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And that’s probably why I want to put my fists through the walls of this cave right now.
“Talk to us,” Tyson requests, likely sensing my frustration through our pack connection.
I down a long drink of the tepid water. All eyes are on me.
Finally, I dig deep, dig where I’ve never truly shared from and say, “It happened in a field of wildflowers. Saw her the day before and was curious. But the next day, seeing her, catching her scent, I knew she was mine.”
I haul air into my lungs then expel it slowly before continuing, finding it difficult to not simply shift and go on another rampage. “We only spent a few hours together and it was…” I shrug. “Felt like everything you hear it’ll be when you find her. Dug everything about her. I wanted to seal it. I knew it didn’t make sense, that it shouldn’t have been my turn since Mase hadn’t mated. Didn’t know you were alive then either, Ty; didn’t catch your scent until almost half a year later. But that day? I felt it and knew it was real, that she was it. She was this tiny, beautiful thing surrounded by flowers. She got timid when I told her the truth. What I am. How I knew I wanted to take her home and keep her. Explained things to her, knowing she wasn’t shifter and wouldn’t know otherwise. Thought she was human; didn’t smell the magic on her. Told her I’d show her my wolf to prove I wasn’t batshit crazy. But she ran, fell off a cliff and disappeared into the river. It… it gutted me. I tried to get to her, but she was just … just…” I snapped my fingers. “Gone. Vanished. Blamed myself.” My nostrils flare and my voice goes guttural, “And then I find out she’s a witch who’s been hiding from me. Hiding, masking her scent, and knowing what it did to me?” I shake my head.
“You didn’t spend very long in her van,” Jase states.
“No.” I keep shaking my head.
“Didn’t like what she had to say?” Jase pushes.
“Didn’t give her a chance to spew lies,” I state.
Jase’s jaw flexes.
“I spoke to her late last night,” Tyson tells me.
I flinch. And avoid the strange urge to grab my cousin’s throat.
He goes on, “She’s here to explain.”
“Stop. Don’t wanna talk about this.”
I’m feeling too much. I feel like I’m about to lose it. I can’t do this.
Ty’s mate already told me the witch had given her a message when they all got back from Marblehead.
“She didn’t mean it, Riley,” Ivy told me. “She didn’t mean to stay away, but she had no choice. It’s haunted her every day since.”
Empty words that meant nothing to me.
Mase takes a breath, about to speak, so I lift a hand.
“At all. Don’t wanna talk about it at all, brothers. I need to go. But first, what’s happening? Where are Grey, Linc, and Joel? What else? I’ve got the sense there’s more going on than my bullshit. You’re okay?” I ask Tyson. He was shot yesterday. And here he sits looking absolutely fine, thankfully.
“I’m good,” Ty assures. “But Riley…”
“No. Anything but me. Tell me what’s happening around here. I know there’s things happening.”
“Amie’s pregnant,” Mase announces.
A smile cracks my otherwise stone-cold face. Despite all I’m feeling, Mase looks ecstatic. I feel it from him as well as see it on him and I’m stoked for him. I approach and he stands. As we embrace, I say, “Congratulations, my brother.”
“Thanks, Rye,” Mason slaps my back. “Found out last night. Over the fuckin’ moon.”
“Over the strawberry moon,” Jase puts in. “Sure there’s other babies on the way, too. How’s your mate taking it?”
Mason laughs. “She’s on cloud nine. She thought she was infertile. Was convinced of it. She just hadn’t met me yet.” He looks proud.
“Thrilled for you, man,” I thump my chest with my fist. I am. As thrilled as I can be given my current state.
“It’s a boy,” Mase adds with an emotional look in his eyes. “Just the size of a seed right now but it’s a boy. I smelled him on her. I already have a bond with him. Can’t explain it, but I do. I can’t…” Mason’s voice has gone gruff. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Great news. Could be the start of the next gen council,” I say.
I wanted kids. A lot of kids. I’ve given up on the idea of that.
Her face flashes in my mind. Her wild copper-colored hair that seems to twirl down her back to nearly her waist. Half a foot longer than last time I saw her. More of it. Begging to be fisted.
I see the way she twirled in the field of flowers that day so long ago with her head thrown back, a smile on her face, hands upturned, like she was summoning something as she twirled barefoot in those flowers, singing with joy. Wildflower bouquets in her hands. Summoning all right. Summoning me.
