31. Simon
I gulp down the last of the cool, sweet tea that Isobel poured for me, ignoring Tál’s mournful yowl as we eye the platter of sandwiches. As much as I’d love to eat more, or even wrap some up for once I’m forced to leave, I refuse to both take advantage of Isobel’s good nature and generosity, or to be a poor house guest and overstay my welcome.
While he allowed me to wallow in sorrow and despair, Tálstrom never hid his actions from me. I may have been a passenger in our mind, locked in for the entire ride, but I wasn’t unaware. I felt every touch, experienced every smell, sight, and taste, and reveled in the devotion Isobel inspired in us both.
Quin is my brother, and I’ll protect and cherish his mate until his return. Even if it comes at the cost of my own happiness.
I brace myself against the inevitable hatred and disgust that will be the result of my revelations, but it’s nothing I haven’t earned or experienced before. I guess I’m just lucky that the worst I’ve had happen to me was being spat on and slapped. Generally speaking, most people just spurn me or treat me like scum after they learn of my past. The only exceptions to that have been at Reficio, and when I was locked up in Vieux Sang. It would seem that the beaten and broken have more mercy in their hearts than those who have never endured such suffering.
But perhaps that is unfair of me. After all, I am the architect of my own demise. Until I hit rock bottom myself, consumed with guilt and self-loathing, I’d never fully realized the pain and suffering I’d inflicted on others. Perhaps that mercy is hard earned, and expecting others to emulate it without experiencing the agonies that have granted us such insight without also enduring the same suffering is uncharitable and cruel.
“I became an Altered shifter after I needed to have a one-sided, unintended mating bond broken. The official conducting the procedure didn’t just sever that bond, however. She attempted to, and mostly succeeded in destroying all my bonds. Out of the hundred-odd bonds I had when I walked into that room, only eight survived. Four were familial bonds I shared with my parents and siblings, and the other four were blood bonds I’d formed only minutes earlier.”
Three shocked faces stare at me from around the table as they try to comprehend the bombshell I’ve just dropped. The fourth is more curious, the grizzled and wrinkled owner filing away the information I’m providing.
It’s Isobel who asks the most pertinent and devastating question, though, and I shudder as Tálstrom preemptively mourns the loss of her friendship. After all, she’ll be the one most likely to fully grasp the severity of my crimes.
“But… why? Why would the official do that to you?”
My lips twist in a mockery of a smile.
“Because she felt I deserved nothing less than obliteration when she found out I’d callously and cruelly disavowed and rejected my fated mate.”
Isobel recoils, confusion painted across her face.
“And what did your fated mate think of all this, boy?”
Josiah isn’t looking at me with hatred or disgust. There’s a calculated awareness in his gaze that has me tensing up under his unwavering stare.
“What makes you think they’re still alive to comment?” I shoot back.
Josiah chuckles darkly, causing the fine hairs over my body to lift.
“Because I keep my ear to the ground when it comes to shifter current affairs, and it was only a few months ago that two ex-Shifter Council Members were dispatched for their betrayals to the Council and shifter kind.” Josiah takes a slow sip of the water in his glass, then leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine.
“Ninety-seven counts of destroying bonds and one hundred and five counts of attempted murder, wasn’t it? I heard that the Champion you invoked didn’t leave much of that uppity swan afterward. Especially since your ex-mate spoke in your defense, and it turns out she’s one of the shifters who blood bonded with you. That don’t sound like your ex-mate hates you or is dead now, does it?”
I swallow hard.
“It sounds to me like you’ve spent the past several years trying to make amends for the stupidity of your youth. If the person most affected and damaged by your rejection has found it in themselves to not only forgive you, but to accept you as part of their family, then who am I to argue with them? It makes me wonder, though…” Josiah stares into my very soul, and it feels like he’s rummaging around inside my mind for the answers he’s searching for.
“Where did you disappear off to, Simon Gatto? And why are you here of all places?”
***
Josiah had ushered his grandsons out of the house after I refused to answer his questions. While he had a right to know my reasons for being at the sanctuary, Tál and I had already decided that the first person to hear our full story would be Isobel. After all, it was her mate that was still missing, and the reason for Tál’s appearance on her doorstep.
I sit at the table in silence as Isobel putters around the kitchen, making work to keep herself occupied. I’m scrambling for something to say, some sort of reassurance I can provide to put her at ease, but she speaks first.
“You know who I am, don’t you?”
I clear my throat, but my voice is still husky as I utter the word, “Yes,” in response.
“Did… did he tell you about me, about us?” Isobel’s voice wavers with emotion.
Again, my voice rasps in my throat. “Yes.”
“Is he… is my… Quin? Is he still alive?”
The pain and fear suffusing Isobel’s last four words tears my heart to shreds. I wish I could assure her that he’s safe and healthy and on his way to her, but I can’t. While the bond tethering us together still holds life, it is muted and stifled.
But I can’t tell her that, not if I want her to retain hope.
“I believe he is, yes. We formed a blood bond a while back, and while I can’t tell you where he currently is or what he’s doing, I know he’s alive. We were forcibly separated, and I know that nothing short of enforced captivity would keep him from you.”
I look up from where I’d been staring at the table, meeting Isobel’s desperate gaze with my own resolute one.
“He adores you, Isobel. He never intended to leave you alone. He was always going to come back to you, but the people he told you about, the ones he was running from? They found him. He couldn’t take the risk of them finding you. But he told me about you, about how you and your grandfather cared for him when he was shot, and how he made a home with you. He told me everything. It’s how we knew where to come when Tálstrom was able to fight free.”
Silent tears well in Isobel’s eyes before spilling over her lids, trickling in solitary, heart-rending tracks down her cheeks.
“Will you tell me your story, Simon? Will you tell me all the dark and sordid details, of what brought you to this moment in time?”
If I’m to stay here by her side and expect her trust, I can do nothing less.
I tell her.
EVERYTHING.