Chapter 18
Soren
There’s still so much I don’t know about the day I was exiled to the future.
I haven’t had the courage to ask Lyall to show me.
It was hard enough just hearing about it.
Seeing it would be devastating. I feel like we have to, though.
It’s something we need to move past if we want to have a future together.
By the time my shift is done, I’ve made up my mind to ask Lyall more about what happened that day.
We’re meeting tomorrow. Lyall really enjoyed going ice skating, so I want to take him again.
When I get upstairs to my apartment, I’m surprised to find Fergus still up.
He’s relaxing on the sofa, a book in hand.
He looks up, glasses crooked on his nose, and smiles.
“Have a good shift?” he asks.
I take off my shoes and put them in the cubby. “Sure. No drama. You?”
He nods, setting his book aside. “Nothing to report. I had a talk with that boy of yours this morning.”
A sigh puffs out of my chest. “You’re being too hard on him. Lyall’s a great guy.”
Fergus folds his arms. “I’d believe that if you hadn’t shown up in this timeline alone and heartbroken.”
“That’s not Lyall’s fault.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice even. He’s judging Lyall before he’s even gotten a chance to know him. “Look, Gramps, I really like him. I know I’ve made shitty choices in the past, but that’s because they weren’t him. He’s…” Shit, what was the word Lyall used?
Fergus sits up with an unreadable expression on his face. “He’s your fated mate.”
I snap my fingers. “Yes! That’s the word.”
He sighs, shoulders slumping. “What did he tell you of fate?”
“I didn’t really understand most of it. I think the gist is that we were meant to meet and be together forever? Or something like that.” Since it looks like we’ll be here a while, I pull out a chair from the table and sit down opposite the sofa. “Why, what do you know about fated mates?”
“Wolves and witches can have fated mates. Through worship to our respective deities, we’re given great gifts. The gift of change, the gift of magic, and another great gift: the ability to know when we’ve found our one great love.”
“That’s pretty convenient. You never have to worry if things will work out.” I wish I’d found Lyall sooner. I could have saved myself a lot of heartache.
Fergus hums his agreement, plucking his glasses off his nose. “It’s one thing to claim you love someone. It’s another to fight to make things work.” When he looks at me, his brow is lined with concern. “I’m not convinced Lyall fought for you, Soren.”
My spine stiffens. “How do you—”
“Because he let you go. He said so himself.”
My throat tightens with a sudden rush of panic, remembering all the men from my past who told me they loved me, only to leave me.
I shake my head. “I don’t know every detail about that day.
I know that Lyall’s father was killed, his family village destroyed.
The pack turned against me. They chose to exile me. ”
“So why didn’t Lyall follow you into exile?”
“Because—”
Why had he let me go? True, he’d searched for me all these years, but if he’d only gone with me, he could have saved himself that pain.
“I don’t know,” I admit, voice cracking.
“The Norns can only do so much,” Fergus says softly. “They guide our paths, but ultimately we are the ones in control of our destiny, Soren. You can still walk away. Fated mates or not, you aren’t bound to him.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s finished speaking. “No.”
“You barely know him—”
“I know enough!” I snap. “I know he’s the kindest, sweetest person I’ve ever met. I know he’s patient and devoted and loyal. I know that all my life, something has been missing, and I couldn’t find it again until I found him. And now that I have, I’m not letting him go.”
“Soren, there’s nothing stopping him from letting you go again.”
Heart pounding, I push to my feet and slam my chair back under the table. “I’m an adult, Fergus. If he breaks my heart, so be it. I’d rather be heartbroken from loving him than go another damn day without knowing him.”
And, like an adult, I storm into my bedroom and slam the door. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I undress, and crawl into bed. There’s a message waiting for me in my inbox.
I smile at the photo of a white dove perched on a fire escape railing.
He’s left a voice message, and my heart skips when I press the play button and his low, deep voice pours from my speakers.
“I asked my brother what this bird was. He said it is called a dove. Like a pigeon but with different colors. Jamie says they mate for life. I also mate for life. I have much in common with this bird.”
A laugh bubbles out of my chest, and damn it, I wish he was here so I could kiss him and tell him I—
Whoa, slow down a little. Remember what happened all the other times you thought you loved a guy?
My grandfather’s doubts are getting into my head. I don’t want to be mistrustful or afraid, not of Lyall. Rather than text back, I call him. He answers halfway through the first ring.
“Soren? Are you well?”
The concern in his voice makes me smile. “I’m fine. Just missed you.”
He chuckles, and I don’t know when that became my favorite sound in the world. All I know is that I want to hear it all the time, to be the cause of it. “Missed you too,” he says.
“I wanna go ice skating with you again,” I say.
“That was fun. My ass is still sore where I took that fall, though.”
“Mine too.”
When he laughs, I can’t help joining in.
I need to know what happened that day.
My humor fades, my smile falling from my face. “Lyall?”
“Aye, love?”
I swallow hard, hoping I won’t regret this. “Can you show me what happened that day?”
There’s an audible hitch in his breathing, and for a long moment, he’s quiet.
“Never mind, you don’t have to. I just—” How do I ask why he didn’t go with me?
“You deserve to know,” Lyall says, voice heavy and reluctant.
“If it’s going to hurt you, I don’t want to.”
“Time has stolen much of the pain. What hurts the most is being the only one who knows the truth of that day and not being able to tell my brothers.”
His confession makes my chest hurt. “Then show me the truth, Lyall. Tomorrow.”
“I will,” he vows. “But, Soren…”
I wet my lips, heart skipping. “Yeah?”
“No matter what you see… just remember that I’ll always come back for you.”
I believe him. I do.
I want to swan dive into love with this man and trust he’ll catch me. I’m sick of being scared. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m not letting him go. A part of me knows he’s it. The one I’ve been waiting for.
All I need to do is let down my walls, and let Lyall in.
Lyall’s worried.
I can see it in the stiff set of his shoulders and the furrow in his brow that doesn’t disappear even when he smiles at me. It’s a ghost of his usual sunny smile, barely touching his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out to him.
He opens his arms and pulls me in, holding me to his chest for several long seconds. I run my hands up and down his strong back. His shoulders loosen when he sighs into the crook of my neck.
“We don’t have to do this,” I tell him. “You could stay. There’s no reason for you to have to witness it again.”
Lyall shakes his head. He pulls back and squeezes my shoulders, giving me a smile that softens the worry wrinkling his forehead. “I’ll be there, love. Just… can we do something fun first?”
I’m more than up for that. “Sure.” There’s a vendor selling ice cream nearby. “Ever had ice cream before?” I ask, taking his hand and leading him to the cart.
He gives me a bewildered look. “Ice and cream? How does that work?”
“It’s frozen cream and sugar, basically.”
“Sounds delicious,” Lyall says, and so it’s decided.
I buy us each an ice cream, and we find ourselves a bench to sit on.
What little snow we had over the weekend melted.
It’s cold outside, but when Lyall sits beside me and loops an arm over my shoulders, I warm up inside and out.
Lyall tears open his ice cream sandwich, gives it a sniff, and takes a bite.
I wince just imagining how cold his teeth must be.
Lyall moans his approval and goes in for another bite. “This is brilliant! Frozen cream and… what’s this? A cookie?”
His enthusiasm for the most mundane things never fails to make me laugh. “I’m kind of surprised you don’t have ice cream in your time. Obviously you don’t have refrigerators but it must get pretty cold where you’re from.”
“It does, aye.”
“So, what if you made some cream, put it in a bucket, and I don’t know, left it on a glacier or something?”
Lyall’s face lights up. “Oh, I get it now! It would freeze, and then I could bring it back to my pack.”
I can’t help leaning in to kiss him. He tastes like chocolate, so sweet and addictive it’s hard to pull away. Lyall suddenly breaks the kiss and steals a big bite of my ice cream.
“Hey!”
Lyall swallows the chunk of ice cream he bit off, and his face twists into one of agony as he grabs his head in his hands. “Cold. By the gods, it’s so cold!”
I bark a laugh. “That’s what you get!”
“Soren… I think I’m dying…” Lyall groans and rubs his forehead.
I huff and give his shoulder a pat. “You’ll be fine.”
Once Lyall’s recovered from his brain freeze, he decides he’s had enough ice cream for the day. When we board the boat, I’m munching on both his and mine while Lyall takes up the oars. That troubled look comes back on his face.
Reaching out, I squeeze his knee. “I’m right here.”
The light from the portal whites out Lyall’s face, and when it fades, we’re rowing toward a familiar island. Lyall gets out, water sloshing around his ankles, and heaves the boat the rest of the way to shore.
Farther down the beach, a crowd has gathered before a pyre.
I freeze when I realize that the man resting on top of the pyre is Lyall’s father.
It’s Erik. He’s dead. I turn to check on Lyall and find his face blank.
“This is the day it all ended.” There’s no emotion in his voice, and it unsettles me.
When a younger version of Lyall steps from the crowd, my breath catches. His eyes are red-rimmed, face grimy with dirt. His lip quivers as he draws a bow taut, flame rising from the arrowhead, and releases it. The pyre goes up in flames, consuming the body.
I look away, stomach churning. “Oh god, Lyall…”
Present Lyall doesn’t speak as he turns away from the funeral to face the water.
Before I can reach out to him, a voice catches my attention.
“I swear to you all, I will help lead our pack out of this darkness.” It’s Wulfric.
His voice is small, stuck somewhere between a boy’s and a man’s.
God, he looks so young. They all do. Too young for such a terrible tragedy.
“We will heal and come back from this terrible loss. I will honor Father’s memory and be the Alpha you all deserve. ”
Gunnar and Lyall go to their brother and comfort him. Anders doesn’t. He glares at Wulfric like his brother is to blame for all of this. I search the crowd of grief-stricken faces but don’t find my own among them.
“My… my father did this?” My voice comes out as a croak.
“Aye,” Lyall says flatly.
I swallow hard, guilt thickening my throat. “Where am I?”
“By this point, you’d been imprisoned. The whole village thought you’d conspired with your father.
” Lyall’s hands clench. “All those years you spent among us, and they turned on you in their desperation for someone to blame.” He shakes his head, muscles ticking in his jaw.
“Fools, all of them. My brothers too.” He turns and marches back toward where the village is.
My heart aches at hearing him so angry. I almost don’t want to follow him, dreading what happens next, but he went through it alone and I’m not going to let that happen again.
When Past Lyall leaves the funeral and walks the path to town, I follow.
Shoulders slumped, he drags his feet through the street, sniffling softly.
I wish I could reach out and touch him to let him know he’s not alone.
Once Past Lyall arrives at the longhouse, he approaches a cellar door along the side of the house. My stomach churns because I have a feeling I know what’s down there.
Present Lyall reclines against a wall nearby. He barely acknowledges me when I come up beside him. Lyall’s past self heads down into the basement. Present Lyall grabs my arm before I can go after him. “Are you sure you want to see? It’s still upsetting to me, even after all this time.”
I make myself nod. “I have to know.” Heart thudding, I follow Past Lyall down into the basement.