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But if anyone understands? It’s us.
The wolf who lost her first mate.
And the human whose mind continues to betray her.
24
NORA
There’s no sign of Cevon by the time I’ve finished eating, and I’m still unsure of the real reason he left.
Did he leave because I asked to leave, and his phone buzzing was just conveniently timed?
Or did he leave because he’s got business to handle?
I don’t really like either of those responses to be honest.
I barely managed to finish the full wrap that Cevon made for me, and I know Orson’s not going to be happy once I finally go home.
If I get to go home.
I sigh, thinking of my mates, the pain of not being with them hurting me so badly. The only solace I have is that, hopefully, those who remained at the pride are unaware of me being missing.
But for that to be a reality, it means something is severely wrong with Atticus. My wolf whines in my head, and I reassure her that Atty is fine. He’s not dead—we can feel that.
I navigate my way through my body, searching for the bond Atticus and I share. It’s buried deep down since it’s not completed, but the loose strand is there. But I spot something weird within me, something that shouldn’t be there.
I push past everything and tug on the new strand of life, the new connection to someone else’s soul that was not there yesterday—well, Friday.
Everything becomes clear now.
I understand my feelings. I understand my confusion, my want to be around him.
Cevon isn’t just Atticus’s brother or the leader of the hunters. He’s not even just the man who has kidnapped me.
No, it goes deeper than that.
Because fate has gifted us with a connection, one that bonds our souls together.
Cevon Phoenix is my mate.
And I’m determined not to lose another one.
I clear up the rest of the food, putting it on the tray with my empty glass of water, and carry it down into the kitchen. I didn’t pass Cevon’s office—can you really call a room with nothing but a desk and a desk chair your office?—but once I’ve sorted these dishes, I think he and I need to have a little chat.
I don’t dawdle. It takes me nearly an hour to wash all of the dishes we used for lunch. That one plate, the two cups, and those two forks… it took time. And I don’t feel guilty about making sure they were shiny.
And maybe I should shower first, too. I stink right now, my hair still has twigs in it from my run through the forest, and I know that’s got to be matted in there. Yeah, I need to sort myself out before I approach him with this news.
Once I’m clean and in a fresh pair of clothes, I head over to his office. My feet pad softly against the floor but, unlike last night—well, this morning, I suppose—I don’t try to hide my footsteps. On the off-chance the room he’s in is not soundproofed, I want him to hear me coming.
I gently knock on the door, hating the way that my heart is racing, betraying my nerves.
But why am I so nervous? Okay, it’s actually very obvious why I’m nervous. A man I’ve attacked twice now, a man who kidnapped me, a man who hates me… is actually my mate. It’s insane.
But I can’t help but think fate knows what she’s doing.
When Kennedy decided my fate for himself, when he listened to his parents and let them pressure him into breaking things off with me, I thought that was it.
