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TWENTY-FOUR
“So he’sin love with you, but you don’t know how to feel about him,” Char said.
“Right.” I nodded quickly.
She grabbed a measuring cup, and dumped most of the bag of chocolate chips into it, overflowing the rim by a true chocolate chip mountain. She liked to make food when she was processing shit; it was a thing she’d always done when I lived there, too.
“I’m sorry, I’m still not seeing the problem here.” She shot me a look. “He’s in love with you. Male werewolves always fall first; it’s nature. And they’re men, so they think with their dicks. And it sounds like his dick has had plenty of sexy time to decide it loves you. Or your vagina, at least.”
I shot her an exasperated look.
“He said he had no problem with you not being in love with him yet, so quit stressing about that and move on to the main problem. You’re scared.”
My exasperation turned to annoyance. “I’m not scared, Char.”
“Like hell you aren’t. You’re in pain every time you shift, you feel like you’re in over your head with the guy who’s supposed to be your soulmate, and your whole damn life just got turned upside down. If I were you, I’d be fucking terrified.”
My throat swelled. “Thanks for that.”
“Drop the sarcasm for once, Sab. This is real life, and real life is scary. You’re trying to protect yourself with this plan to push him away, but what’s the benefit? What are you protecting yourself from?”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me, dammit,” I grumbled at her, snagging a ball of cookie dough now that the chocolate chips were mixed in. She smacked at my hand with her spatula, like it was a damn sword.
“Someone’s gotta do it if you won’t.”
I sighed. “Fine. I guess I’m scared that he’s going to get tired of me, or get lost in his work, and I’m not going to matter to him anymore. I don’t know him; I don’t know how he responds to stress. What if he responds like my dad, and abandons me without actually leaving? I don’t think I could do that with a husband or mate, Char. I can only take so much, and my damned heart is too sensitive. I feel like that might kill me.”
“Good.” She nodded her approval.
“Good?” I asked incredulously “How is that good?”
“You’re finally being honest. That’s why it’s good. If you’re going to figure your shit out, you’ll need to be honest with both yourself and Dax. He needs to know exactly what you just told me, or things are going to get worse between you, not better.”
I made a face. “Damn you.”
She grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“I don’t suppose you have any rude remarks about why I don’t want to join the pack even though Dax is convinced I will.”
Her grin vanished, and her shoulders shrugged. “Fear again, probably.”
I eyed her suspiciously.
She sighed. “Look, wolf packs are just furry families. You’re either one of them, or you aren’t. Before, you were their sister’s friend, so they were friendly but they didn’t welcome you with open arms. Now, you’re their brother’s wife, so you’re permanent. They’re not being cruel; it’s just a different perspective. And I know it’s shitty, and hard, and feels unfair, but the way they treated you really wasn’t their way of being mean. They’ve just got a different perspective than we do.”
An inhuman one, I guessed.
“You say that like you have personal experience,” I remarked, studying her.
She grimaced. “I do, unfortunately. I was close with two different packs in particular, starting when I was a kid, and then continuing up until we graduated high school. When the first guy in each pack met his mate, everything changed. They saw me as one of the guys before—I became just a girl who wasn’t their mate afterward. They shut me out. And I know they weren’t doing it because they didn’t like me; I just wasn’t really family to them, like they were to me. Werewolves see things differently.”
“I’m sorry, that sounds hellish.”
She shrugged. “I got my degree, got a job I love. Got my own place. It’s a lot lonelier in town for me now than it used to be, and I’ve thought about moving out. But it’s home, you know? Despite all that shit, I love knowing everyone I pass. I love helping with the obnoxious teenage werewolves. I love being out in nature like we are, able to go for a hike almost immediately after walking through my own back door. Things are simple here, in a way that I love. I think I’d die here as a damn spinster before leaving this place I love so much.”
Strangely enough, I could understand it. Not her connection to Moon Ridge—I really wasn’t attached to the town for any reason other than Lizzy and Evan being there, and the house I loved.
But I did love my books, and my blog, and my online friends. I loved connecting with people, sharing the stories that helped us escape from the dreariness of our lives and the difficulties of our families and whatever the hell else we needed to escape from. Books gave us solace and peace that we needed so desperately in the wild world we lived in.
