Page 152 of Poet & Protector

“Calla knows that, too,” I told him. “That’s why the union will happen tomorrow night, no matter how she feels about Shay. Our pack will be strong. I’ll be okay. So will Nev. So will you and Bryn. We all have each other. We always will. Keep reminding yourself of that.”

His brow knit as he searched my face. I buried my fears deep, hoping he wouldn’t find them.

Finally, he nodded.

I offered him a reassuring smile. Sometimes you didn’t need words to lie.

Twenty-Five

Tom and Caleb’s cabin

Thursday, the night before the union

NEV

I arrived at the cabin an hour before Mason was due to meet me. I’d hoped having time alone in the quiet space would settle me.

It hadn’t.

I tried to write.

I couldn’t.

I stared out the window, seeking peace in the vastness of the mountains and the depth of the valley floor far below. But the landscape kept blurring before my eyes. My heart wouldn’t stop beating too fast. Every breath too short, too painful.

To keep myself busy, and because it needed to be done, I set up the fire, lighting kindling and stoking the small flames until they were ready to take on larger pieces of wood.

When that was finished, all I could do was wait.

I kept looking at the fire.

I’d pulled my writing notebook out of my bag several times, staring at the cover, considering throwing it into the flames and watching my words burn, a sacrifice, a plea to some pagan deity to intervene on my behalf.

But in my world, that kind of power, that magic, belonged to the Keepers. There was no one I could beg to spare me the suffering that waited on the horizon.

I still considered burning the notebook, simply to watch the fire devour the pages. To witness vital pieces of myself turn to ash.

What did poems or songs matter when I might lose Mason? It all felt so empty, so futile.

I needed this night with him, but I was also terrified of it. I hadn’t planned to ask. The request was an impulse born in the moment at lunch earlier today when Logan’s eyes found Mason and lingered. Of watching Mason go so terribly still. Of seeing an unwanted future unfolding before us and desperately needing to fight it, even for the space of a single night.

Fate, despite its cruelty, offered a small mercy: this place. A sanctuary where Mason and I could hide from the world until dawn.

It wasn’t enough. But it was all I could give him.

I was falling apart. I couldn’t fall apart. I wanted to be a fierce wolf for him, but I felt weaker than a mewling kitten.

Loving Mason was extraordinary. He was sunlight that drove away gloom. He was my heart.

I wasn’t lying when I told Dax I’d kill Logan if he hurt Mason. I would lay my life down in an instant to protect my mate.

Last night I wanted to do it. I would have if Mason hadn’t stopped me.

When I got his message, asking me to meet him not at our clearing or the Burnout, but at a place in the woods halfway between the Nightshade and Bane compounds, I knew something was very wrong. It should have been a relief that he was on his way to me instead of at Logan’s, where I assumed he would be all night. But the fact that it was early and Logan wasn’t keeping Mason at his house meant their evening had taken an unexpected turn. Logan wouldn’t have sent Mason away unless he was unhappy. An unhappy Logan was dangerous.

When Mason arrived at our meeting site, he was a ruined semblance of himself. I’d never seen him so distraught. He wouldn’t speak and he clung to me, shuddering violently, for a long time. I was terrified, not knowing what Logan had done, desperate to find out while also dreading it. Mason eventually pulled himself together enough to explain why he was so shaken.

At first, he held back, telling me only part of the story—that Logan discovered we’d hooked up right before Mason went to his house and was so angry we had no choice but to pretend to break up—but that alone wasn’t enough to leave Mason in such a wretched state. It took a lot of persuading before he relented and told me everything.