by Lola Gabriel
Scout smiled back at her. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”
12
Two Months Later
Scout glanced over at Rayven, who sat beside him on the porch of the newly built safehouse, and frowned at the vague expression on her face. “What’s on your mind?”
She looked at him and smiled slightly. “I was just thinking how nice this is, being outside. Being here with you. Sometimes it felt like I was going to be stuck in that house for the rest of my life.”
“It wasn’t all that bad, was it?” he asked with a grin.
“No, of course not,” she assured him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It was great. I do miss the big kitchen, and the awesome gaming system you had set up.”
“Well, the house is finally done being repaired. I know you’re all packed, but I still need to gather a few things. Are you sure you want to go back? It won’t bring back too many unpleasant memories?” Scout asked.
“I can’t believe it has taken so long. I will miss this cozy little place, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be permanent.”
“Yeah.” He let out a sigh. “It’s way too small if we ever decide to have little pups running around.”
Rayven raised an eyebrow at him. “Little pups, huh? Are you that eager to start a family?”
“Not at all. I’m a little selfish and want you all to myself for a very long time.”
A smile ran across her lips, and she nodded. “That sounds nice.”
A quiet silence fell upon them as they gazed out into the distance. Then Rayven turned to him again. “I was thinking about something else, too.”
Scout bit back an I knew it. He could tell by the look on her face that she hadn’t just wanted to talk about their current living arrangements.
“Just a few things that I don’t understand,” she went on.
“Go on,” he said, shifting on the wooden bench to see her better.
“If Kala had killed me,” Rayven began, and she held her hand up just as Scout opened his mouth to interrupt her, “what would have happened to you?”
“I would have set the world on fire and then burned down along with it,” he answered immediately.
Rayven looked at him with her mouth slightly parted in shock. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Rayven…” Scout grabbed both of her hands in his. “You’re my lifelong mate. Without you, my life would be empty and meaningless.”
“Aw,” she gushed, entwining their fingers together. “I still think burning the world down is a little too much.”
“Yeah,” Scout chuckled, shaking his head. “I do know what you mean. And, to be honest, I’m not really sure. I’m just glad I don’t have to find out.” He leaned in to kiss Rayven, and she squeezed his hands, sighing contently against his mouth. When they pulled away from each other, she was smiling, though it shifted into a hesitant smile soon afterward.
“Okay,” she said. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about, but you have to promise not to get mad.”
Scout grimaced. He didn’t like it when people said that to him. It made him prepare himself for the worst, and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. “What is it?”
“Promise,” she insisted.
“Okay,” Scout said, hoping he wouldn’t regret it. “I promise I won’t get mad.”
“Okay,” Rayven repeated. “Listen. This whole thing with my family and Kala being my aunt was driving me crazy. It kept me up at night, and I just couldn’t understand how she could be so hurt and angry to be driven to do something like… like all the things she did. She killed her own sister, tortured my dad and Onyx, staged this crazy elaborate plan to reunite me with Onyx only to try to kill us—” She shook her head, as if to dissipate those thoughts from her mind. “Why would someone do something like that to their own family?”
Scout glanced down at their entwined hands. “I don’t think she ever cared about family all that much. She only cared about herself, and her pain clouded her mind and made her desperate.”
“I’ve felt desperate before,” Rayven mumbled, “but never anything like that.”
“We all have our own ways to deal with our emotions,” he said, trying to get rid of the remaining guilt he could see in her eyes. He didn’t want her thinking that something could have been done to help Kala—as painful as it was, he doubted that Kala could have ever been different, regardless of the hand life dealt to her. “Some of us don’t deal with them at all.”
“Like you with your family?” Rayven asked, and her words immediately made Scout tense. “You promised,” she reminded him.
Scout’s shoulders slumped. “Yes,” he answered reluctantly, “like with my family.”
“Look, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but maybe it’ll help you find closure,” she said.
“That’s never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing worth closing,” he responded. “The five of us… we were all too proud to work together after we lost everything else. My father used to tell us that blood was what made us related to one another, but loyalty was what made us family. And when the chips were down and things got tough, we broke apart like we meant nothing to one another. We couldn’t work things out after one argument, Rayven. There’s nothing left there to salvage.”
“Oh, Scout…” Rayven let go of one of his hands to softly caress his cheek. “I’m sorry that I brought it up.”
“It’s fine,” Scout assured her, kissing the top of her head. “Really. I’m not sorry I left, and I’m not sorry for not trying to find them. Now I can finally put it to rest and focus on my new family: you.”
Rayven grinned joyfully, and Scout leaned in, kissing her on the lips.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he murmured against her mouth as he pulled away from her, “Now, let’s go pack so we can go back to our permanent home.”
“I like the sound of that,” Rayven chuckled.
Scout stood from the bench, still holding on to her hand. “I promise you that I will never let anything happen to you.”
“Scout’s honor?” she asked with a smile.
“Absolutely,” he said with a laugh, letting go of her hand. He walked to the door and glanced at her over his shoulder. “I knew you weren’t just a pretty face.”
Rayven laughed, pretending to be insulted.
Scout shook his head, still laughing, and then went inside the safehouse to pack. He looked around the place, his hands on his hips. The Vault had not only been a safe house, it had also been a part of the pack, a place where they could rest assured that nothing would happen to them. And while this new safehouse would never be the same as the original Vault, it didn’t need to. The physical building didn’t matter as much as what it stood for.
Just like Rayven didn’t need to be a replacement for his brothers. They had been a part of his life once, and Scout had closed and left that chapter behind so he could move on to the next one: his new life with Rayven.
After he had finished packing what few belongings he had brought with him to the safehouse, Scout walked out onto the porch. Rayven seemed to be deep in thought, and he cleared his throat to make his presence known.
Rayven turned back to him. Her eyes were red with unshed tears, but when she looked at him, she grinned so wide and brightly that Scout wondered how he wasn’t blinded by her. He loved her, and he would lay down his life for her if he needed to—if it meant she would have the opportunity to grin like that every day of her life.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
“Always,” Rayven answered, holding out her hand for him to clasp in his own.
For once in his life, Scout looked forward to the future. He was ready to start his new life with Rayven, and Onyx, and Creek. They were his real family.
Not by blood, but by loyalty.
THE END
Preview: Fated Mate
Preview
Fated Mate
by
Juniper Hart
Sometimes, when the winds settled, Nora would sit by the window in her studio and stare into the blinding snow, losing herself in the whiteness for hours. It seemed such a contrast to the dark images on her canvasses, the bloody reds and blacks melding together in a splotchy mess.
It was easy to do when Jerome was gone and she was left alone with no one but the house staff and her thoughts.
How many years have we lived in this forsaken place? she asked herself that morning, but she immediately dismissed the question, refusing to fall into the pit of despair threatening to consume her. She didn’t know where this melancholy had come from—she only knew that it was slowly starting to pile atop her shoulders.
The more Nora thought about it, the less she was able to remember a time before their escape to the alps. Though the fact depressed her greatly, there was no one she could speak to about it; no one but the white canvasses around her, which turned black with her innermost thoughts.
Sighing, she turned away from the endless falling snow and gazed at her supplies, wondering if she would get any work done soon.
It is not as if anyone is waiting on me, Nora thought with some bitterness.
It had been quite a long time since a deadline had created a light of excitement in her soul. Gone were the days of agents and accounts. Then again, there had never truly been any people waiting to purchase one of her pieces.
Now, instead of the promise of business, all that remained was the icy, but beautiful, Swiss days and the long, starlit nights where she pined for a different time.
I can’t stay here, she thought mournfully. I will lose my mind.
Slowly, Nora rose from the cushioned window seat and reluctantly headed toward the door, her silk nightgown swirling around about her slender ankles as she moved. Tentatively, she opened the door and peered into the corridor before slipping out into the brightly lit house.
“Ah, mademoiselle!”
Nora froze in her tracks, slowly turning to address the woman who had called out to her: Collette, the housekeeper.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, smiling kindly. “I will fix you some breakfast, if you’d like.”
“No, thank you,” Nora said, immediately shaking her head.
Collette’s green eyes narrowed, and Nora could tell she was about to be lectured.
“Mademoiselle Nora,” she began, “you have not eaten properly in days. I realize that artistes are a different breed of person, but you are still a person, are you not? You must eat something! Monsieur Charpentier will be displeased when he calls for your update and I tell him you have not touched a morsel of food.”
Nora bit back a scathing remark and lowered her dark eyes toward the Calamander wood of the floor beneath her bare feet.
If Jerome has such concerns, he can deal with me himself, she thought to herself, but of course, she said nothing to Collette. It was not the housekeeper’s fault that she had been named babysitter to Nora while Jerome was gone. Why did she even require a babysitter in his absence? Was there something wrong with her? Did Jerome not trust her to be alone?
“I will fix you whatever you please, chérie,” Collette continued, eyeing her pleadingly, and Nora stifled a sigh. It wouldn’t do either of them any good, and she didn’t want to get Collette in trouble.
“Whatever you want, Collette,” she replied dully. “I just want to shower and change first.”
The older woman’s face exploded into a look of relief so great that Nora felt guilty for having been locked up in her room.
I am not the only one who is trapped under the thumb of that unbending brute, she thought, but she was again consumed with shame. Jerome loved her, and he only wanted what was best for her. How dare you think of him so rudely? You are lucky no one can hear your thoughts.
“What shall I have waiting for you, mademoiselle?” Collette pressed as Nora turned to leave.
Nora sighed to herself. “I… I will decide as I bathe.”
There was never enough quietness for her to get some peace of mind—not unless she sat inside her studio and lost herself in the snow globe of her life, disconnected from the rest of the household.
She ascended the floating staircase to the second floor of the chalet, vaguely aware of the skylights emanating weak, gray rays onto the pristine interior of the place she had called home.
Living in the alps had been Jerome’s idea all those years ago, and Nora tried to recall the excitement she experienced when he had first suggested it.
“Just imagine, chérie,” he had said, his blue eye glimmering with the prospect. “You and me in our own paradise, separated from the scandal of the rest of the world. No judgements, no distractions. Only each other and our art. We can finally live the life we have always dreamed about.”
It had been appealing, and it had been truly wonderful at first, but then his work had abruptly consumed his life, and suddenly, it was only Nora and her art rather than the two of them and their art.
Why does he leave me for such long periods? It was not a fair question to ask herself. Although Nora knew that Jerome didn’t have any other choice, she couldn’t help feeling resentful of him, despite being fully aware that, if she were in his shoes, she would do the exact same thing. If she were given a chance to leave this glass prison and meet with the outside world again, of course she would take it.
A pang of sadness filled her heart as she entered the master bedroom, slipping her nightgown over her head. Tossing the delicate item aside, she made her way into the spacious dressing room, another skylight illuminating the otherwise dim room.
Nora wanted to know what time it was, and she glanced around for a clock before remembering that, for being such a splendid home, there were so few clocks in the house.
Jerome preferred it that way.
“It is so much better without the constraints of time hanging over our heads, don’t you agree, chérie?” he often said, and Nora agreed with him, just like she always did.
Day and night were only marked by darkness and light, the hours losing their purpose as she grew more and more reclusive.
I still have my art, she told herself as she gazed at her naked frame in the mirror. If nothing else, I must remember I still have my art.
Jerome had once described her as ageless, a timeless beauty of classical proportions with the porcelain skin of a doll and the even features of a Madonna. A tangled mop of ebony hair spilled indifferently along her shoulders, almost touching her slender waist in a mass of unkempt waves.
Nora put her hands up to examine her reflection, fingertips tracing the lines of her full lips and high cheekbones. She leaned forward, studying the deep brown of her irises as though she could stare into her own soul.
Are you still in there? she asked herself. Am I still in there?
A noise in the bedroom caused her to whirl, and she gazed out into the master bedroom to see Alex tidying the chambers, oblivious to her naked employer watching.
Alex used the feather duster to work along the expensive furnishings, humming softly to herself as music apparently piped into her ears through her earbuds.
Nora stepped back into the shadows of the dressing room, but she continued to watch the girl do her work. For a moment, Nora envied her. What she wouldn’t give to be a chambermaid again, emptying chamber pots and living her life as a free woman without the pain she had now.
Nora shook her head to herself. Where had that thought come from? She had never in her life been a chambermaid.
I was born into a rich family like a princess who found her handsome prince, she laughed to herself. A prince who swept me away to live in an ice palace.
“Mademoiselle Nora!”
She jumped at the startled cry from Alex when she finally noticed she had been watching her work. Nora forced a smile onto her face and showed herself before the young girl, who gaped at her in horror.
“I did not know you were here! Forgive me!” Alex continued, backing away, but Nora shook her head, her
hair bobbing around her.
“I am glad you are here,” she said. “You can brush my hair before I bathe.”
Alex popped her earbuds out, her face stained with an embarrassed pink flush.
“Of course, mademoiselle,” the maid replied, darting her eyes downward. “I’ll find you a robe.”
Nora waved her hand dismissively.
“There is no need,” she told Alex. “I will shower directly after.”
Alex swallowed visibly, but she did not argue as Nora moved toward her before plopping down in the chair facing the vanity. Alex reached for a hair brush so that she could begin.
“How are you liking it here, Alex?” Nora asked as the girl gently tried to make sense of the mess that was her hair.
As Nora looked at her reflection, she wondered when was the last time she had brushed her hair? Had she truly wasted away so much time? So many days?
“Very much, mademoiselle,” Alex quickly answered. “Everyone is so nice here.”
A small smile formed on Nora’s lips. “Yes,” she agreed. “The staff is well screened. Jerome and I have little patience for drama, you see.”
Alex did not respond, but Nora thought she saw a glint of worry in the girl’s face. What did Alex know about her and Jerome? Well, whatever it was, it didn’t matter, not really.
If Alex did her job and kept her mouth shut, she had little to worry about. If she did not, she would be replaced as the ones before her had been.
At least that was Jerome’s mentality.
Nora was more apprehensive about what the staff learned about her, as little information as it could be.
“I don’t know why you care so much,” Jerome had sighed once. “What can they possibly do?”
He does not have as much to lose as I do, Nora reminded herself. What if my parents come to look for me, even after all these years?
“And are you finding your accommodations comfortable?” she asked Alex instead. “Have you enough room? Everything you need?”