by Dee Garcia
"Everything happens for a reason I'm learning." And that’s the truth.
The good, the bad—there’s a purpose for it all.
“Yeah.” Her head bounces in agreement. "I’m learning the same.”
Silence falls between us then. We’re just staring at each other, unmoving, completely restrained. It’s clear neither one of us knows what to say after what’s already been exchanged. She apologized, I shared my truths. What could possibly be left?
“Is Tavi getting you home?" she asks, breaking the lull.
"He will, once we figure out this sleep paralysis mess. Not sure I want to go home and deal with that alone," I admit.
Although, after what just took place, I don’t know that I want to go home at all if I’m being honest. What Tavi makes me feel is just...
"Has he taken you to the witches?"
"Yes, just this morning actually. Persia said there wasn't anything she could do without tapping into my head. Tavi wouldn’t hear of it, though, so we've resorted to some teas she brewed up. Says they're supposed to calm my mind and allow me to sleep peacefully."
Tinksley’s lips quirk in a small smile. "Sounds like Tavi's fond of you."
I hum as nonchalantly as possible and give a little nod. "Yes, I suppose he is." More like definitely is.
"I know he and Hook have their issues, but I can vouch for him. He's great, just like his sister."
"He is," I agree, and that’s all I’m giving her on the topic because my relationship with Tavi—whatever that may be—is none of her business.
"Has he shown you Peter's house?"
The question takes me aback, rearing my head in a flash. "What? No."
"Do you want to see it? I can take you," she offers, shooting up all kinds of red flags.
Yes, she claims she’s here to talk and hasn’t made a move as of yet, but that doesn’t mean she won’t if the opportunity presented itself. Blindly—and stupidly—walking off with her would be the perfect opportunity.
"I don't know." Skepticism drips off my tone as I hold her stare. I may be willing to stand here and hold this conversation with her, but that doesn’t mean I trust her.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Wendy. I swear on my mother. I couldn't if I tried, either. The Lost Boys will undoubtedly follow us for your protection."
The fact that she felt the need to voice such things only solidifies my hesitations, but she has a point.
"Where is it?" I ask.
"By the lake.”
"Lost Lake?"
Tinksley hums in response, leaving me in a minor state of confusion. "We were just there. Tavi didn't mention anything about it."
Then again, I was too busy shoving him into the lake for him to mention much of anything.
"He probably just didn't want to stir unpleasant thoughts."
"True." Inhaling a deep breath, I brace myself for what could happen when I move from this spot. When I’m calm enough, I close the distance between us, stopping nothing more than a few feet away. "I’ll tell you what: I'll go with you, but I want a truce,” I demand, holding my hand out.
Tinksley steals a peek at my offering, then sweeps those tropical irises back up to my face and places her palm in mine. "That's more than I was expecting, so yes, truce."
A shake of our hands and then we’re off, falling in step beside one another. Last time we took a little walk, I ended up on the plank. The horrid memories threaten to spill free from their little box in the back of mind, but I will them at bay, reminding myself—as I reminded Tinksley just minutes ago—that it’s all in the past.
We don’t share much on the way to the lake, but it doesn’t bother me. It’s not like I have much to share with her anyway. At least the silence isn’t uncomfortable. She leads and I follow, absorbing our surroundings, as always. The skies are still gloomy after the downpour, the fresh scent of rain hanging thick in the air, but the melodious sound of birds chirping high in the trees promises sunshine is on the way.
"Well, this was him.” She points upwards soon after passing the clearing.
I crane my head back to take it all in, completely awed by what I'm seeing, especially when the dock isn’t so far behind us. How the hell I missed this, I’ll never understand.
It's a literal tree house.
Thick wooden steps wrap around a large trunk, the very top connecting to a small bridge that leads to the house itself, all of it surrounded by trees.
"It's magical," I breathe.
"It was at one point in time, but I can't look at it without cringing now. Haven't brought myself to go inside, either," she confesses.
"Let's go in then. Get him out of our systems forever."
Tinksley scoffs amusedly and shakes her head. "I don't think that's how it works, little Wen—er, sorry, Wendy, but we can hope, right?"
"Yes, we can.” Small smile in place, I motion for her to lead the way up.
She obliges with a smile of her own and starts up the steps. I follow behind as silently as I did the whole way here and simply observe it all.
Up the steps.
Across the bridge.
A modest porch and a deep olive door.
Grabbing hold of the knob, Tinksley turns to me as she inhales a steadying breath. "Allow me to introduce you to the version of Peter I knew—the boy who never grew up."
The door opens and immediately all I can think is wow. It's all the more magical inside, filled with different woods and warm neutral colors. What I feel towards him doesn't extend to this moment. Much like the rest of Rosewood, I've never seen anything like it, only in story books.
"Pretty, isn't it?" Tinksley comments beside me.
"It is."
"He built it," she adds, snapping my head toward her in disbelief.
"No, he didn't."
"He did." She nods. “By himself, too.”
"Peter Pan built this house?" I know she just said that but there’s no way.
Tinksley laughs at the unconvinced squeak of my tone, nodding by way of response.
"Wow. The Peter I knew would never say he did such a thing."
Never in a million years. Peter wasn’t handy, at least the Peter I knew wasn’t.
It was all a lie.
"Do you want a tour?" she queries, sprinkling goosepimples across my skin.
I shake my head. "I don't know that I could handle a whole tour, honestly. I just want to forget him..."
"Trust me, I know the feeling. I wish I could set this damned thing on fire."
I want to laugh at her tone, but what lies beneath that playful lilt lances right through me. My chest aches for the both of us.
"How could one man do so much damage?" I murmur.
"Because he was never supposed to exist.”
That hits me.
He really wasn’t supposed to exist; the product of a one night stand.
"I really am sorry, Wendy,” she whispers after a beat. “I can't explain to you what it's like for me to—"
"It's over now, Tinksley.” I set a hand on her shoulder. “Revisiting it, holding onto it only makes us relive it, and I think we're both just trying to move on, right? For as much as I didn't want to understand you, I think I always did. Could never truly blame you for what was happening when it's Peter who's at the center of it all.”
Once again, I’m met with that soft expression, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards. "You're inspiring, you know that?"
Me? Inspiring? My brow arches curiously.
"You've been through so much here and just look at you." She motions up and down the length of me, forcing me to take a look at myself.
When I glance back up at her, I have only one explanation. "I think I have Tavi to thank for that."
I wasn’t gone very long, but when I arrive at Soren's, I find Tavi pacing the bedroom. The moment he sees me walk through the door, he's on me, sighing in relief as he pushes me onto the bed and settles himself between my legs, caging me in beneath him. "Jesus Christ, I thought she'd taken you
again."
"No,” I laugh softly, combing the longer strands of his hair out of his face. “She kept her word."
"I was worried. Started imagining every worst case scenario possible.”
My heart doubles in size at his confession, quirking the corners of my mouth. "I can tell."
"I didn't go after you because of Soren, just so you know." He drops his forehead to my own. “He was insistent you had it under control and that I should let you handle it.” His tone. He doesn’t sound happy about it, like it took everything in him not to come find me.
Seems impossible, but my heart swells all the more. It never ceases to amaze me how a man like Tavi, the strapping, valiant Alpha, can be so tender, too. "I'll have to thank him."
"What exactly did she want?" He’s suspicious, obviously, but if I know him the way I think I do, he’s about to be more dubious than anything else after my reply.
"To apologize."
Sure enough, he eases back enough for me to catch his eyes roll to the Heavens. "Yeah, okay—I don't believe that for a—"
"I do," I interject, cinching his entire expression.
"You believe her?"
"I didn’t at first, but the longer our conversation spanned, the more I accepted it.”
Not a word follows. It’s so quiet you could hear a blade of grass bending in half. Tavi’s staring at me like I’ve mutated, incredulously, a million questions brewing in his brown eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” I nod, tapping the tip of his nose. “See, this is where you and I are very different, love. Yes, what Tinksley did is horrendous, but I’m alive, right? The girl was provoked, drowning in the aftermath of...well, you know, and if nothing else at all, her cry for help led me to you. Had she not brought me here, we never—"
"Did you just call me love?" An enamored grin spreads across his face.
Really? That’s exactly what my face says right now, lips curling in amusement. "Is that really all you heard out of everything I just said?"
"Oh no, I heard you, but it took a backseat to that."
"It's a common term back home. Everyone I care for is ‘love.’”
A single breath, that’s all it takes for him to lean into me once more, his fingers threading into my hair, lips brushing against mine. "So does that mean you care about me, little wolf?"
The husky timber of his voice.
His hard body pressing me into the mattress.
I can feel him, all of him, triggering flashes of earlier this afternoon. I’m trying not to focus on the way my pussy clenches, but..."Are we still playing this game?" I breathe, eager for the brutal assault that is his kiss.
"I told you,” he chuckles darkly, playfully licking the seam of my lips. “I like this game."
"If I play along, will you finally finish what you started?" Shameless. I’m utterly shameless in this moment.
Worked up.
Needy.
In sheer seconds, he’s shifted the entire course of the conversation, dropping me right back into the moment where we left off as if we were never interrupted at all.
To say I want him would be the understatement of the year.
"I'd say you just made your move, baby. That right there tells me everything I need to know." His hips roll into me, bubbling the softest moan in my throat as I lock my arms around his neck for leverage.
"When will Soren be home?"
"Soon, I believe," he hums, rolling into me again.
Evidently, though, soon means right now. That or Soren heard his name and opted to be interruption number two.
The front door slams shut. "Tav, you here?"
I groan frustratedly and I don’t give a damn how whorish it sounds. That’s twice in one day, adding pressure to the already tightly coiled situation. Tension has been building for days, begging to be set free, for us to act on it and feed our desires.
Tavi suppresses a laugh and quickly pecks my lips. "In here!" he calls out over his shoulder before turning his attention back to me. "Patience, love, you're mine once he’s out for the count, don’t you worry."
♫ Heart Of The Darkness -
Tommee Profitt & Sam Tinnesz ♫
Turns out, it would be me having to practice patience, an attribute that isn’t always my strong suit.
Those teas Persia whipped up? They work, I’ll say that, but once Wendy downs it, she’s out shortly after, leaving me to my own devices while she sleeps to ensure there isn’t another episode in sight. The result? One, the worst case of blue balls ever continues, and two, I haven’t been out with the pack since the night the Fae’s broke out of the Hollow. Granted, that was only about a week ago, but Soren's been the one leading them through patrols while I’ve stayed with Wendy.
Wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t dying to get my hands on her again. I would have already, long ago, but time isn’t our friend these days. If it’s not the hasty side effects of the teas, it’s Soren busting in whenever things get a little too heated. The constant interruptions have left us frustrated to the point where I’m about to say fuck it and take her to the house, period—half-built or otherwise.
Tonight, though, Wendy insisted I go. Said it was pointless for me to sit around when she’s sleeping soundly.
I’ll be honest, I’m glad she all but kicked me out. We both need it. One more second alone with her, unable to have her the way I want, was going to tip me over the edge. The urges are simply getting too strong, instincts imploring I stake my claim, and I can’t afford that route.
Why? Because when a shifter follows that instinct, it’s not a simple claim—it’s a permanent mark.
She becomes yours, always and forever. Breaking that bond can be life threatening.
Marking Wendy would undoubtedly be my greatest accomplishment, but also my greatest downfall. You can’t mark a woman who doesn’t call these lands her home.
As always, Soren and Levi lead the way, trotting through the darkened terrain at an easy place. Elias and Talon cover the middle, Niko and Cortez cover their flanks, and I’m keeping an eye out in the back. I didn't believe the boys when they'd said it's been eerily quiet, but the night has been extremely uneventful to say the least. What’s most surprising is the lack of leeches. I know Tinksley offered her apologies, but still...isn’t her Captain vexed at my covert entry?
Off in the distance, a lone whistle blows a hailing tune. My ears shoot up at the familiar melody, stopping me in my tracks. It's my dad's whistle, one he uses to call for me when he needs me. There isn't a sinking feeling that follows, but I haven't spoken to him since the morning he flat out told me Wendy wasn't welcome in our home. Either something is wrong or he's come to his senses.
I'm going to bet on the former, but hey—you never know.
The boys have already stilled in place, each one peering back at me from up ahead. They're familiar with the sound, too.
You guys go ahead. I'm gonna go check on him, I tell them, cueing Soren to take over. He gives a keen yelp just as I'm turning back toward the village, bolting off in a full sprint. A handful of minutes later, I'm clearing the sparse trees lining the perimeter, less than half a mile from the house. Dad's already on the porch when I approach.
I'm flashing into male form right before his eyes and quickly grab one of the blankets off the porch banister. "Everything okay?" I wrap the woven material around my waist.
"As good as it could be, I guess." That's his answer, elbows digging into his knees, his head bowed in his hands.
Hopping up the steps, I lean against the railing and casually cross my arms. "What's going on, old man?"
"Kimi," he sighs, completely disregarding the fact I’ve used that term he hates. "Her birthday's a few weeks away and she's having a fit. Aiyana doesn't know what to do with her at this point. She's adamant on not wanting to live this life and Aiyana's terrified she'll try ending it."
Aaand I was right.
This again.
"There isn't anything she can do, dad. You said you w
ere sure she's got the gene, so it's going to happen. There is no delaying it or choosing against it.”
"That's exactly what I told her mother and she's passed that along to Kimi on more than one occasion, but the girl is resolute in her feelings."
"Unfortunately, those are feelings she just has to get over, Pa. She's going to shift whether she wants to or not."
"That's why I need you, son.” He drags his gaze to me, tired brown eyes begging for a reprieve. “I know things have been rocky over the last few weeks, but I need your help."
I expected this conversation to be far more tense given the circumstances, but there isn't anything remotely tense about it, as if the fight never happened to begin with. And as always, I want to honor him. I genuinely want to help him, there’s just one problem—"There's nothing I or anyone else can do. It’s going to happen."
"I know, but you promised me you'd talk to her, that you'd help her,” he stresses, voice straining quietly.
I’m assuming Aiyana’s inside.
"And I tried, dad, I did. Before I even knew about Wendy being in that dungeon, I tried twice. Kimi didn't want to talk to me." It’s the truth, too. I wasn’t saying the girl is beyond stubborn and set in her ways as an excuse.
My dad scrubs a hand down his face, sighing once behind his large palm. "You intimidate her."
I actually find myself a bit offended by that. "What? I've never been anything but cordial with her."
"Tavi.” He’s giving me that look. “You're not exactly the easiest to be around when you're doing something you really don't want to be doing."
"It's not that I didn't want to do it. I told you this the last time we had this conversation. Kimi is tenacious as fuck and—"
"Language," he warns.
"C'mon, old man, don't start with that,” I snap. “I'm thirty-three years old."
"And I'm nearly fifty-five yet you don't see me cussing up a storm."
Don’t roll your eyes, don’t roll your eyes.
I don’t, exhaling a harsh breath instead. "Can we get back on topic, please?"
Dad holds my stare for a brief wordless moment, then gives a little tip of his head. "Kimi is stubborn, yes. Both Aiyana and I know that, but there has to be a way to ease her into this, to prepare her."