19. Chapter 19
19
Bram’s feet hit the floor, and he pounded down the stairs, shouting with excitement.
“The sky is on fire,” he called, racing out of the house. The door slammed open. I picked at my dinner in the kitchen, and put my plate on the bench as Hale, Ruck, and Oliver filed out. Oliver ducked his head in as he passed and jerked it to the front.
“Come,” his lips kicked up in a shy smile. “Please.” His gaze flickered to my picked-over plate, still full from when I dished it up hours ago. All but Hale had begged me to join them, but I couldn’t bear the tension.
My head was fuzzy as if filled with wool. I’d decided what I was going to do, and my chest was free of ropes for the first time since Hale discovered my secret. The hair on my arms stood up, prickled with every movement. What I was about to attempt was reckless, and I didn’t care. I wouldn’t let Hale decide my future for me.
My last meal in this kitchen was to be a celebration. Though no one else in the house knew it. I made beef sirloin, fluffy cornbread, mashed potatoes, and green beans. I’d even baked a peach cobbler with freshly churned cream. I slipped off the stool and trotted toward Oliver. He caged me against the wall, and I let out a surprised squeak, eyes widening.
“You didn’t eat your dinner.” His voice rumbled down my spine. His piercing green gaze cut through me, stitched with luscious memories of my heat. Where he took me with such passion, tenderness and care.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“No dessert either. You need to eat.” His eyebrow arched, and I let out a soft sigh. Oliver gripped my hips, clamping down with a firm squeeze. “Please, I can’t stand watchin’ you like this.”
I sucked in a surprised breath, my heart rate quickened. This wasn’t Oliver. Who stayed brooding, silent, caring for me in other ways. He stared at my lips with an intensity that froze my lungs.
Between my legs a heat built, a throbbing I couldn’t ignore. A need I couldn’t give in to. Oliver’s nostrils flared, catching my scent. I waited for him to reel away, to wrinkle his nose in disgust. I waited for him to kiss me, to take more from my willing body. But he did none of those things. Wrinkles crinkled at the edges of his eyes. He slid his hands from my waist to thread our fingers together.
“Let’s go look at the stars.”
He tugged me toward the door, and I let him, swallowing my nerves. Oliver released me to hold it open, and I stepped out with hesitation. The last time we’d all been in the same room together was at church, and it was horrible.
Now, the sky stretched wide before us, open and awe-inspiring. This was something Father Thomas could never write a sermon about. There was my faith, my hope. Maybe Oliver was right. The gods painted the sky with shooting stars. My nerves soon forgotten as I stared, slack-jawed, up into the sky. Each tail petered out and met with another shower of light.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“You know, the Oracle’s symbol is a star,” Oliver said softly, the corner of his lip kicked up.
The Oracle. The omega god. The lines of fate hooked into my heart. Had everything been leading to this moment?
This leap?
Bram grabbed my hand and pulled me into the yard, pointing up at a bright star whipping across the silky night sky.
“That one is the biggest.” He declared with a rush before sucking in a shocked gasp. “No, that one.” He whirled around and pointed at another star. It tore a path with its flickering orange tail. The shadowy form of Ruck sidled up next to us.
“You’re wrong, it’s that one.” He insisted, his finger chased the bright spark. Bram made a noise in his throat, pure skepticism.
“Are you kidding? That is so small I can barely see it.”
Oliver’s heavy boots crunched the ground. “What about that one? It’s huge.”
Bram leaned his small body against mine. He gesticulated, letting go of his iron grip to show how big the last one was. But he didn’t move away. Bram nudged my hands so they rested on his bony shoulders. My chest ached, and I stayed silent as he argued fiercely over the largest shooting star. Hale hovered on the porch but made his way down and waved at a large shooting star.
“What about that one?” His voice was cautious, caught doing something wrong by joining in.
But Bram didn’t feel the tension nor the slight bitterness of Hale’s scent, which didn’t linger long in the open air. Bram jumped up and down, and his innocent exuberance drew a ringing laugh from me. I froze, considered fleeing back into the house, but Ruck placed his hand on my lower back. He pressed it flat once before whipping it away.
Stay. His brief touch begged, and Bram tapped on my hands, impatient for a response to a question I missed. Goosebumps covered my arms, and the breeze rolled over them, eliciting a shiver.
“Which do you think was the biggest?” Bram pressed again.
I hummed in the back of my throat. Not wanting to answer and ruin this precious moment. How right it felt, all of us together for one last moment. Tomorrow I was leaving the ranch, to take my chances in the wildlands. But I soaked in the sensation of us all standing under the brilliant night sky.
Let it sink into my skin like a gift.
Was this the Oracle showing me a glimpse of the path we never walked?
It could have been this magical all the time. If we could’ve broken out of the cages of our past. Is this what our ancestors felt like? With their packs? I couldn’t ponder the question long as I spotted the biggest shooting star I’d ever seen. Its tail was bright, glimmering orange, yellow, and white, and it blazed across the sky like it owned it.
A sign from the gods. I knew it in my bones.
“That one, oh gosh, it’s so incredible.”
This star moved slower than the others, almost preening as it coasted an arc over our heads. A lump formed in my throat, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. My entire body blazed like the shooting star.
I would be as brave.
I would light a path through the darkness and be my own source of power. Still, I stole every moment I could of this precious last goodbye. They didn’t know it, but I did.
Goodbye to the bright, exuberant energy of Bram. I hope he remembered me.
Goodbye to Ruck, whose sweetness and charm filled me with warmth.
Goodbye to Oliver, whose stoic, solid presence kept me balanced and safe.
Goodbye to Hale, my husband. Who took up every empty space in my heart with his subtle love. Who still lived there, even though he despised me. I would be gone soon, and he would be free.
I woke at dawn. The load on my shoulders melted away. It was Sunday, and I was banned from attending church. But I’d heard the guys talking, and they were going to attend without me. I figured I would dress one last time, considering I was leaving most of my clothing here. I chose my prettiest frock. Apricot colored with a white collar. It was too fine for service at Misery Creek. My white lace gloves weren’t made for riding, but they were all I owned. There was no cause to ride in Breton City or use for leather gloves. Everything I owned was frivolous and impractical. But not my calluses.
I pinned back my curls with artful precision, making sure my neck was unencumbered. I traced the unmarred skin with a pang of regret. The length was enough for three bite marks, not just one. It was better for everyone that I left, but I would not do it on their terms. The quiet ease I’d woken with transformed into a jarring sickness by the time I descended the stairs. My face was so pale Oliver hurried forward to steady me.
“Esta?” he queried, and I brushed him off with a tight smile. “We’re getting ready to leave for town.”
They all looked incredible, with their hair slicked back. Ruck even tied a neck kerchief, and it made him look dapper. Were they doing this for me? The promise I’d asked of them back when I didn’t know how badly I would sin.
“We wish you could come with us.” Ruck twisted his hands, shooting Hale a dark look. Because Hale hadn’t claimed me. I was a danger to every alpha in town. The burn of three stares on my neck made me blush.
“I know. I thought it might cheer me, but I am feeling quite unwell.” I made my practiced apologies, intending to go back to the bedroom until they left. It wasn’t a lie. I felt like I was going to lose my stomach. There was nothing in it, but nausea threatened.
“But you’ve readied yourself into such a lovely picture,” Hale protested, clicking his mouth as soon as the words were out. His cheeks flamed, and he narrowed his eyes as if it were my fault.
“My stomach doesn’t agree with me,” I explained, rubbing to quell the surprising pang of guilt. I drank in the sight of them all. Last night, we felt like a family, and for a moment, this place was the joy I’d searched for my whole life.
But this was the last time I would see them.
Bram looked at me with suspicion, like he could read my thoughts. He opened his mouth, but Hale cut him off.
“Perhaps if you ate something instead of starving yourself, you might have more energy.” Hale’s lips flattened with the chastisement. If I hadn’t been so resolved, his harsh tone might have caused a blush or dragged a tart objection. As it was, I only inclined my head, willing myself to appear cold and disconnected.
“I’m sure you’re right. Goodbye.” I whispered, spinning on my heel to make my way up the stairs again.
The Hartlock men remained frozen in confusion. I caught the tail end of fierce mutterings, but they eventually made their way to the cart. I watched from behind my curtain, my stomach twisted as every single one of them stared up at the window. Could they see me? They’d hitched the cart to Simms and Greysock, and Ruck was riding Pebbles. The mare was sweet. The perfect horse to learn to ride on.
The horse I’d intended on escaping with today.
“Oh, no…” I sank to the ground, holding my stomach. What were my options now? There was only one horse left in the barn. Dalton. I was going to free him from his stall and follow him out into the wildlands. I pulled out the letters I’d written and spread them on the bed with a pang of panic.
Hale, Oliver, Ruck.
Their home was mine for a short while, and I wanted them to know how much I appreciated it, even though I didn’t dare say it to their faces. I dragged my rucksack from under the bed. It was stuffed with practical, warm clothes and enough dry supplies to last me a week. I was taking one of the small, lightweight pots from the kitchen and a few other supplies that I would tuck into the saddlebags. Pebbles could manage me and the extra weight. Dalton wouldn’t even let me near him. But I couldn’t stay here.
Hale was going to send me back to Breton City.
Straight into the clutches of Daniel. I couldn’t ride a train anywhere else, it would end as soon as someone caught my scent. There was guilt as well, of making an unwilling alpha react purely because of proximity. The crowded train was terrifying on my first journey. I couldn’t imagine doing it with my scent unmasked. I thought of Hale, how Claudia sent him into a rut and changed the course of his life. I didn’t want to damage anyone.
I just wanted to be free.
To find a home where I could be myself and truly live. I clenched my jaw and went to the barn. This was a reckless decision. Hale made it very clear my time here was limited. I’d already lost everything. I was going to throw my cares to the wind to see if the gods took pity on me.
Dalton didn’t care for fate, gods, or mercy, and he didn’t make it easy. He bucked his head and snapped at me twice, but I put a bridle over his head. I teetered on my box, needing the height to conquer the wild horse. Ruck managed to break Dalton enough to saddle him in recent weeks. But I had no such luck. I considered his bare back. It shuddered with frustration like I was a gnat he wanted to stomp underneath his hoof.
“Please.” I lay my sweating forehead on his side, his muscles tensed. “Help me. I can take you away from here. Isn’t that what you want?”
Dalton’s ears flicked back like he was listening and considering what I was saying. Some of the coiled tension melted from the wild stallion’s body, and I danced my fingers over his soft coat. He let out a sharp hiss of breath.
As if he was saying, get on with it, pesky woman.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”