4. Four
Four
March 2022 - Present Day
Connor Kelly
F or a brief moment when I wake up, it’s just another familiar day of standard abject misery. That’s until the memories from yesterday come flooding back to assault my mind.
No, today is a day that definitely comes under the category of, maybe if I claw my own skin off, I won’t have to go through with it , kind of day. Unfortunately, I’m certain that on this occasion, my da would drag my skinless body around that table and have me sign the agreement with my own blood if necessary.
The sound of Niamh stomping up the staircase like a baby elephant pulls me out of my spiralling thoughts. Please don’t be up here to talk to me , I say to myself internally right before there’s a loud knock on the bedroom door.
We’re staying in my crotchety Uncle Karl’s farmhouse in Marsden; it’s on the very edge of our territory. Thankfully, Karl should be out herding the cows by now. I ignore the knock, knowing fine well Niamh will burst through the door in less than five seconds, regardless of an invitation.
“One of these days, dear sister of mine, you’re gonna walk in on somethin’ you don’t want to witness,” I say as she appears on cue.
“When we were fourteen, I could literally hear your loud, gross pubescent thoughts when we were shifted. I’ve never been able to look at Kieron Cooper the same way since. What’s another item on the agenda for my future therapist,” she says brightly.
My face flushes with embarrassment. Kieron was my first boyfriend; we went out for roughly six months as teenagers. He preoccupied most of my thoughts at the time, and they often leaked out when I was in my wolf form.
Niamh’s mind, on the other hand, has always been a steel trap, so I’ve got nothing on her. Thankfully, by the time I’d met Phoenix, I’d learned to lock those thoughts away.
“Why are you so chipper today? It’s annoying.” I shoot her my best scowl with the scant energy I can muster.
“Well, dear brother of mine , my disgraced husband is out herding cows to avoid running into our father. My twin brother is about to marry his ex-boyfriend and my ex-fiancé. Frankly, Eastenders has nothing on our family drama, and if we don’t laugh, we’ll cry, Con, so buck up; you’re getting married today.”
“When you put it that way, you make it seem almost unreasonable that I’m contemplating launching myself out of the window.”
“You and I both know that if you do that, the worst that’ll happen is a broken leg, and I don’t think you need to make today any more painful than it’s already going to be. Now get dressed; you need to look hot for the ol’ ball and chain.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head at her.
“No, you won’t get dressed? Or no, I’m not allowed to refer to Phoenix as your ol’ ball and chain?”
“The latter,” I confirm. “I’ll get dressed; today is gonna be humiliatin' enough without addin' nudity into the mix.”
“Nice, that’s the positive attitude we know and love you for, Con.” She winks at me and starts dragging clothes from the wardrobe on the room’s far wall. I let out the deepest sigh of my life.
Fee and I—I mean Phoenix and I—stand side by side at one end of the room while my da and Alpha Campbell put the final signatures on the peace agreement.
“You look good,” Phoenix says softly under his breath, still looking straight ahead.
“I figured I’d dress to match the mood of the day,” I reply sarcastically. I’m dressed in black from head to toe because I am, in fact, petty as fuck.
I don’t return the compliment. It’s actually rude of him to look this good. The navy blue suit he’s wearing is tailored to him perfectly and complements his olive complexion in a way that should be illegal.
“It’s good you finally got to put the suit you bought for marrying my sister to use; it would have been a shame for it to have gone to waste.” I’m aiming for snarky, but the hurt in my voice is evident. Phoenix opens his mouth and closes it again, clearly thinking better of what he was going to say before clenching his jaw so tight it would take a crowbar to prise it back open.
I have a natural gift for making bad situations worse. Apparently, I’ve decided it’s not enough for this day to obliterate what’s left of my own shredded heart; I need to inflict some extra damage on him to even the playing field.
With the paperwork finalised, we file out of the house and into the garden, resembling a funeral procession. I knew my outfit choice would really complement the day’s sombre atmosphere.
The marriage ceremony is small today. Quite the opposite to the circus show the public wedding next weekend will be. Phoenix and I stand opposite each other in front of Calvin Eastwood underneath a wicker archway with white flowers weaved into it. Obnoxiously romantic for the circumstances, in my opinion.
Calvin is extremely tall and as broad as his dad, Alpha David Eastwood. Alpha Eastwood is adored by everyone in the region. His parents moved to England from Jamaica shortly before he was born, fleeing their pack for reasons similar to my da’s. He’s known for being approachable with a great sense of humour, and he’s clearly raised his son to follow in his footsteps. Calvin must be nearing six foot five; his brown skin is lighter than his dad’s since his mum is white. He has a calming presence I’m grateful for today.
His younger sister, Jade, is one of the witnesses today. She’s married to Phoenix’s brother Jasper, and their baby son, Henry, is sleeping in a sling cocooned against her chest.
Our respective Alphas stand close by, and I get a pang of envy at seeing Phoenix’s mum standing there when mine remains frozen in the past, existing only in memories.
The other witnesses on Phoenix’s side include his dad and younger brother Alfie. On my side, there’s Sam, Niamh and Will. As far as I know, the latter are the only people who know the whole truth of this catastrophe. I imagine that for them, this is not dissimilar to watching a car crash; you know it'll be grim, but morbid curiosity wins out, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look the other way.
I’ve not been paying attention to what Calvin’s been saying, mainly focusing my eyes on the trees behind Phoenix. As I shift my gaze, I glance at him, and I’m shocked to see those familiar soft brown eyes filled with so much hurt that if I had to speak right now, I think I’d choke on the words.
A niggle of regret stirs in my stomach over lashing out at him earlier. Still, I remind myself of his betrayal and the self-righteousness I’ve cloaked myself in for the past year, extinguishes any remaining embers of guilt.
Calvin’s voice uttering the vows we have to repeat back sounds distant, as though I’m listening from underwater.
Phoenix squares his shoulders, rallying for battle.
“I, Phoenix Frederick Campbell, promise you, Connor Liam Kelly, to honour and protect you, place your life above my own, and care for and cherish you until death parts us.” His eyes are glassy and filled with so much love and regret it pierces a small hole in my armour.
How am I supposed to stand by my resolve to hate him forever when he looks at me like that?
Now it’s my turn. I take a deep breath and silently beg my voice not to quiver, giving me away. Because I’m not completely deluded, I’m well aware this farce of a marriage will wreck me irrevocably.
“I, Connor Liam Kelly, promise you, Phoenix Frederick Campbell, to honour and protect you, place your life above my own, to care for and cherish you—” My voice cracks on the word cherish, and I swallow a large gulp of air before continuing,“—until death parts us.” My eyes burn, remembering the hours I used to spend dreaming of the day Phoenix and I would stand in front of our families and be able to claim each other out in the open.
Be careful what you fucking wish for.
“You may now kiss,” Calvin says and my stomach drops. I'm not entirely sure how I managed to forget this fairly significant part of a wedding ceremony. We both hesitate, staring at each other wide-eyed. His gaze flickers to everyone watching, but I can tell from his expression that he's leaving the choice to me. I give him a barely-there nod, and we meet in the middle. It's chaste, a featherlight brush of his lips against mine, but it wakes up something inside me that I've worked hard to bury. Part of me wants to wipe my lips with the back of my hand, to try and undo the last thirty seconds, but it's too late. The endless memories of countless kisses are tattooed on my lips. Permanent. Irreversible.
With everyone seemingly oblivious to my internal crisis, Nina Fenwick replaces Calvin and stands between us. Nina is tall and slender, with smooth, dark brown skin and a bright, playful smile.
“Today’s binding ceremony is slightly different to normal,” she explains. “While I’ll be binding the two of you together in matrimony, I’ll also be binding you to this land.”
Well fuck, that sounds both potentially painful and concerning.
“Don’t look so worried, love,” she says, squeezing my shoulder as you would console a child.
Firstly, we tackle the part I’m familiar with. I watch as she pulls something from the pocket of her maroon blazer. A knife. The sun glints off the sharp metal blade as she unsheathes it.
Nina uses it to slice a shallow cut across our right palms and then presses our cut hands together. I have to hide my physical reaction to feeling his skin on mine for the first time in a year. A strong wind could knock me off my feet, and yet, the pull I've been ignoring for so long finally fades away. Nina cocoons our joined hands in between her own before closing her eyes.
“This binding is a magical manifestation of the marriage ceremony your family has witnessed here today. Your blood will recognise each other as kin and pack until the seal is broken by death or other means. The magic binding you represents a new family being formed and will solidify your bond.”
A sizzle of electricity sparks to life between our joined palms, travelling into my bloodstream and disembarking in my heart. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the deeply buried emotions being stirred awake in my chest.
The binding ceremony itself existed prior to marriage in wolf shifter packs. It was a way to form a closer bond between shifters who weren’t true mates. Over the years, wolf shifters became more acclimated to human customs, and it became necessary for them to get married to access more mundane things, such as inheriting their partner’s pension after death. Nowadays, most wolf shifters who are true mates will exchange the mating bite and have a human marriage, whereas wolf shifters who aren’t mates will take part in the binding ceremony and a human marriage.
I look down at the palm of my hand, where the cut has already disappeared.
“It has been over a hundred years since a new pack has been bound to a territory in England. It’s a privilege to witness and participate in what will be a landmark moment in wolf shifter history today. When you’re ready, I’ll talk you through each step of the ritual,” Nina says.
I’m not convinced I’ll ever be ready, and I’m not entirely sure what’s about to take place. This suddenly feels too last minute for something so monumental.
“This time, Connor, you’ll make a slightly deeper cut across Phoenix’s left palm, and he will do the same to you. It’ll be easier if you both kneel as you do it so the blood can spill to the ground before the cuts heal.”
We both kneel on the cold, unforgiving ground, and she joins us. I don’t enjoy cutting Phoenix’s hand as much as I anticipated. Once again, we join our palms and keep them close to the ground. I watch as the crimson liquid mixes together and runs down our wrists in rivulets before the droplets escape and are soaked up by the earth below.
Nina doesn’t touch us this time, her hands hovering over the top of ours.
“As the joined familial blood of Connor and Phoenix is absorbed by the Yorkshire land, this territory has a pack once more. Please both place your palms on the ground.”
My eyes go wide as my bleeding hand adheres to the earth as though it has its own magnetic force pulling me down. I glance at Phoenix to see if he looks as stunned as I feel, but his expression is calmly focused on Nina.
“You are bound to this land, and the land is bound to you. May your pack and the Yorkshire territory go forth and bask in a symbiotic and enduring relationship.” When Nina finishes speaking, the sensation ebbs away, and I’m able to lift my hand back up. Across my left palm is a very faint silver scar. I’ve never had a scar before, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away, fascinated by it.
When I eventually look up, Phoenix’s brow is furrowed, looking at me in confusion. I stand up abruptly, dropping my hand and dusting off some dry mud from my knees.
“Congratulations,” Nina says conspiratorially before walking off and joining our guests, who have begun chatting amongst themselves.
After everyone has left, I slide down the wall of the small reception room where we had our 'celebratory' meal with our families. Sitting on the floor with my legs outstretched, the wall is cool against my back, and I thunk my head against it.
I’ve lost track of how many panic attacks I’ve had over the years as I would spiral, fretting over what would happen if the truth about Phoenix and me ever got out. He joins me on the floor, leaving enough of a gap between us so we’re not touching.
I hate that gap.
And yet, if he’d sat closer, I would have shuffled away and created the gap myself, so all rational thought has clearly left the building.
I’m sitting on the floor next to my husband. My husband, who coincidentally is my ex-boyfriend.
Over the years we were together, Phoenix would periodically get frustrated from all the hiding and declare we should run away together. I would always nip those ideas in the bud because I knew that if I chose him, I’d lose everyone else. After seeing the chasm my mum’s death created, I couldn’t put my family through another loss.
Of all the scenarios I obsessively played out in my mind, though, our families viewing our relationship as a potential way to bring peace between the two packs never even crossed my mind.
A hysterical cackle bubbles out of me, and suddenly, I can’t stop. My eyes water from laughing so hard as I lament over the cruel irony of it all.
“This was not on the list of reactions I anticipated today,” Phoenix says as I try to calm myself down. “What’s so funny?” he asks, nudging his foot against mine. It takes me a moment to gather myself enough to answer coherently.
“It’s just the absurdity of it all. I spent most of my adult life worried someone would discover us. And now, a year since we broke up, those same people we were hiding from have forced us to get hitched.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Phoenix says before a deep, throaty laugh escapes him. “Fuck it, may as well laugh about it.” He sets me off again, and we’re both sitting, shoulders shaking at the ludicrousness that is our life.
After we’ve both calmed down, I move to stand up, but Phoenix reaches out and grabs my forearm, twisting me to face him. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt earlier, and his fingers press into my bare skin. I’m so overly aware of the point of contact; it’s like a brand being burned into me.
“For the record, though, nobody forced me, this time, ” he says seriously.
“It’s not as if either of us had much choice in the matter either,” I reply.
Once I’m standing, I reach out on autopilot to help him up. He looks at my hand, momentarily assessing whether it’s some kind of trap—not that I can really blame him—but he takes it and stands. There’s a brief moment where neither of us drops the other’s hand, and I see his thoughts and emotions play out across his face. He gently lets go, and it seems to pain him to do so.
My hand feels cold and empty, which is familiar now; it’s been cold and empty for the past year.