“Like this thing with Ronan and Sebastian?” she asked softly, her smile open and compassionate. “Emilio told me a little bit about the situation.”
I nodded. I didn’t expect we could keep many secrets in this house. Not with all of us living in such close proximity.
“I’m so sorry, Gray,” she said.
At her kindness, a blade pressed against my heart, carving a fresh mark for all that Ronan and I had lost.
I nodded, blowing out a slow, even breath. “Ronan and I will get through this. Don’t ask me how, since I still don’t fully understand Sebastian’s head games. But a bond like we had—it doesn’t end just because someone else says it has to. I have faith that we’ll figure it out together. Darius, too. I have to believe he’s still in there somewhere, even if he doesn’t remember me yet. I’m not giving up on any of them, and I’m not giving up on hope.”
Elena’s eyes twinkled, and she winked at me over the rim of her mug. “Sounds like a pack to me.”
“In a lot of ways, it is.” Then, eager to shift the focus away from my own romantic entanglements, I flashed a teasing smirk and said, “Maybe you should try it. Get yourself a few boyfriends, do a little test run.”
“That easy, right?” Elena smiled, but the laughter quickly dimmed from her eyes. “I can’t, Gray. I’m the Alpha. We mate with one, and we mate for life.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like such a bad deal if you find the right guy though, right?”
She shrugged, noncommittal.
“What about Detective Hobb? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”
She reached for another sandwich, breaking it in half. Melty cheese dripped from the center, still warm. “I care for Aiden,” she said, taking a bite. “A lot. But he’s not my mate. Not in the true sense of the word.”
Her eyes glazed with a deep, dark sadness, the cause of which I could only begin to guess at. She set down the rest of her sandwich, and for a moment I thought that would be the end of the conversation.
But then she looked at me and said, “I already found my mate. A long time ago.”
My eyes widened in surprised. I was almost afraid to ask the next question, but she seemed to be expecting it.
“What happened?”
“Well, we married young. He was human—totally forbidden.” The mischievous sparkle in her eye told meexactlywhat Elena thought about that particular rule. But despite the momentary smile, it was clear she didn’t enjoy talking about this.
“I… didn’t mean to push,” I said.
“It’s not that. It’s… I haven’t talked about this in so long. I just…” She swiped a tear that had escaped down her cheek, taking a shuddering breath. “To make a long and tragic story as short as possible… Back in Argentina, our pack was betrayed. Our people were slaughtered. Emilio got me out—just barely—but our parents…” She shook her head, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. “And my… my husband and my daughter… She was only three at the time.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “At the time. I say it as if she’ll ever be any older.”
“Daughter,” I whispered. Her words punched a hole in my chest, reaching right in and grabbing my heart. “I don’t… I can’t even find the words for this.”
“That’s because there aren’t any.”
My heart was breaking for her, my mind racing with so many questions, colliding into one another and making my tongue feel fat. How had their pack been betrayed? How had she and Emilio escaped? And what had happened since that horrible tragedy to drive them so far apart? It sounded like they were the last two of their family—of their pack. And somehow, they’d become estranged. For nearly two decades, if I remembered it right.
I took a breath, trying to corral my thoughts into the right words, into a single sentence that could offer even the tiniest bit of comfort.
But when I opened my mouth to speak, Elena held up her hand.
“It’s not necessary,” she said. “I’ve read every book on grief and loss and recovering from trauma. I even went to a few support group meetings in Seattle a couple of years ago, hoping I could find a connection, another person who understood and could help me feel less alone in it.”
“It didn’t help?” I asked.
“Yes and no. It helped soothe the sting in the moment. But there’s just no balm for a wound like this. You carry the burden, and you learn to live with the pain, making room for it like another person in the house. It follows you everywhere—to the grocery store, to work, into your bed at night. You make peace with it. You make friends with it. And you survive, despite the hole in your heart.”
She held my gaze, her eyes suddenly fierce, and I nodded. I hadn’t suffered the loss of a child—I couldn’t even imagine what that would do to a person. But loss was universal, and in my own way, I understood what she was saying.
Finally breaking our gaze, Elena brushed the last of her tears away and forced out a laugh. “Goodness, what’s in thismate? Truth serum?”
I returned her laugh, glad to lighten the mood, just a little bit.
