by D. Fischer
“That’s not the point, Jinx,” she mumbles. She invades my space again. “I don’t think you’ve fully accepted who you are nor fully allowed yourself some slack for what you did to survive both mentally and physically. You have all the other senses and abilities that come with the legends of being a skinwalker. All of them. They are natural to you. You hadn’t noticed until I pointed it out. Your instincts are animalistic. Your trust is loyal. Your desires are plain. You only need to forgive yourself, or it will consume you. Do not run from it. Do not pretend you are forgiven in your own eyes.”
“I’m not angry with myself,” I lie.
She smiles sympathetically again. “Oh, I think you are, and until you can let it go,” she points at my body, “this is the only skin you will walk in.”
CHAPTER NINE
Jinx Whitethorn
“A date?” Sara asks.
It’s been a few hours since the sun dipped below the horizon, and I’ve finally warmed with the help of a long, hot shower. Once I emerged from the steaming bathroom, Glenda was nice enough to bring me supper straight to my room. She had pecked my cheek, too, then demanded I eat every crumb for missing the day’s meals.
Sara, still exhausted from watching me stand for hours, with puffy eyes to match, scrutinizes me with a scrunched nose. I’m getting dressed in one of the outfits I borrowed from Amelia, and Sara has never been fond of borrowed clothes nor hand-me-downs. At least, she pretends she’s not. Witches are notorious for ‘borrowing’ their sister witch’s belongings, but Sara likes to pretend otherwise for reasons unknown to me. These clothes smell brand new, though. Freshly bought. I internally scowl as I lift the hem of the collar and inhale another whiff of the dye. Amelia had grinned conspiratorially when she passed them to me and said I could keep them. Did she go out and buy me clothes?
Running my hand down the front, I smooth the blouse once more. It’s exactly something Amelia would do. She’d know that if she asked to buy me clothes, I’d tell her absolutely not. She is a shrink, after all. I have too much pride to let anyone do that for me. Perhaps lying or withholding the truth from me is the only way she could add to my very meager belongings.
I eye my empty bag with pursed lips. I had made room for what was mine in an empty drawer of Jacob’s dresser. I even placed my violin case on a shelf in the closet. I would go thank her, but I saw her and Jacob head upstairs to his office when Sara and I came to Jacob’s suite after returning the dishes to the cafeteria. I know she’s still helping Jacob deal with the losses. They seem fresh all over again, thanks to the nightmares. Allie especially. While I hide in my tower, I often see Jacob, in wolf form, gazing at her grave from afar. I’m truly grateful for Amelia in more ways than one and, therefore, resign to the fact that I’ll just have to thank her later.
I turn back to the present with a curt nod. “A date.” In the mirror, I swirl slowly, admiring how the blue blouse sparkles in the dim lighting of the room. It hugs all the right places just like the perfectly-fitted dark skinny jeans. The back pockets have gentle, tasteful swirls of sewn decoration. They don’t glitter, thank goodness, but they do sweep lovingly from pocket corner to pocket corner.
“I thought no one was allowed to leave the compound?” She sniffs her jealousy. “Everyone except for the Alpha and the woman he humps?”
My cheeks flush bright red. “We aren’t leaving pack territory,” I divulge, meeting her gaze in the mirror. She’s sprawled across Jacob’s bed.
“So, Jacob is taking you on a date, but you’re not leaving wolf land.” She rolls her eyes and flops back onto the mattress. “Sounds dreadfully boring.”
I suppress a grin. I’m not as high maintenance as she is. We’re complete opposites. Yet, I find her prissy personality endearing.
“He’s probably just going to show me around. I haven’t explored the woods since . . .” I trail off as dead bodies stare back at me in the mirror. I blink, and the image fades.
“Since you saved this pack of heathens.”
I point at her. “I didn’t save anyone. They’re capable of holding their own. Besides, you’re sleeping with the heathens.”
“Only one heathen.” She grins wickedly. “And so are you.”
Pausing, I twist my lips and duck my chin. It’s a look she knows well. An “I’m withholding something” look.
“You haven’t slept with him yet?” she whispers conspiratorially.
“As much as I want to, I think . . .” I hesitate and crack my knuckles while searching inside for my true feelings. “We’ve gotten close a few times, but I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
This thing between Jacob and me has developed quickly. I don’t even know what this is, and I certainly have never been in this sort of situation. We haven’t discussed it. We’ve been letting it unfold as it will. It feels . . . nice. Different. Right. But I certainly don’t know how to proceed.
Reflecting on my past, I realize everything was a one-nighter experience. I was trash. I used people just like my aunt implied, to think I was loved and wanted in some sort of way. I touch my bottom lip, remembering the sensation of his lips on my own. Jacob – he makes me want more. Even when he’s not around me, like now, I want more – from him, from myself. He doesn’t make me feel unworthy. He doesn’t make me feel different. I’m loyal to him, this man I so desire in every way.
In the face of how he makes me feel, the past makes me cringe. Everything I was makes me cringe. But now, it’s what propels me forward, a search for personal growth down a path I’ve never been on. I want to take that path with him.
When she doesn’t answer immediately, I look back at her and study her gaping at me. “What?”
She points at me. “You like him. Like, really truly like him.” Gathering her knees under her, she says with a bit more surprise. “Holy shit, Jinx.”
My cheeks burn hotter, and I turn back to the mirror, fiddling with my hair for distraction. “Possibly.”
“This is unheard of in Jinx’s Chronicles of Sexy Man Beasts!”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. “I didn’t know you were keeping track of my sex life. Plan to write a book on it?”
She giggles and then sobers to nothing but a genuine smile. “I’m happy for you. Your life is coming together.”
A knock at the closed door saves me from having to respond. I lick my lips nervously, knowing whoever is on the other side had heard every word with their special extra hearing.
“Come in,” Sara sings.
The door swings open. Jacob stands confidently in his button-down white shirt and faded jeans. The sleeves are rolled to an inch under the elbow, exposing strong forearms. I survey him from head to toe, not used to seeing him dressed up. His scent soon follows with the swing of the door’s gust and nearly sweeps me off my feet. Is it stronger than it was before?
“Ready?” he asks, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. He had heard us.
I glower at Sara, snatch up a coat draped by her on the bed, and then stride to his side. He bids Sara goodnight while he helps me slide my arms into the sleeves, and together, we walk the halls, down the stairs, and exit at the back of the compound. He says nothing at all, but I can sense the nervous vibes he gives off. They match my own.
“I’ve never been on a date,” I admit honestly. Appalled at my own admission, I breathe deep and stare at the dark night sky. On top of the compound’s hill, the sky appears closer. As close as the forest itself. I could reach up and pluck a star from the sky. The moon is bright, almost full, and I close my eyes to it. I swear I can feel the beams on my cheeks.
“Sara told me,” he says quietly.
Of course, she did. “She’s been meddling.”
“Glenda has as well.”
“Oh?” I crookedly smile.
He looks down at me while we descend the hill. Trees begin to swallow the sky and fold us into their shadows’ loving embrace. Our swinging hands brush against each other, and it sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to d
o with the chilling night. “She threatened me with a wooden spoon, actually.”
“Because?”
“Because you need a relaxing night. Too stressed,” he adds with her accent. I laugh.
When we enter the forest, his eyes begin to glow green. It helps light our way in the pockets of darkness so bleak. I doubt I’d be able to see my own hand if it wasn’t for them. Nocturnal creatures skitter into piles of leaves as we pass. An owl hoots from a high branch, and briefly, I wonder if it’s the same owl who had flown over my head when the night had barely begun.
“So, what are we going to do?” I ask, carefully stepping over a fallen branch.
He waits, holding my hand to make sure I don’t trip and fall. “I thought we could talk. I mean–” He clears his throat, knowing how his words might come off to me. He begins to stammer, rattling off his next words. “I have something I want to talk to you about. Maybe we’ll look at the stars. There’s a beautiful pond not far from here, clear of any trees. You can see the stars across the surface of it when the weather is fare like this, and–”
I start to laugh again, and he halts to studying my face. “Nervous?”
“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.” His words settle calmly in the pit of my stomach. Planning something like this with me – for me – is truly telling of his intentions. Damien’s earlier warning not to trust so deeply echoes in my thoughts, but when it comes to Jacob . . .
How can I not trust this man?
My pause is too long, so I say, “You’re fine,” thickly, then add, “I wouldn’t know what to expect anyway.”
He nods his head in the direction we were heading, and we’re quiet for a good long way. I allow the silence of the forest to seep into me. To calm me. To wrap around me like a blanket of belonging. I peer up at the canopy of bare tree limbs that crawl across the sky like veins. Occasionally, a promised star winks through the spaces.
There’s a break in the trees, and we step through, Jacob pushing aside a low branch for me. I gasp at the sight of the pond. It’s so still, like a mirror reflecting its surroundings. Edging the pond is rocks and boulders, moss and leaves.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper in awe as he searches my face. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Grinning, he tugs me closer to the pond. I bend and poke the still surface. The ripples wave across, and the stars dance. “There’s nothing like this where I grew up. It’s surrounded by fields and hills. No trees. No ponds. Little wildlife.” I stand and wipe my finger on my jeans. “I hadn’t realized what I was missing until I came here. Here, I feel grounded, tethered to the earth. At the Lotus Coven, it’s so wide open it’s as though I’m going to fall off the earth and wander aimlessly through space.”
In truth, I missed far more than what nature could provide. A home. A sense of belonging. A place where I fit in and can be accepted. Someone I could call my somebody. Sure, I’ve had Sara for my entire life, and she filled a void the other witches couldn’t provide or didn’t want to provide. But she could never fill the whole vastness of it. Jacob has given me more than I could ever give back to him, and in this moment, a sliver of guilt twists my lips in a small frown.
“So you want to talk,” I whisper to him, changing the subject. He squeezes my hand and pulls me away from the pond. “What’s the topic of discussion?”
A crunch of leaves echoes as he settles his stance, a nervous sort of awkward hunch as he folds inward on himself. Is he . . . embarrassed? Curious, I follow what holds his attention. In front of us is a soft, cream-colored blanket sprawled across patchy grass. I hadn’t noticed it earlier.
“Oh,” I breathe.
“Is this okay?” he asks, turning to face me.
I step closer to the blanket, swallowing thickly at what this might imply. This is a date. A real . . . date.
White tea candles surround the plush blanket. Each tiny candle is nestled between twigs and leaves. He lets go of my hand, fishes a lighter from his pocket, and bends to light each wick.
“Yes,” I whisper, finding my voice. “Yes, this is okay.”
Briefly, he flicks his gaze to mine before returning to the task. When he’s done and each tiny flame bends and twists to different rhythms, he crosses over the nearest row of candles and holds his hand out to me once more. Scraping my nails against my palms, I bite the inside of my cheek. Once I put my hand in his and allow him to lead me onto the blanket, there will be no turning back.
Jacob waits patiently, his expression soft. I take it, kicking off my shoes and following him into the square center of candles. My toes settle softly on the blanket. He pulls me close, chest to chest, my coat’s zipper to his button-down shirt, and peers down at me.
In this moment, on this blanket, it feels like we’re floating. It feels like the blanket is our boat, our canoe that’s taking us down a stream neither one of us knows where it’ll lead.
“The topic of discussion is us,” he declares in a deep, gentle tenor. His warm breath fans over my face. It chases away the chill clinging to my cheeks and flutters my eyelashes.
“My new favorite subject.”
With a wide grin, his white teeth catch the sheen of the moon. “Come on,” he says, tugging me down.
We both sit, hip to hip, facing the pond, legs sprawled out in front of us. Placing my arms behind me, I support my upper half, and I tilt my head toward the sky. Then, I look at the pond reflecting it back. It is something beautiful. With the light of the tea candles, it’s a dream. It reminds me of the broken gate and how the shimmering lights conquered the angry blob.
“Do you like it?” he asks quietly.
I nod and scratch the side of my neck. “I thought you were going to take me hunting or something.”
“Hunting?”
“There’s not a whole lot to do in a dark forest, so my imagination didn’t stretch very far.”
He barks a laugh, and nearby, a hidden critter skitters away from the abrupt noise. Leaning back, he grabs something smothered by the shadows of the candlelight. I hear glass clink against glass, and then he hands me a cup.
“I thought this would help,” he says, producing a bottle of dark liquor next. “I had to hide this. Luckily, I got to the liquor cabinet before you and your friend could consume the entire stash.”
“Blame Glenda.”
Meeting my gaze, he pours the liquid into both cups. It sloshes as it fills, his hand a bit unsteady. “She likes you. I haven’t figured out why yet, but it’s a nice change.”
The stinging scent of liquor reaches my nose. I let it breathe for a moment, swirling the copper contents. It’s cold when I take a sip, slides across my tongue, and stings the back of my throat. It works though. It pushes my anxiety and uncertainty away.
“So you’re the one who took the last bottle,” I criticize, and he suppresses a smile. “Cinder blamed me and Sara for that, you know.”
“You and Sara are pretty close,” he comments, a slight change in subject.
“Yes,” I breathe, rolling my shoulders as the liquor warms its way to my stomach. “We’ve had to be.” When he raises an eyebrow and seemingly settles in for a story, I explain further. “The coven is . . . a cultish life. Neither of us belonged in such an environment. Our personalities are vastly different from what they expect or accept from their witches.” I sip. Shrug. “And then there’s the tidbit that I could never do magic. I could mix potions, gather the ingredients, but that was about it. I think they let me stay as long as they did out of pity. I was a burden, and what’s worse, I felt like one.”
“And Sara?”
“Powerful,” I breathe. “Despite having a loud personality – an attention-drawing personality in place of a quiet burdened species – she’s too powerful for them to give her the boot.”
“Is it common for witches to be banished?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “The rules are simple. Abide by them, and you have a place among them.” I stare at the pond again and watch a leaf
drift to the surface. The water ripples, casting the stars into another silent and serene dance. “But that’s not what you want to talk about,” I guess.
When he says nothing, I slowly look back at him. His face is closer to mine than it last was, and I nearly jump in surprise to the glowing wolf eyes.
We stare, searching and melting into one another. “What does it feel like?” I whisper, surprised at the abruptness of my own question. “To have another creature living inside you?”
His interest snaps to my lips, and I get the distinct impression I’m talking to Jacob’s wolf and not Jacob himself. “It’s the greatest feeling and the worst. A war at times.”
“Oh?” I whisper. “A war?”
He blinks his nod. “Between primal and civil. Wants and needs. Duties and yearnings.”
Desires and loyalties.
“And what are you ‘warring’ about at this very moment?” I hate that my voice quivers. Though iridescent, his eyes are like pools of green smoke. I never noticed it before. Never had the time to fully study them so closely. The iridescent green swirls and ripples around a large black pupil.
“You,” he whispers back.
“Another one of my favorite subjects,” I say breathlessly. I sit as still as possible.
He leans forward, further invading my personal space. I shiver in my coat as he says, “I have to show you something.”
“Okay.” What could he possibly have left to show me? Under the simple beams of the moon and the sturdy presence of the stars, I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. Like he’s my other half. We started on terrible terms when he first brought me here, but even then, I never felt like I was a prisoner. I felt like he was mine and I had been searching for him my entire life. What more could he have to show me that I don’t already know?
“There’s a part of you, deep inside, who fears what I am and what I represent. Perhaps I represent a set of shackles because I’m alpha and responsible for many lives. I’ll never be solely yours. Perhaps you’re troubled by my security because you’ve never truly had any.” He pauses, touching the edge of my jaw delicately as though at any moment I’ll shatter and the wind will scatter my pieces across the forest. “Uncertainty, because you don’t know if I feel the same for you as you do for me.”