by Sylvia Frost
To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] RE: The Company.
Dear Marian, Emma, and Hikari,
This isn’t an email I wanted to write. I’m sure this isn’t an email you wanted to read. But before I say anything else, I want to say thank you. Each of you has done tremendous work for this company. Marian, your ability to get Boxes & Broom’s web presence working is a miracle I wish I better understood. Emma, your tireless pursuit of perfect branding impresses me every day. And Hikari, without your calm presence and beautiful singing voice, our books and our souls would be much less tidy. But sometimes, you do everything you can and things just don’t work out. I wish I could say I tried everything I could to get the company working, but the truth is that I didn’t. I refused to make the hard choice to slash salaries when I had the chance. Instead, I encouraged our employees to speed up their cleaning and organizing processes, sacrificing quality as a result.
No one but me has led our company to this spot, and I take full responsibility for it. I apologize for expressing these thoughts in an email, which I know isn’t the best form. But this has been weighing on me for a long time. Before I make an official announcement to the entire company, I wanted you all to know how much I love and appreciate you. None of this is any of your faults.
Thanks,
Cynthia Cinders
CEO of Boxes & Broom
Her thumb hovered over the send button. This was it. This was the end. Why postpone it?
Someone knocked at the door.
“H-hello?” Cynthia stuttered, her phone falling from her fingers and onto the bed, bouncing once. She dove after it. The message still remained unsent when she swiped the phone back on.
“Cynthia, would you like to come down for breakfast?”
It was Rex. She frowned, glad that the door separated them so he couldn’t see how worried she looked. Maybe it was silly, but she was still unnerved by the fact that he hadn’t told her he loved her too last night. And this whole trip was so strange. He had said he needed to show her something. But what? What could be so terrible that he couldn't explain it?
Her gaze slid to the phone and her unsent email full of excuses.
“Sure,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, but ending up sounding strained. “Just let me get dressed and ready.”
“Wear the jeans and hiking boots I packed for you.”
Cynthia stood up from the bed. It creaked. “Hiking boots?”
He didn’t respond.
Not really caring that she was clothed still in her dress from last night, she padded over to the door and opened it. When she did, all she got was an empty hallway. Needles danced on the back of he knees and her chest felt pulled tight. Realizing that Rex’s brother might pop out of the door at any minute, she scurried back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Not because she was worried he would see her undressed, but because she didn't want anyone to see her looking so morose. So lost.
Her phone stared back at her from the bed, resting innocuously on the messy covers. She made the bed first, tucking in the corners neatly, straightening her shoes at the foot of it. After, she took the phone in her hand once again, flicking one of the plastic rabbit ears on the top of it.
She didn’t unlock the home screen.
If Rex could be brave enough to show her whatever was wrong with him, she would be brave enough to look the members of her company in the eye when she let them go.
Chapter 31
Morning coursed through the pure blue sky above Rex, clear, clean, and bright. Below him, the cobblestones on the path leading to his mother’s greenhouse were overgrown with moss, but the greenhouse was well maintained and the windows as translucent as the sky, revealing the rows of plants inside. Samson had done a good job with the grounds. He may have inherited his father’s temper, but he also received his mother’s green thumb.
Rex wondered as he gazed at the glass house if he would have an urge to garden now that he had come to peace with his wolf. His mother always said that the scents of life were the one thing that could calm the beast’s hunger for death.
That was why he had planned on taking Cynthia for a hike through the woods before finishing back at the greenhouse and transforming there, but as he took in a deep breath and relished the aroma of the wild weeds and strange new growths emerging from the thawing earth in the woods beyond their yard, he decided that he would save the greenhouse for another time.
Today was for them. Whatever happened. Whether it was his last memory of them together before Cynthia left him, or the first of their new life together. It was theirs.
Rex glanced over his shoulder to see his mate. Her look of jeans and thick boots didn’t really fit her, with the exception of her sporty ponytail, which bounced as she took the stairs down from the porch two at a time to join him by the gate.
“Rex.”
His heart swelled up like a balloon in his chest, so full he felt like it would burst looking at her. “I wanted to show you something.”
“I know. I’m here. Show away.” She gestured out into the woods, and, as if in reply, a light breeze ruffled through the few trees that had already grown leaves. Then they were off.
The first part of their hike they took in silence. Cynthia, because she was still waking up, and Rex, because he was, surprisingly, enjoying the forest. Even with the trees here mostly new growth, the foliage felt denser than it did in Manhattan. The quiet was authentic too, unbroken by honks or sirens. No chemical smells or car exhaust burned his nose. There was only nature.
And her.
Rex glanced over his shoulder to see how his mate was faring. She was further back than he thought. “Cynthia?”
She glared at a rotted fallen log crossing the trail. Once it might’ve presented a serious obstacle, but now, it was almost completely decomposed. That didn’t stop her from staring at it like it was the Great Wall of China, though.
“Coming,” she huffed before stepping over it.
Rex frowned.
From the first moment he met Cynthia, he had known she wasn’t an outdoorsy person. But it was only now occurring to him what that meant. She wasn’t like his brother’s mate, Bel. She wasn’t fascinated with werebeasts or the woods. She hated mess and chaos of any kind.
When she sees you in your wolf form, she’ll leave you. She should. You’ll only hurt her.
Rex closed his eyes and inhaled the crisp, slowly warming morning air, as if that could dispel the dark thought. It couldn’t. But her scent did. Her orange aroma was softened by the other smells of the woods, mingling in harmony. He breathed in deeper. If this was his last hit of her, he wanted it to be a good one.
“Rex?”
Her touch joined her scent as she caressed the side of his face. He let her, relishing the velvety texture of the pads of her fingertips against his five o’clock shadow. He had forgotten to shave. “Thank you,” he whispered, always expecting her touch to slip away.
But she lingered. “For what?”
Still, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes. “For being here, with me,” he said. “For giving me a chance.”
“You didn’t tell me you loved me too last night, you know,” she said lightly.
“I love you.” His hands found the small of her back, and he pressed his palm against it. He liked these small, vulnerable parts of her. He liked the idea of a part that only he would know. “Gods, I love you so much, Cynthia.” Only he would taste. He kissed her one last time, loosening his grip, but he still couldn’t make himself let go.
One. Two. Three.
On ten, I will let her go and show her.
He got to thirty before he opened his eyes and started walking again. He never gave up her hand, but held it fast in his own. “Come on,” he said. “Just a little further.” Looking back as he guided her down the path to the clearing where he would change wasn’t an option. Just feeling how fast her pulse was on her wrist made him nervous.
; Finally, they reached the end of the trail. It was a small clearing, made from the storm the night before they had met almost twelve years ago. Sunlight poured in from the sky above, bright enough that it made the leaves look like pieces of green stained glass.
He took one last look at the pure cloudless sky before turning back to Cynthia. He must’ve moved quicker than she anticipated because he caught her staring too. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated. Her ponytail was tight and high, revealing every nuance of her curious, slightly awestruck expression. Caught. His.
She cocked her head, “Are we role playing?” She put her hand up to her forehead, mock swooning. “Oh, strange man in the woods. I’ll go with you this time, I promise.” When he didn’t respond, she dropped the act. “Or is your big secret that you like you hiking? While I have to say I’m not the world’s biggest fan, I guess I can get my lazy butt in gear every once in a while.”
“That’s not what I came here to show you.”
Slowly, button by button, he began to undo his shirt. He was glad his hands weren’t trembling. It helped with the way she looked at him. A flush crept up her neck, and her plump, pink tongue wet her lips.
When he undid the final button and slipped his outer and undershirt over his head at once, she took in a short breath of surprise. She didn’t let it out until he placed both pieces of clothing beside him, folded into neat squares. Rex could smell her arousal as he slipped out of his pants and boxers in a single neat motion. The air, which had felt warm against his back, was cool against his manhood.
She loves me. And I love her.
In another life, he wouldn’t have had to ruin it, but all they had was this life. Rex gave in to the low call of the wolf inside of his chest. Dropping to his knees, he let his spine contract and shift. He let the fur sprout onto his skin. He let his eyes lose their sensitivity to color, turning all the leaves above him into dull shades. But he never let go of the smell of her.
The cleanness of it.
He held onto it, even after he opened his muzzle and whined.
He wished he could say her name.
All that came out was a howl.
Chapter 32
Rex West really was a werewolf.
There was no other explanation for what had just happened. One minute, he was a man, and the next, there was this creature at her feet. Wolf definitely wasn’t the right word. It was the size of a small pony. Although it didn’t smell like animal. It smelled like Rex. And it—his eyes. They were yellow sure, but soft around the edges, watching her with the same yearning Rex always did.
“Holy shit,” she swore, low under her breath. “You are real.” But the surprise didn’t last long. She had always known, deep down, of course. Maybe even since the first moment she had met him. She rocked back on the thick heels of her hiking boots. “I’m not crazy!”
Rex, the wolf, hopped backwards, muzzle bowed.
But Cynthia was grinning. His fur was luscious and the same sandy color as his hair. The impulse to run her fingers through it was also the same as the very first time she had met him. She took a step forward. “All this time you were a werebeast.”
He cocked his head, one ear flopping down. It was almost cute, except that when he tried to smile—maybe that was what it was—he exposed a small army of very sharp teeth.
She knew he’d never bite her with them. Teeth didn’t scare Cynthia. They never really had. She wasn’t like Bel; she didn’t dream of extinct monsters. She had real live demons of her own. Like her father who was always so disappointed in his own failings that he took it out on his family. Like her mother who’d rather run away and become a drug addict than face her responsibilities. Like Lucille, a stepmother who tried so hard to protect Cynthia that she’d let her hate her for years, but then when Cynthia needed her most of all, gave up.
Like herself.
The girl who refused to see what was right in front of her. That her company was slowly going bankrupt because she’d rather work herself into the ground than make hard choices. The woman who thought that if she just kept the outside together, the inside wouldn’t fall apart. The girl who had run away from the boy in the woods, because the chaos she saw gleaming behind his eyes drew her to him as much as it scared her shitless.
Because no matter how much she tried to clean her body and order her world, that chaos was inside of her, too. And now that chaos had a name. Had a face. Well, a muzzle really.
Once you looked a werebeast in the eye, they really weren’t so scary after all.
How could she be scared of something that wasn’t even supposed to exist? She bent down—although she didn’t have to go far—to see eye to eye with Rex. And then, because she didn’t know what else to do, she held out the back of her hand. Her aunt had always told her that would help an animal get accustomed to her scent.
Rex lowered his head, butting his wet nose against her fingers. His ears were straight up and he gave a small bark that she could only interpret as disdain. He may as well have said ‘I’m not a dog, darling.’
Cynthia laughed hysterically now, not believing the pure relief tingling through her body. Werebeast or not, that was definitely Rex in there.
“Message received,” she said.
She reached out and touched his pelt. It was just as soft as it looked, which was amazing considering how thick the hairs were. It seemed only a few of them fit between her fingertips. It was weird. All the stories they heard in school were about wars, hate, and violence, but maybe the territory wars wiped out all the bad werebeasts—and plenty of the bad humans too. Rex wasn’t bad. Not like that. Right? Not with her?
That anxious thought made her fingers curl into a fist unconsciously, taking some of Rex’s hair with it. She wasn’t pulling hard, but she was pulling. She let go, but it was too late.
Rex growled, a full wolf’s growl this time, not the human approximation she had grown used to. This sound didn’t make her panties damp, but instead sent her skittering backward, trying to outrun the shudder climbing up her spine.
The growl morphed to a whimper for a moment. Rex’s muzzle brushed the ground, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry.” She tried to reach out again.
He flinched away, straightening to his full height, so that now bent over as she was, she was actually looking at him. She had never known that an animal could look so… imperious. And so sad.
“Rex,” she said.
It was too late; he was already changing back. This transformation was quicker than the last, but much more brutal. Now that she knew what was happening, she could hear the bones snap, reforming like tinker-toys brought into a different shape. Fur retracted into his skin. He thinned and shrank. It was a little bit like watching a video of a room being cleaned and organized in elapsed time. Except for the first time, she kind of wished for the mess back.
When it was done, Rex was standing completely naked with his back to her. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and his muscles rippled as he straightened. In the sharp light of day, there were other little details she hadn’t noticed before, like the freckle under his left ear, or the scar on his hamstring. Or the mark on his ankle. A splotch of brown fur. Just like the one on hers.
The world felt wobbly under Cynthia's feet. “R-rex. What is that?”
His back tensed. And he was so still that when he finally moved, it was like watching a statue coming to life. “Cynthia,” he said roughly. “That is my—our—matemark.”
Chapter 33
Before Cynthia had a chance to ask any more questions, Rex decided to get dressed. He picked up his pants from the rock where he had laid them and slipped into them, deliberately taking more time than necessary. He waited for the accusations to come about how he had tricked her, of how he was a sick monster. But when more questions finally came, they were framed in the way he least expected.
“A matemark? Like Naomi had in Mates of Darkness?”
“Mates of Darkness?”
Of all th
e directions Cynthia’s sharp mind would wander upon finding out the truth, his soon to be sister-in-law’s young adult trilogy was not on his list. He wasn’t sure what it meant or whether he should be worried or not. Although if Cynthia was a fan of Bel’s work, perhaps they would be able to get along when they met. If they met.
“Do you want to leave then?” Rex said, reaching for his shirt.
“Do I want to leave you?” she repeated back dumbly. Before he could slip on the shirt, she touched his shoulder. He knew then how she must’ve felt when he cornered her in the ballroom, hunted. Unsure. Needy. But he let it flow through him. They were beyond all of that now. They loved each other. If only for a month. Whatever happened next, he would always have that.
He removed her hand from his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Letting it go, he put on his cotton T-shirt. He had thought that comfortable clothing would make this faster, painless, but now even with it on, he still felt naked. “You do need to know. There are some things Mates of Darkness got wrong. If you do want to leave, it will be painful for the both of us, not just me. But it’s your choice. I won’t stop you.”
He hated how cold his own voice sounded. This wasn’t what he wanted. But it was what he deserved, wasn’t it?
“Rex…” she sighed. “Look at me.”
He braced himself and turned around.
She didn’t seem angry with him; although in her hiking clothes, she looked just as ill at ease as he did. The world spun around them dizzyingly fast, even as he could measure the seconds by the pounding of her heartbeat. Or maybe it was his. It was hard to tell the difference.
“I love you, Rex West,” she said, taking his tense hand in her own. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
There were so many times she had taken his hand in the past week. So many times he had tried to take hers, but for the first time, he allowed himself to stop worrying about what would happen when they parted and just relished the feel of her skin against his. Her callouses that spoke of her past, the lines and whorls of her palm that spoke of her future. Maybe their future.