The clock is ticking, and every hour that passes makes my stomach knot up a little tighter. What’s he going to do? And what will they do when he makes his decision?
I’m about ready to lose my mind when a knock at the door makes me almost scramble off the sofa. “Easy, easy,” he murmurs, getting up while I clutch a pillow to my chest. “I asked them to come by. You don’t have to talk to them.” That’s great, but who are they? The question dies in my throat while I watch him cross the room. When he opens the door, he stands with his body between me and whoever is on the other side, blocking us from seeing each other.
It’s a short conversation, and it ends with him turning toward me, holding a stack of clothes in his arms. Jeans, a hoodie, socks, and even sneakers that look like they might be around my size. “Here you go.”
“What’s this about?” I ask, taking them from him.
“You need to wear something that fits.” He shrugs, then adds, “And I imagine you wouldn’t want to walk through the woods barefooted. I hope they fit.”
I’ve been through a lot over the past couple of days. Over the past lifetime, really. But this? This simple, thoughtful gesture might be what finally breaks me. He thought enough about meto make sure I had shoes to wear tonight. That gives me hope, too. Maybe he really does plan on letting me go, letting me live. Otherwise, what would it matter whether or not I’m wearing shoes?
“Thank you.” Now I need to get away from him before I start blubbering all over the place and making him wish he never thought to ask somebody for help. I can let myself cry a little when I’m in the shower, and I do, while my hands shake hard enough to make shampooing a challenge. What is he going to do? What will Declan do?
What will I do without Kyran?
My mind is made up by the time I’m finished and dried off, with my hair in a long braid hanging down my back. He emerges from the bedroom wearing a black T-shirt and jeans to find me sitting on the sofa with my hands folded in my lap. It’s late, getting later by the second. I have to get this out before we go. He asked for my answer, didn’t he?
“Are you ready?” He’s the one who doesn’t seem ready, sounding hesitant and full of dread. Not exactly enough to inspire confidence.
“Just one thing.” My knees are a little weak, but I manage to stand and brace myself for whatever comes next. I have to accept it, good or bad. “I need you to know I’ve made up my mind. If you’ll have me, I’ll stay with you. Iwantto stay with you. Because the misery of being without my family would be nothing compared to losing you. My fated mate.”
There. It’s out. I can’t take it back, and I don’t want to. Whatever happens now, at least I told my truth. At least he knows.
Now, if he would only give me a clue how he feels about it. No such luck, since his face is basically a granite mask and his eyes are flat, expressionless. He is somebody who has obviouslypracticed the art of not giving away his thoughts. Does he have to be so damn good at it, especially right this very second?
“Thank you for telling me that.” His mouth opens, brows furrow like he wants to say something else, but he holds himself back. “We should go. Your brother will expect you on time.”
Of course. Wouldn’t want to give me a hint how he feels, right? I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter. My fate has already been decided.
I just hope I don’t hate the outcome. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned since crossing the border, all you can do is march forward and try to keep your head held high.
No matter how terrified you really are.
Chapter 12
Kyran
“Everything’s set.”Lucas is waiting outside by the porch steps when we emerge. He gives Tara a pointed look but swings his gaze back to me. “I just got a text. They’re waiting at a designated spot.”
“Then let’s go.” It’s easier if I don’t look down at her. Easier if I don’t think about the bombshell she dropped on me at the last second. She wants to stay. I didn’t know whether to laugh with joy or curse fate itself. The one thing I wanted to hear, though it could mean giving up everything that’s ever mattered in exchange. The respect of my clan. Their trust in my leadership.
Still, I have to reflect back on what she said about the pain of losing her family being nothing compared to losing her fated mate. She could have been reading my mind, speaking my thoughts. How can I lead my clan going forward when part of me will always be with her? It would be like living half a life. How can I be the alpha my clan deserves when I’m only half of me?
As we walk, the clan falls in step with us, two and three members at a time. Joseph and Lydia are among the first—I notice the way Joseph grips her arm, like a warning. I would bet he’s already put his foot down and warned her about running hermouth tonight. Of all times for her to learn a little restraint, this would be it.
“What’s he going to do… What if… How many will they bring…” They’re not exactly doing their best to keep their questions quiet. I feel Tara’s dread and wish I could put an arm around her. Some sort of gesture to make her feel less resented than she is by the growing crowd following us to the meeting site. I would only get pushback from the clan, and I doubt her pack would appreciate seeing it once we arrive.
My heart is a bass drum in my ears. It grows louder with every step we take until it almost drowns out the sounds of curiosity and disapproval behind me. Almost. I doubt anything could drown it out completely.
I sense the flash of excitement that bursts through her when we reach the place Declan requested for this meeting. It isn’t far from the clearing I first found her in. A lifetime might have passed since then. Nothing less. Meanwhile, my pack is on its guard, apprehension crowding the air. I would hope they’re not stupid enough to speak out of turn—especially considering how desperately outnumbered we are. They seem to go on and on. Declan did not take chances tonight.
He stands at the front of the group, with his brothers on either side. There’s no mistaking them for anything less than siblings. They all wear identical looks of anger and distrust to go along with their similar coloring and facial structure. One of them holds onto the hand of a small blonde—Nora, it must be. I remember watching her stare down who I now understand was her half-brother, the one holding a gun on her. She’s brave, having already been through hell again and again.
“Stay close to me,” I warn Tara, who releases a shuddering breath. Back at the cottage, she told me she was ready to walk away from them and start a new life with me. Is she regretting it now that she sees them?
Declan inclines his head once we come to a stop several yards away. “She looks well,” he admits.
“You didn’t believe her when she said she was unharmed?”
