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“No!” I whisper, my lips quivering. I forgot all about this scrapbook, I made it the day of my birthday, the day Satish ruined my life. I had been so excited to show Daddy, he bought me the book, and the pretty papers and glitter to decorate it. Now all that work had been ruined, scribbled over, and scratched into. Each picture featured my mother's face scratched out and my father’s eyes removed. Then there was me. The photos of me and Daddy had also been ruined.
“What is it?” Eziah asks as my fingers trace the page where my mother's face was removed.
“He ruined it,” I murmur, my lips quivering. His lips press to my forehead, and I jerk away, looking at him. Why does he keep doing that?
“I will get you another one, you can make a new one,” he whispers, and my brows furrow. He makes no other move to touch me, and I turn the page to see what was added to find newspaper clippings. They’re old, yellow staining the tattered paper, the edges worn and the picture crinkled and has fold lines, like it had been folded and folded many times. I pick it up, staring at the worn piece of paper. This isn’t mine? I don’t remember these pictures or know where they come from.
In the picture is a man in a suit, and police surrounding him. It looks like some crime scene photo, men sitting in the gutter, hands cuffed behind their back, their heads down looking at the gutter.
“The reaper wolves?” Eziah murmurs, making me look at him. I have heard that name before but I can’t remember where or why I heard it. Although I am sure I heard Satish mention it once. He was fighting with Daddy, but that is all I remember.
“Can I look at that?” he asks, his fingers touching the picture clipping. I let him take it, turning the next page, and my eyes widen in horror at what I see. My entire body trembles and I choke on air.
“That is Dominic, why do you have this? Do you know him?” Eziah asks, but I can’t take my eyes off the picture before me. It is me, not long after Daddy died, I know because I know exactly when this was taken. Satish took pictures, took pictures of the birthday present I received, the one I didn’t want. So many pictures of them doing the things they did and he just watched, letting them.
“Temperance, how do you know this—” Eziah asks, and his words cut off. He slams the book shut, and a feral growl leaves him. I am too shaken by the pictures of me tied down while they have their way with me to fear him. My entire body shakes when Eziah grabs my face, pulling my gaze from the scrapbook that is no longer filled with my parents, no longer filled with photos of me and Daddy, but photos of the torture Satish put me through.
My eyes meet Eziah’s golden ones, tears brimming in his eyes. Why is he crying? I blink at him trying to understand what this man wants from me when he finally speaks.
“Breathe, Temperance.” Only as he said the words do I realize I am choking, choking for air as the panic attack takes over, memories of that night assaulting my mind and consuming me.
“Nova!” I cry out for her. “Shadow?” I panic as my vision blurs.
“Temperance, breathe, I need you to breathe,” he says softly as I continue to choke, he grabs my face in both hands.
“They can’t hurt you, they can’t hurt you. They’re gone,” he whispers, his hands shaking as they clutch my face.
“They’re gone, look?” he moves his head to the side allowing me to see past him. “See, I killed them,” he murmurs, and I blink at what used to be cabins but are now ash and soot, remnants of cabins, remnants of what the pack used to be.
I exhale at the sight. They’re really gone? I don’t have to go back to them? I try to catch my breath, my breathing harsh as I see what remains, the smell of burning flesh and hair reaches my nose and I now know why. He killed them, just like the man in the woods. He killed them.
“See? You never have to fear anyone again,” he whispers, and my eyes move to his.
“I don’t…I don’t have…you’re not…” I can’t seem to form words for the questions I want to ask, stuttering terribly.
“Never... No one, and I mean no one, will ever hurt you again. Whoever tries will die, you are mine, Temperance, mine. You’re safe with me, mates protect each other and I will protect you,” he whispers clutching my face.
“Do you understand?”
I blink at him.
“I don’t need to go back?” I whisper the words, barely audible as they register.
“Never,” he whispers and overwhelming relief floods me, it steals the air from my lungs as I take in his words.
Tears burn my eyes at the thought of what he’s saying. They can’t hurt me. They can’t hurt Nova anymore. I don’t have to live in the dark. I’m free. I’m free just as we always prayed we would be.
ChapterSixteen
Eziah
Her relief hits me with the weight of a ton of bricks, it smashes against me as she takes in my words, her lips quiver, and tears trek down her cheeks. She finally breaks down. Her emotions flood into me, so much fear, fear that is suffocating, torturous lifts and overwhelms her. She breaks down, uncontrollably crying while I fight to remain calm, wanting to kill them all over again for making her feel this way, making her fear so strong, making her live the way she did.
I clutch her to me, letting her cry while silently crying with her. I’ve finally found her, after all those years of torture and enduring what she suffered through in my dreams. Listening to her screams, and begging, feeling her pain, it all lifted away because she is now safe, home. I will protect her, I will keep her safe and kill anyone that dares try to take her from me again.
Wrapping her legs around my waist, I pull the book from off her lap wishing I could burn it. But I know if Casen kept it, there has to be more information in it. Now I understand his hesitance in giving it to her; I wish I had listened. Clutching the newspaper clipping, I stare at it over her shoulder while she wails, huge hiccuping sobs wrack her body while I peer down at the old photo.
I have no doubt it’s Dominic, yet why is this photo in her scrapbook? How is he linked to all of this? I don’t want to ask her, don’t want to force her to remember things or question my intentions in needing to know. Opening the first page, I slip it back inside and shut it before hoisting her higher. Standing, I clutch her tighter, following the old beaten track back to the car.
