confusion and disbelief. I’d clarify things for them all, maybe put Mom’s anxiety to rest, if not for the fact that Jules hasn’t stop screaming at me for almost forty minutes since I got Dad’s summons and came over.
Before his royal decree, I was happily lounging in bed with Hannah, listening to her gripe about her father cutting her extravagant allowance and some new bag she had her eye on that she can’t afford. I was just about to assure her I’d supplant whatever Greg cut when the phone rang, cutting her tirade short.
I should not have answered the fucking phone because by now I’d be balls deep in Han again and riding myself to an orgasm that I sorely need. The last three years, ever since I came into my prime as most wolves do at thirty, I have been restless, and no matter how I slake myself on Hannah, I can’t calm the need burning inside me.
I love Hannah. I have since we were children and she told me that she’d mate me when we grew up. Even then, with her soft blue eyes and flowing black locks, I knew she meant it, and I haven’t ever wanted anything else.
I’ve fought for it since I turned eighteen and petitioned my dad to let us mate, only to have him refuse, stating that the next Alpha of the Greyriver could not mate a female that is not his Fated.
The refusal has angered me for years because the longer I go without mating Hannah and filling her with my young, the more restless I become. Not that I really want young right now, not until Hannah is ready, if that will ever happen, but I do want the possibility that one of the times I come inside her, it will result in my seed taking root.
For a wolf, especially one with as much alpha in him as I have, it is a biological imperative to reproduce and see the next generation swelling in my female’s belly.
I want it so badly that sometimes it’s all I can do not to say screw it and just mate Hannah, even if that would result in banishment for us both. The only thing stopping me is the certainty that it would make us both unhappy. And a niggling unease that somehow stops me whenever I tell myself I can risk it.
A little voice in my head is always there, whispering insidiously that mating is for life and that with our longer life spans I would be stuck with my decision for more than a few years. I could live to two hundred, well into old age, in misery if things between Han and I don’t work.
Not that they won’t. We love each other. But still, it would kill Hannah to be banished and separated from the life she knows among the pack, and I can’t say honestly that I would be okay with that either.
I love my people, and I love my family, and the thought of banishment and never seeing them again, of Mom never calling to ask about my day or Dad never swiping me upside the head…I hate the thought.
Not to mention losing Jules. She’s my younger sister and a pain in the ass, but I adore her and losing her would hurt a lot.
“Bear, Goddammit, are you fucking listening to me, you asshole?!” she rages, taking me by surprise when her fist hits my face with enough force to snap my nose.
Blood gushes from the broken lump, and I growl in pain as she screams invectives at me and her silver-grey eyes flash with wrath.
“Goddammit, Jules! That fucking hurt.”
“Not as much as it did for me to see Mika Blithe walking around looking like death. She’s broken, Bear. Goddammit, what did you do to her?” she yells, her body going stiff as she fights the change her temper is trying to bring on.
If she didn’t have so much control over her animal, I know Jules would already be shifted and trying to rip my throat out.
Her words have me stilling, and I groan, ignoring the looks of disgust that all three throw at me when I pinch the bridge of my nose and twist, resetting it before the healing can start and the thing sets crooked.
“Broken?” Dad asks, eyes narrowed on me in a way that has me sweating.
Not that I am afraid of my father, I’m not. He’s my alpha, and I love him, but he has absolutely no say in my life, and can’t do shit to me with regards to Mika.
I’ve made my choice, and they’ll have no choice but to respect that. The disappointment though, that’s something else entirely, and I know that when my parents hear what I did, they’ll be disappointed.
Christ, I hate that. The last time this happened was the day I supported Hannah’s refusal to accept Logan’s rightful claim and almost lost my best friend because of the love I feel for her.
Honestly, and not that I want to be a dick, but biological selection of mates isn’t something that Han or I adhere to, and as such, I don’t believe that Logan has a claim on her.
Fuck, he doesn’t even love Hannah, and from what he said the day we mended fences, he doubts that he ever will. Good for me, because I’d have to kill Logan if he ever came near Hannah.
I love her, or at least I feel for her what I think love is. I can’t really say since the both of us don’t absolutely believe in all that eternal love shit either. We’re compatible, great in bed, and we fit. That’s all I need to know that she’s right for me.
She does her own thing, I do mine, and we meet in the middle, usually for sex.
“Bear! Explain!” Dad growls when I remain silent, his eyes flashing when my mouth hardens and my shoulders go tight.
“I chose,” I say simply, ignoring Jules’s shriek of fury and the curses she keeps muttering.
At me. Personally. And trust me Jules can get very personal when she’s pissed.
“Explain, boy.”
Christ.
“We went out for coffee a few weeks ago—”
“Oh yes, Nick. Remember when I was so happy that Jules and the boys managed to drag him out of his house after that dreadful Seers girl dumped him?” Mom trills, glaring at me because it turns out that me being out and about actually facilitated me and Han getting back together.
Dad grunts, smiling at Mom’s happiness before scowling when her lip trembles.
God save me from that Fated mates shit.
See, this is why I don’t want that crap. My mom and dad are so bonded that he feels her emotions and vice versa, something that they seem to treasure—when to me it just seems unhealthy.
If Mom is happy, Dad is happy—but if so much as a sniffle comes out of her, my dad is ready to rip apart anything or anyone that so much as upset her. I can’t do that out of control stuff, and I won’t, not ever.
Nah, what me and Han have is controlled and familiar, and I like not having to lose my shit if the female gets a hangnail.
Fated? It’s more like doomed if you ask me.
“Bear!”
“Christ! Fine. I met…her,” I say reluctantly, sighing heavily when
Jules lets out a scream before stalking over to Dad’s desk to swipe his drink and down it.
The old man frowns, but shrugs it off, rolling his eyes when she looks at the empty glass, drops it, and swipes the bottle before stalking to a seat and falling into it.
She slouches there, making me grin because her posture is at odds with the designer suit she’s wearing and her manicured nails. Jules is a girly girl, just like Mom, but that ends at appearance. Inside, the two are trash-talking ballbusters, who don’t give a damn about opinion.
“Her?” Mom asks, her eyes going narrow before they widened, and she smiles so brightly I groan in response. “You mean her? Oh Bear! Oh, my son, I prayed for this for so long. Who is she? Is she beautiful? I just bet she’s beautiful! Oh Nick, it’s finally happened,” she says on a joyous sob before flinging herself at him.
The idiot grins, sweeps her onto his lap, and chuckles when she squeals and claps her hands excitedly, dancing on his lap. Yeah, fucking great.
“Mom—”
“Oh, there is so much to do! I have to inform the council and call Madeline to start the arrangements for the mating ceremony, and we need to get a cleaning crew over to your house to have it fumigated. God help me, you’d think that Seers girl could at least clean the place up a little if she’s going to leech off you. Oh! And a dress.”
Mom keeps mumbling about arrangements while Jules glares and Dad’s eyes narrow. The fact that I’m not elaborating is making his natural suspicions rise to the fore.
“Prissy, darlin’, I don’t think he did anything about it.”
“What! But, but she’s your Fated.”
“Mom—”
“And that is so rare. Most wolves have to wait at last a hundred years before they find their Fated and…and you’re only thirty-three. Do you have any idea how lucky you are, Bear?”
I snort, rolling my eyes, and ignore Jules’s continued insults.
“Mom, you know I don’t believe in that shit. I am with Hannah,” I say firmly, getting a gasp of outrage from both Mom and Dad.
They always take offense when I say this, because yeah, according to them it’s an insult to suggest that their union is anything but loving and heaven on earth. Not that I don’t think they’re happy because the truth is that my parents have never had anything but pure bliss since I was old enough to remember.
Greyriver Shifters Page 3