by Rebecca Main
Her feet shuffle softly from the room, down the stairs, and disappear. I lay for a moment longer in the silence. Live in it. I can’t stay in here forever; it’s true. Katerina would not have wanted that or my own mother. Nor I. I sit upright, the movement causing my head to spin as I try to get my bearings. Time to face the world.
I make my way toward the door but hesitate. My feet take me back toward my dresser where an envelope bears my name in dainty, cursive script. The envelope is light. It shakes in my hand as I stare it down uncertainly. Ripping open the envelope, a single piece of paper with only two words on it falls out.
Love him.
+++
The draughts take time to wear off, almost ten days to be exact. Though my heart feels heavy with sorrow, it is indeed my own. I meet with Xander under the supervision of both our families as we return Irina to the Adolphus estate. Our eyes meet across the large expanse of the entrance hall; my heart catches in my throat at the sight of him.
Hair tousled, eyes lined with dark circles and clothes a mess, his eyes still shine as he stands tall before me. I remember the rush of pride that sweeps through me, and the love. The cascading shower of it pouring through the soulmark and pack bonds. I taste the salt on my lips before I realize I am crying. For once, not tears of sadness.
We collide together. Arms interlocked. Faces pressed tightly to one another. The beat of our hearts sounding as one as I hold him closer, so impossibly closer.
“Zoelle.” My name crosses his lips like some kind of prayer. Adorant. Fervent. I tremble. I pull back from our mighty embrace only to lose myself in the forest of his eyes.
“I have to go,” I tell him slowly, worrying my lip at his crestfallen expression. I raise my hand to cup his cheek, my thumb sweeping over his coarse beard. Through the soulmark, I pass my intentions. His eyes widen in understanding, then darken in want, a deep growl resonating from within him.
It’s far past time I take control of my life. To stop living in indecision and fear. Katerina’s words surface in my mind.
Your life can only be lived once. One should not do so passively.
“Go then,” he whispers, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of my hand. His eyes never leave my own. “Then come back to me.” I nod. A soaring sense of elation runs rampant through my body as I turn and walk out the door, Gran’s car keys in hand.
I drive straight to Missoula, my elation evaporating as I near the city limits. Oh, Ben, I think in quiet despair, I’m sorry. You never deserved this.
And I don’t deserve you.
+++
I sit silently in Gran’s Toyota Corolla waiting for Ben to return home from work. The sun dips past the horizon by the time he pulls up in front of his townhouse. But he’s not alone. A woman, shorter than I am but with pearly white skin and a handsome smile exits the front passenger seat laughing. In her arms is a box filled with files. Ben hops out and opens the back-seat door to reveal a lanky man with glasses holding a box of his own. He makes a comment, and the trio burst into another round of laughter before heading toward the apartment. I suck in a deep breath and exit the car.
I should have taken something for courage. Or more of the draughts. Anything to stave off my guilt.
“Ben.” He has to do a double take when he sees me, a large smile spreading across his face.
“Zoey!” he says something to the other two, and they walk ahead into the house, giving me quick smiles in passing. I meet him halfway, and immediately I’m pulled into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he exclaims softly into my hair. “I’m sorry I never got back to you before, I’ve been crazy busy. To be honest, I’m still pretty busy,” he says with a laugh, “but if you don’t mind hanging around with a bunch of finance nerds—hey!”
My arms stay tight around him as he tries to release me from our union, and another little laugh bursts forth from him at my display of affection.
“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll introduce you to Chella and Dave.” I shake my head against his chest, and this time when he pulls away, I allow it.
“I can’t,” I tell him, eyes cast downward. Just breathe. I force my eyes to meet his, just like Gran taught me. They are already filled with tears ready to be released. “I can’t, Ben.”
He swallows. Puts away his smile and folds his arms across his chest. “What do you mean? Why?”
My confession lodges in my throat. Refusing to budge. I have to do this. No more running away. “I—”
“Come inside,” he pleads, “come inside and stay. Stay with me. Don’t go.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” he asks as he kicks at the ground. “Why did you come here, Zoey?”
“I needed to talk to you about something. Something important.” Ben’s brows furrow and a pang of sadness hits my heart. I’m so sorry Ben. About everything. “But as it happens these past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me too. Xander’s mother passed away.” Ben’s mouth open and closes with dismay. He makes a move to come closer. To hold me once more in his arms, but I shift back.
“I didn’t know,” he utters. “I’m sorry. Please give my condolences to his family.”
“I will.”
The air between us feels taut. As if I could pitch off the end and hurtle toward nothingness with one wrong move. I don’t know how to continue, but it’s clear I must. After all, Ben isn’t the one trying to break us apart.
“Ben… Xander and I, we… that is to say—”
“You fucked him?” My eyes widen in shock. I stare at the hard lines across Ben’s face in horror.
“What? No!” I cry stepping forward. “No. I didn’t. We didn’t do that.” He looks away, cheeks coloring in embarrassment at his hasty conclusion. “I swear we didn’t do that.”
“Sorry.”
I swallow. Hard. No more running. It’s far past time I take responsibility for my actions. My biggest regret now is only having put it off for so long. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who needs to be sorry—who is sorry. There are things that have developed between him and I, Ben. And it wouldn’t be right for me to continue on with you. I’m sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry,” I tell him earnestly.
Ben remains quiet, his silence grating my nerves as I search his face for some kind of emotion. Though what I seek I know I will not find.
“Say something, please.”
“You’ve been cheating on me with this guy?” he asks. “Xander? The one from lunch a few weeks ago?” I shake my head slowly, feeling as if someone has grabbed hold of my heart and wrenched it callously from its spot.
“No”—Just breathe. Just say it.—“his brother.” Tears spill over my cheeks at my whispered confession and the way the color falls from Ben’s face. “I’m so sorry, Ben. I didn’t plan on—”
He laughs humorously, taking a few steps back as he shakes his head. “Right. I get it. Is that the line Jamie used?”
His words cut. Just as they’re intended to. I draw in a sharp breath as I fight for some semblance of composure. “This is completely different—”
“You cheated on me, Zoey. How the hell is it any different?” I have no response. “When?”
I wipe away my tears and release a ragged breath, closing my eyes to think. “A few weeks ago, just before his mother died.” A stray wind skates through the street, whipping the fallen leaves around us. The streetlights flicker on. They paint Ben’s face in gaunt shadows.
“That day at the cafe… when his brother came around. That’s when it started, wasn’t it? That’s what you wanted to talk about that day?” I nod my head disjointedly, unable to speak as I watch Ben run his hands over his face. “Fuck, Zoelle. Did I mean anything to you? Anything at all?”
“You know you did!”
“Do you love me?”
Another hit. One I take less gracefully as I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the ground. “I tried,” I whisper hoarsely, daring to look up. His head bows, shoulders hunched. The perfect picture
of misery.
“Great,” he says bitterly. The cold word bites, but there is nothing more to be said. “You should go. I’m sure he’s waiting for you, probably having a good laugh with his brother over this.”
“No, Ben—”
“Don’t.” He interrupts me harshly, his eyes full of loathing as he takes me in. “Just go. You never even gave us a real chance. I should have known better. Go!” I take a few hesitant steps backward.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper brokenly once last time, then turn and go.
– Chapter 11 –
Bound
Everyone is in a flurry of activity. Witches and wolves alike enter and exit our home to pick up supplies. The kitchen is filled. Constantly. By me and other brewers as we concoct potions, tonics, draughts, elixirs, balms, and salves. Someone works solely on divining essences of wolfsbane and amber. Another works with a caster to make some kind of magical grenade. It’s a sort of controlled chaos, for although people cram into the space, I never feel like they are in my way. Nothing is out of reach, when I need it, and advice and tips are given without thought. It’s a unique and wonderful experience. One I desperately need after my breakup with Ben, but it’s also mildly terrifying. Because there is only one reason we stock our supplies: war.
The crystal, I learn, was not given in its entirety. To be exact, only half of the crystal was given in exchange for the counterfeit sunlight ring. Which means the crystal will not be able to boost the products of the land. The coven didn’t learn of this deceit until a week after the trade was made. It roused the initial production operation. Around the time I was home in my bedridden depression, the Stormrow’s ring began to fail, and the resulting confrontation was messy.
The Stormrow’s claimed fault over the arrangement, stating that trading the counterfeit ring was far more deceitful than providing only half the crystal. When Gran and the aunts demanded to know why the crystal was not given in full, then the Stormrow’s admitted to only owning one-half of it. When questioned why a counterfeit ring was produced instead of the real thing, Gran revealed her knowledge of their nightwalker benefactor. It had gone downhill after that, and though Gran and Aunt Lydia had made it out of the short battle relatively unscratched, Aunt Mo hadn’t fared as well. She spent most of her days at the Axleys in their greenhouse.
I went to visit her the other day and was amazed at how large the greenhouse was inside when compared to its outward dimensions. Aunt Mo laughed gaily at that. Her fingers working on a flower crown stopped to clasp my hands in hers. Patches of red and black littered her skin, but she reassured me, they were receding with the help of the All Mother. I had wanted to bring her some treat, but by that time the kitchen had been well taken over, so instead I regaled her with my night at the Wselfwulfs, my interactions with Xander, and my break up with Ben. It was the first time I had been able to speak about any of the events without turning into a complete mess. Though I still cried.
“It’s good to cry, sweetheart. Let it out. Give your body and mind the release they deserve from your worries and troubles, and just be,” Aunt Mo said to me in earnest.
The problem is I have no idea how to just be. What does that mean? I don’t have time to dwell, though my mind steadfastly returns to the question when not preoccupied, for we are meeting with the Adolphus pack to discuss the coming full moon. After all, the Stormrows aren’t the only family out for blood.
+++
“She’s sure there will be an attack on the full moon? Isn’t there some kind of margin of error that comes with precognition?”
“Kymberly Moon has yet to make a false prediction in her young thirteen years of life. If the girl says there is to be a fight on the night of the full moon, then there will be,” Gran tells me, eyeing me through the rearview mirror with a frown. I slouch in my seat. We are headed to the Adolphus manor to talk strategy for the coming full moon, and it seems nothing can be said to alleviate our collective tension. My lips fasten closed as I stare pensively out the window.
Only a couple of days have passed since the breakup, and I have yet to see Xander. Though we speak to each other over the phone, and his heated kisses and caresses fill my dreams, I am on edge at the thought of having to see him.
Where do we go from here? The soulmark is already sealed and marked. Would we complete the binding tonight? And what exactly would that entail? My heartbeat surges forward at the questions. I might have an idea or three of what it might entail.
“We’re here,” Gran says with a sigh, parking the Toyota in the manor’s driveway and pulling out her keys.
“It’s going to be all right, Diana. Kymberly said as much. As long as we get the crystal in place along with the reinforcement crystals, it should hold. The barrier can be erected, and we’ll be safe.” Aunt Lydia says.
“Until the barrier fails,” Gran responds stiffly, exiting the car. “The reinforcement crystals will only hold for so long. Once their energy is spent, they’ll be useless to us. We need to find the other half of the crystal.”
Our car doors slam shut in unison. An ominous touch to an ominous day. “Everything is going to be all right,” I repeat, more to myself than anyone else as we make our way to the front doors. They open before we are halfway there. Ryatt stands in the doorway with his phone pressed tightly to his ear. He ends his conversation before we reach him, his once-strained features smoothing out into a charming smile as he greets us.
“Shall we, ladies?” He closes the door behind us and leads us upstairs to an area of the house I have yet to see. We pass by a slew of Chagall’s abstract work that my gaze drifts over without much thought until we reach our destination. The room is large and already filled with a dozen people. A dozen wolves. We enter, and the room quiets expectantly. Ryatt guides us to a chesterfield for our seats, but my steps stall as I seek out Xander. He is leaning over a desk with a man at each side, but his face is tilted upward, and his eyes are trained on me. My breath catches in my throat, and he slowly straightens.
He’s dressed all in black. Black trousers, black belt, black button down. They fit him like a second skin, outlining without reserve every muscle. Something akin to electricity passes between us, and I am seized by an uncontrollable stab of desire. The soulmark flares to life against my skin.
“Work now, play later, little sister,” Ryatt teases as he takes my arm and leads me to my seat. I flush and send him a stern glare, but he merely grins happily in response.
“Let’s discuss the timeline again, shall we? Our seer is unable to determine when the Wselfwulf pack will descend upon us. Their plans are too erratic, and they keep changing their intentions,” Gran begins.
“Which is unusual for the Wselfwulfs. They like their order. No doubt Rollins is under significant pressure from his pack to deliver some kind of promise. While some of the pack shares Rollins disdain for ours, a fair majority wish for peace. If we can finish this tomorrow tonight, it may prove to end our entire feud,” Xander replies.
“In your experience, what is Rollins most likely to do? When do you think he’ll attack?” Aunt Lydia inquires. Several from the small crowd answer at once, their answers varying greatly until a grand argument creeps up like the tide on the verge of ruining the entire meeting.
“Silence!” Xander hollers, fist slamming down on the desk. “This fighting will get us nowhere. Let’s work together to eliminate what is most illogical.” The group falls quiet.
“Well,” I say slowly, “when won’t they come? Surely, they won’t attack in the daylight, right? The crystals need to be activated at midnight tomorrow, but we could have our men and women stationed in the forest well before then. I mean, we have the hometown advantage, right? Why not use it? The placement of the crystal is only a couple of miles outside of town in the forest. It’s well over a couple of miles for the Wselfwulfs.” My ramblings receive a small round of murmured agreements and nods.