Chapter 8 Riven
EIGHT
RIVEN
My world had collapsed, caved in on itself and destroyed what I loved.
Indigo.
The damned Christmas lights flashed on and off, and I yanked the cable from the wall with such force, the tree toppled over and ornaments smashed. They reminded me of my heart.
Go after him. Or I will. My wolf was so distraught he insisted he take his fur and follow our mate.
No! I was in no mood for my beast taking charge. That will make it worse. Though how much worse could it be?
The minutes ticked by, irritating me by acting as though nothing had happened. Time should have come to a screeching halt and all attention should be on me because Indigo was horrified by who I was.
But the council had to be informed of what happened. I hated that my personal business would become public property, but that was the way of the pack. Very little could be kept secret.
I grimaced at the sour taste in my mouth, and I fell onto the couch, ready to dial Antonia.
“Didn’t go well, huh?”
“He thinks it was all a lie.” My voice cracked. “Everything between us.”
“Give him time.” Antonia’s wasn’t one to wallow and wouldn’t allow me to. “His worldview has shattered.”
“Time?” I tugged at my hair. “That won’t help. My mate thinks I'm a monster.”
“That’s not true. He cares for you. Anyone with eyes can see that.”
“You didn't see his face.” I shuddered at the memory. “It was as though he’d woken up from a nightmare.”
“The council.” She changed the subject.
“Yes.” I rubbed my eyes, wanting to sleep and blot out the memory of tonight. “Call them. Meeting at dawn.”
After she hung up, I stared at the star on the floor near my foot. Crashing onto the hardwood had chipped a bit off one point. I was tempted to crush it under my boot but shattering it wouldn’t improve my mood.
Instead, I wandered through the cabin tidying up.
A coffee cup Indigo had left in the sink and the book he’d been reading was still open.
He’d forgotten a sweater draped over a chair, and I brought it to my face and inhaled his scent.
I pressed harder so the wool smothered me and my tears mingled with the knitted stitches.
I ran my mind over the days since we’d met.
Maybe I should have told him sooner. But when and how?
The night the wolves howled in the forest?
Or when we were on our hike and we startled a deer nearby?
There was no handbook that laid down the rules for how a shifter informed his human mate who he was.
Sleep refused to claim me, and just before dawn, I headed to the lodge.
The elders sat around a large table with my uncle at the head. Their grim expressions were expected, though that could be because they had to get up early. But that idea or maybe it was a delusion was shattered when Uncle Lionel spoke.
“You lost control.” His lips curled into a snarl.
“I didn't. I was blindsided.” I kept my voice level, not wanting to inflame the situation more than it already was. “Indigo wasn't supposed to be on the path during the run.” Even to my ears it sounded like a sorry excuse, and Uncle held up his hand.
“A human knows about us before you mated.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “And the same human has moved out of your cabin. I’m guessing his reaction wasn’t favorable.”
My stomach clenched at being reminded of Indigo’s face.
An elder spoke up. “What if he returns to his normal life and tells everyone about us?”
My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth. “He won’t. We can trust him.” I gave him my heart and he flung it back, but he was a good person. He was in shock.
Uncle slammed his fist on the table. “Your judgment is compromised because of the mate bond.”
I took a moment to respond because I was seething that he would consider my mate a threat to the pack.
“My bond with him hasn’t affected my assessment of his character.” I kept my hands in my lap because I was worried I’d smash them on the table. “I know him.” I hoped that was true.
“What are his plans?” Aaron, another elder, spoke up.
“He’s upset and wants time to think.”
Uncle snorted. “And what if he storms out in an hour? What then?”
As bleak as the situation was, I refused to consider that Indigo would leave without us having a heart-to-heart.
“I will speak to him. It’s a lot to take in and he’s scared.” Once he understood we weren’t a threat, I hoped he’d listen to me.
“You’re too optimistic.” Uncle Lionel glared at me. “It was the one trait I knew would be your downfall one day.”
Wow! Thanks for the vote of confidence.
“The human—”
I cut off Uncle and raised my voice as I held back tears. “His name is Indigo. After I explain about us, I’m hoping he’ll see the joy in knowing that his world has expanded.”
“And if he rejects you?” another elder asked.
My heart clenched at the possibility. “That's his choice.”
Uncle Lionel narrowed his eyes. “You would accept his rejection? Knowing what it would mean for you?”
“I would respect it.”
No, I wouldn’t. My wolf refused to believe our mate wouldn’t accept who we were.
Uncle glanced at each of us around the table. “You have ten days.”
It was better than I hoped for. It’d be after the new year and Indigo was due in court. But it wasn’t today or tomorrow. It was only then I remembered today was Christmas. Merry Christmas to me.
I thanked Uncle and the council, but he told me not to thank them yet. He doubted I’d succeed and we’d be back here in ten days. I’d be broken-hearted and the elders would have to grapple with a human knowing who we were.
I returned to the cabin, anxious to be surrounded by his scent. In the midst of the broken ornaments were two presents that we’d placed under the tree. We might never get to open them.
By midday, my tummy growled, and I strode to the lodge because pack members and the other guests would be gathering for the Christmas meal. But as I entered the dining room, I was assaulted by a scent, and it wasn’t the turkey, gravy, or apple pie.
Indigo. My wolf was on tiptoes inside me trying to find him in the crowd. He was sitting at a small table at the back, reading a book. As much as I wanted to stay, he’d asked for space. I’d grab a plate of food from the kitchen and eat in the cabin. There I could wallow in my sadness and despair.
But maybe he scented me or it was just rotten luck and his head jerked up. His eyes locked on mine. His puffy face and red eyes told a story, and I longed to hold him in my arms and comfort him. But he looked away, and his head dropped and he studied the book.
My knees buckled, though I stayed upright as the pain in my heart reminded me of when my beast had been shot with an arrow by a human who lived high up in the mountains. I slunk away, forgetting about the food, and trudged through the snow to the cabin.
“Sandwiches and leftovers.” I slammed the fridge door and grabbed an apple instead.
Run. My wolf wanted to be in his fur so he could think of something other than our mate.
I agreed, and he shifted, not looking for prey, just trying to outrun our grief.
The snow muffled my beast’s paws as they pounded through the forest. But hours of being in the woods, in the place where I always went to solve my problems, didn’t help.
If Indigo couldn’t see past who I was and admit his feelings were intact, we were doomed.
No, I was. He’d go on with his life, a little battered and bruised, but he’d recover.
When I got back to the cabin, I built up the fire and the phone beeped, but I ignored it, fearing it might be Indigo saying he was leaving. But it dinged again, and I studied the display. It was Antonia.
He asked for books on our history and the mate bond.
That one sentence brightened my mood. Indigo was open to learning about us.
Go to him.
No. My beast had no concept of alone time.
I texted Antonia. Did he ask about me?
The phone was heavy in my hand as I awaited her reply.
Not in so many words, but it’s a good sign he wants to learn.
Maybe I’d get a chance to tell him the three words I hadn’t gotten up the courage to say to his face.
I love you.