10. Ten
Ten
March 2022 - Present Day
Connor Kelly
I take a deep breath, and I’m overwhelmed by his painfully familiar scent—lavender and damp earth. Fee’s breathing is slow and steady, so I’m pretty sure he’s still asleep. I try to keep my own breathing even so I don’t wake him up and cut this moment short. My subconscious seeks him out when we’re sleeping, and I always wake up curled up into his side, his arm wrapped around me, keeping me as close as possible.
It makes me ache.
Falling for Fee was probably the easiest thing I ever did; I don’t even remember the day it happened, but suddenly, he was buried deep under my skin.
Fee said he needed some space after yesterday’s heavy chat about Will and me, so he went to bed early. Ergo, I spent the rest of the evening ruminating obsessively over whether I did the right thing in telling him. I told myself I was honest with him because I don’t like keeping secrets, but a part of me wonders if I told him because I wanted him to hurt a little bit, too.
Truthfully, I do regret sleeping with Will, not because of Fee, but because I hurt my friend. Will still had feelings for me, and I knew that. He was the last person I had any business rebounding with.
I had no idea heartbreak could hurt that much. Those first few weeks after we broke up, I couldn’t even sleep alone. Niamh stayed with me every night and held me while I cried myself to sleep. It’s a bit humiliating to recall if I’m honest. After a few months, when the ache of it all hadn’t really subsided, I realised it was probably a pain I needed to learn to live with.
So, I went through the motions.
I got up out of bed every day, ate three meals, went to work while avoiding talking to my cousin, Mikey, all day. And I plastered a smile onto my face when I caught anyone looking my way for too long.
It’s been over a year since I told Fee I hated him. I wish I did hate him; this might hurt less if it were true. This marriage is splitting me in half.
I still love him.
I’m not so delusional that I can’t admit that to myself, even if I refuse to say it out loud. But I can’t trust him; I’ve never been good at trusting people, but I trusted Fee with every fibre of my being, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive him for betraying me.
How do we build a pack on these lands when I’m always looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to pick the Campbell pack over this one, over me? I guess that’s the crux of it; when he was backed into a corner and had to choose between me and his pack, he chose them.
I suspect Fee views this marriage as a second chance for us, but I resent it.
It took almost the entire time we were apart for me to barely begin learning how to live a full life with part of my heart missing. To learn to live, not just survive, with my soul always yearning and pining for my mate who was only a hundred miles away.
I went on a few dates, nobody blew me away. I didn’t even sleep with any of them, but I was making small steps to moving on. I could see there was light at the end of the tunnel, even if it felt a long way off still. To be thrown into a marriage, forced to spend every day with the person I’ve spent countless hours trying to get over, feels cruel.
Fee starts to stir, so I begin to untangle myself before those big brown eyes of his start knocking down any more of my defences.
I head to the bathroom and take a piss and a shower. As I stand under the spray of water, it takes me back to all those times under the waterfall with Fee. Fuck, I’m way too sentimental today. Shaking my head, I try to clear my mind of past memories and turn off the water. I must have been taking my time in here because there’s a soft knock on the bathroom door.
“You almost done? I’m going to piss myself in about thirty seconds,” he says through the door.
“One sec,” I call back. I grab my towel and wrap it around my waist before opening the door. “All yours.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, rushing into the bathroom behind me.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Niamh is sitting at the small round dining table in the corner with her laptop open and a ring binder.
“Mornin’, sunshine, sleep okay?” she asks, sounding far too upbeat for this early in the day.
“Uhuh,” I grunt.
“Coffee is fresh,” she says, pointing to the side in the kitchen. I fill two mugs and pass one to Phoenix when he appears in the doorway.
“Oh, thank you,” he says, giving me a timid smile. Thankfully, Will isn’t back from his night shift. They’ve yet to cross paths, but I suspect when it happens, it will be awkward as fuck.
“No problem.”
“Look how cute and domestic you two are,” Niamh says, looking gleeful.
“Fuck off,” I reply succinctly, and she just snorts.
“What are you working on?” Phoenix asks, nodding at the laptop in front of her.
“Sorting out the final seating plan for the wedding reception.”
“Sorry, we’ve contributed literally nothing to these wedding plans,” he says sheepishly.
“Planning this wedding is basically my redemption for, you know, ruining the last one.” Phoenix chokes on his coffee.
“Wow, you’re really blunt.” He laughs awkwardly, and she cackles like a cartoon witch.
“You two ready for the big day on Saturday?” she asks once she’s composed herself.
“Feels a bit redundant, given we’re already married,” I reply.
“I guess it’s probably not so much about us. It’ll be the first time a large number of both packs are in the same place and not at each other’s throats,” Phoenix says, ever the diplomat.
“That we hope,” I add darkly.
We’re at the venue for a rehearsal ahead of the wedding in two days. It’s part of a converted castle; the inside shows the exposed stone walls and beautiful wooden beams adorn the ceiling. It’s not the kind of venue my family could usually afford; however, Phoenix’s parents agreed to foot the bill, and I can’t deny the place is stunning.
I’m not entirely sure why I’m required to practise walking in a straight line and standing in one spot, but when I raised this point with Niamh, she smacked me upside the head.
“So, we need to decide who’s walking who and in what order,” Niamh announces.
“What do most people do?” I ask.
“I don’t know what it’s like in the Campbell pack, but in ours, each groom is usually walked down the aisle by their parents or, in your case—parent,” she replies.
“I thought maybe Connor and I could walk down the aisle together,” Phoenix suggests.
“Is that how your pack usually does it?” she asks him curiously. I hold my breath to fight the sting in my eyes.
“No, not traditionally. Just an idea. This way, neither of the Alphas can argue over who goes first, etcetera,” he says. That’s not the reason he suggested it, though it does make sense. He’s looking at me to confirm, but my voice will betray me, so I nod in agreement.
One summer a couple of years ago, we were at the top of Whernside, lying under the moon and stars. I asked Fee if he thought we’d ever be mated, and he told me he’d mate me and marry me in a heartbeat if I gave him the word. I couldn’t hide the smile on my face at the surety in his words. I never had to guess how Fee felt about things; you could just ask, and he’d spill everything as though it never even occurred to him to protect his heart or feelings from me.
“What do you think our weddin’ will be like?” I asked him.
“I think it will be small and intimate, and we’ll walk down the aisle together, starting our marriage as equals. Fuck tradition!”
“Wow, not that you’ve thought about it much or anythin’.”
“Not at all.” He smirked at me.
“I like that idea, not so much all the attention, but I don’t think it’d be so bad with you by my side.”
“Always,” he said, squeezing my hand in his.
The memory crushes my heart in a vice. He must read it on my face because he subtly shuffles closer and hooks his pinky through mine, giving it a small tug in solidarity. Before he can let go, and trying not to overthink it, I put my hand in his and interlace our fingers. He looks down at our joined hands with a sad smile on his face. It's like I can see the same memory running through his mind. Niamh looks over and notices, too, but I raise an eyebrow at her, daring her to bring it up. She smiles knowingly but continues.
“Great, I love that idea, and logistically, it’s easier. So, all the family members will already be sitting in the first few rows. Calvin will stand at the front, and then when the music starts, the two of you will walk in together.
“Phoenix, you’ll be on the left. Con, you’ll be on the right, all sound good?” she asks. We both grunt yes in agreement. “Perfect, at the end of the ceremony, you’ll walk back down the aisle together, and then both of you, plus immediate family, will head off for photographs, and the guests will make their way over to the reception, capiche?” I can’t help but think that I don’t particularly want photographic evidence of the day, but I’m pretty sure I’m just along for the ride at this point.
“Sure,” I agree, sounding defeated, and Fee nods.
“Okay, you’re both dismissed for the time being. Keep your phone close in case I think of anything else, though. Please, thank you and goodbye,” Niamh says, not waiting for us to reply before she’s skipped off to deal with the next item on her agenda.
I let out a deep sigh and drop Phoenix’s hand as we head out of the front door and into the unusually sunny March day. My hand feels cold and empty; I’m itching to reach out again, but today, holding hands feels like the gateway drug of affection.
Phoenix Campbell
My stomach flutters with nerves as we pull up to Cee's dad’s house. It’s a large red brick terraced property somewhere south of Manchester. Niamh explained how the entire row of houses is owned by pack members. It's a culdesac with direct access to some woodland at the end, pretty ideal way of keeping shifters out of sight of humans so close to a big city.
Will is driving, and he seems almost as nervous as I am. As far as I’m aware, Cee hasn’t told Will I know what happened between them. To be honest, I’ve been trying to forget it myself. It’s torture watching every single interaction they have, looking to see if there’s anything more there than friendship. The wedding is tomorrow, and then we’ll be alone in Yorkshire, and as apprehensive as I am about that, I think I'll need it for the sake of my sanity. Will parks the car on the street outside, and we all spill out of his burnt-orange SEAT.
Niamh opens the front door without knocking, and there’s a lot of noise coming from deep within the house. Cee takes my coat to hang it up, then leads the way through the hall and down some stairs, where we enter a large kitchen dining room bustling with people. Cee's brother Sam is standing over a sizeable range cooker, stirring a giant pot of something that smells amazing. Alpha Kelly is sitting at the dining table playing some kind of card game with a few people who look close to his age. He looks up and grins at us as we walk into the room.
“Right on time to watch me steal both your dads’ money,” he shouts over to presumably Will. He smiles in response, but it looks a touch forced. Niamh explained yesterday how Alpha Kelly really lost his shit with them for getting married last year, and although she claims her dad is both quick to anger and quick to move on from it, Will is still wary of him.
“Clear the table, tea’s ready,” Sam announces, and everyone busies themselves. He places the large pot—which I can now see is a chilli—and a massive tray of baked potatoes onto the table. Niamh starts handing out plates and cutlery, and everyone dives in. I’m kind of taken aback; this is so far out of the realm of my family dinners that I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself.
“Here, gotta be quick, or these greedy fuckers’ll eat it all,” Cee says, smiling and placing a potato onto my plate. The volume dials down while everyone is busy devouring the delicious food, and there’s a laid-back atmosphere in the room I didn’t expect.
“Nervous for the big day tomorrow, lads?” Alpha Kelly asks as Will and Niamh start clearing away the empty dishes.
“A little,” I reply. “But it feels sort of odd since we’re already married.”
“Mm. You've settled into it faster than I thought. Wouldn’t have guessed you were practically strangers a week ago,” he says, his eyes sparkling knowingly. Too knowingly.
“Well, when you spend twenty-four hours a day with someone for a week, you get to know each other pretty quick,” Cee interrupts, and Niamh abruptly changes the subject. My neck sweats a little when I feel Alpha Kelly’s eyes still on me.
Fortunately, he's easily distracted by Sam and Niamh arguing over last weekend's footy results, and the rest of the evening is relatively uneventful.
Later that night, we’re both lying next to each other in bed, not touching, just side by side, and the silence is so suffocating that it permeates the room. I think the weight of the spectacle that tomorrow will be, lies heavily on both of us. Cee's breathing is even, but I think he’s as wide awake as I am. It must be the early hours of the morning.
“I know this isn’t how either of us imagined our wedding to be,” I whisper, breaking the silence. “I know you still hate me,” I add, even quieter, “But there’s still nobody else I would ever want to do life with.” Connor’s breath hitches and I turn onto my side to face him. Seeing the silent tears run down his smooth, pale cheeks, I can’t help but tentatively reach out with my thumb to wipe them away. He looks into my eyes, and a sob escapes him.
“Can I hold you?” I ask gently. I see the moment all the fight drains out of him, and he nods his head ever so faintly. I pull him into me, and he buries his face into my neck, taking a deep breath. I wrap my arms tightly around him and put my thigh over his hip so there’s no space at all between us.
My heart breaks even more as he cries in my arms, but I think he needs to let it all out. If I can hold him as he falls apart for a short while, offer him some comfort in all this, it’s the least I can do for him. I rub my hand up and down his back until, eventually, he relaxes, and his breathing starts to even out.
“This wouldn’t hurt so much if I actually hated you,” he says, his voice muffled against my neck. He pulls his face away slightly, and his eyes are red and puffy, but he’s as beautiful as ever. I don’t expect it when he softly presses his lips to mine; it’s gentle, and there’s no heat behind it, but it’s painfully familiar.
I promise myself if I really do get a second chance with him, I’ll do better. I’ll never be the reason he’s sobbing in my arms again. Planting a chaste kiss against his forehead, I squeeze him tightly. Nothing more is said, but somehow, the air has been cleared a little. Tomorrow won’t be easy, but maybe it won’t be a total disaster either.