Chapter 21 - Dan
The next morning, I awake in full darkness. When I look out the window, I see only the faintest line of light on the horizon, and the awkward evening from the night before rushes back to me.
Fuck. I went straight to sleep and didn’t even check in with Rex. He’s going to fry my ass.
Even though the hour is truly ungodly, I text Rex immediately, apologizing for flaking out and letting him know I’m ready to talk about everything as soon as he wakes up. There are only a couple of missed calls and messages. It’s obvious the boys all knew I’d be hard to reach last night.
Some of the messages even seem teasing, as if they think I might have made up with Grace in an explosive way. I read the texts with mixed emotions, deciding I can’t even acknowledge the jokes, let alone reply.
Yeah, thanks, Brad. It did “blow my head off,” but not in the way you mean.
Sighing, I get up and go to the kitchen. Grace left the dishes in the sink just as I recommended, so I get to work cleaning up, being careful to do a good job.
I have no idea what’s going to happen today. The guys told me to talk to her. I was ready to do that, but she shut down on me. I can’t take another fight, and I can’t shake the feeling that she just doesn’t want to be here.
As I stack the dishes, I try to examine this thought a bit more closely.
Why is she here?
From what I’ve heard, she doesn’t have any reason to be loyal to the packs and isn’t even a wolf, so she can’t possibly have the pack bonding the rest of us do. There is a sense of duty in her that seems to go beyond caring for these people and obeying the orders of the other alphas.
My thoughts tangle this up with her long walks, both the recent ones and the hikes she took this way as a young girl. I don’t know why this would be connected, but my mind keeps coming back to it as I think about what motivated Grace to marry me.
And our old friend the snake. So much of this has to do with him.
My stomach growls fiercely, and I get out a frying pan and some bacon. I’m starving after yesterday, and I know that I’ll need a massive feed of protein to recharge for today.
Back out into pack building today. We almost have all our shops open, and the school. Life feels almost normal.
As I put the coffee on, I chuckle at that thought. To me, normal is waking up at five a.m. for drills and going out to a combat course for six hours. The idea of mingling with people as they open shops and assisting kids at school doesn’t feel normal in the slightest.
And doing all this “normal” with a big, bad, ancient spirit breathing down our necks. Really, the situation couldn’t get more fucked up.
Just like that, my mind bends, sending me down a horrific rabbit hole of memory.
I have to lean on the counter, blinking hard as I try to clear my mind.
The screams of my family and the roar of destruction ring through my soul, as well as the terrible helplessness I felt, the absolute horror that my entire world was being destroyed, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.
With practiced effort, I shove the thoughts back down into a deep memory hole, where I wish they’d stay. Turning on the burner, I toss some bacon into the pan. The sizzling sound and rich scent bring me back to reality.
Even though I try to keep my mind blank as I put on toast and find some eggs, my thoughts shove to the surface again. I manage to hold back the worst of my memories, but the one thing I can’t hide from is that it’s Grace’s magic that scares me, not the intimacy.
Being close to her is fucking terrifying. No question about that. But the magic… not just in her, but in me, literally running through my bones… it feels the same as—
The smell of smoke suddenly cuts through my thoughts, and I curse loudly as I grab a towel and swat at the flames in the frying pan. I’m still pounding desperately at the fire when Grace shoves me out of the way and waves her hands at the scorched mess.
The flames go out, and the smoke clears, truly like magic. I turn to look at Grace, and she glares at me, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I really wasn’t paying attention.”
“Not a surprise,” she growls. “Just get out of my way.”
I take a couple of quick steps back, and the glow of magic around her feels confronting after the thoughts I’ve been wrestling with all morning. She only used a light touch of magic to put out the fire, and I don’t think she was even consciously aware of it, but it still freaked me out.
“We’ll have to throw away this frying pan,” she says. “It’s been set on fire too many times. The bottom is practically burned out.”
“Okay. I can get another one.”
“Our cupboards are well-stocked, so don’t worry. You might want to consider a loyalty program for kitchenware, though.”
Was that a joke?
In case it wasn’t, I don’t laugh, and all I can do is continue to stand there awkwardly.
“We definitely shouldn’t let you play with fire anymore,” she says, oiling a new pan and getting a fresh package of bacon.
Her words make me look down at my hands, remembering the horrific sight of seeing my bare bones poking out through blackened, bubbling skin. Fear steals the breath from my lungs, and I blink hard, trying to get the floating dots in my vision to clear.
Am I more afraid of the magic that hurt me, or the power that healed me?
I look up and stare at Grace’s back, watching her move back and forth as she cracks eggs into the pan and puts bread into the toaster. The magic glow has truly worn off, and she looks ordinary, just a normal woman cooking breakfast—and multitasking like it’s a superpower.
“I’ll put the other dishes away,” I say.
She makes a small sound of agreement, but doesn’t turn around.
It only takes me a few minutes to clear up the kitchen, and by that time, breakfast is ready. Grace doesn’t look up as she puts the plates down, and I notice she’s digging into the food with a lot more enthusiasm than usual.
More than once, I try to think of a way to start a conversation, but I keep running up against a hard wall of confusion. Not only do I not know what to talk about, I’m not even sure I want to talk to her anymore.
The guys said to dive in and risk everything in case this was the real deal. But it can’t be. Surely, I wouldn’t be this terrified if she were my true mate? I can’t get used to the magic, not with these terrible memories inside me.
Grace clears her plate a lot faster than usual and goes back for seconds. I let her fill up my plate, too, and even though neither of us speaks, the silence doesn’t bother me as much anymore.
It’s not just being with her and dealing with her magic. It was the feel of it flowing through my veins. I felt violated, like I’d made a deal with the devil on my deathbed. My body was healed, but what was the cost to my soul?
“Okay,” Grace says, finishing her food. “It’s almost nine. We should head out.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Just leave the dishes. I’ll do them when we get home.”
“No problem. That seems like a safe job for you.”
“Yeah,” I answer, not sure if I should acknowledge that as humor or frustration.
A few minutes later, we leave the house, and Grace keeps pace with me and holds my hand. A lot of pack members are waiting under the covered seating area, and they wave and smile as we approach.
She’s putting a lot more effort into the act, but the only thing I read from that is her desire to help these people. It’s got nothing to do with me.
As she greets the women and moves away, I let my gaze linger on her a little. I’m not the smartest guy in the world, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have magic powers, but my instincts have always been sharp.
There is something hidden in her. The longer we stay together, the stronger this feeling gets. She has a secret, I’m sure of it.
I shake off the thought, resolving to think about it later. The new council members and I take the kids out for a run, the less experienced ones still working on coordination, and the more advanced ones scouting around the area in their wolf shape.
After a full day with the kids and helping the other men repair buildings, I go back to the meeting area to find Grace there with the women. They’ve put on a beautiful spread, and we all sit down to eat together, the sense of community soothing me and giving me hope.
Even if it doesn’t work out with Grace, I have the pack. They’re mine now, and I belong to them. I’ll never be alone again, and I can protect them. This time, I won’t fail, I won’t let anyone down.
Grace sits next to me throughout the meal, laughing and joking with everyone, occasionally touching my arm or leaning up against me. It feels genuine, but I can sense her holding back. Again, I get the feeling of something hidden, and my instincts start going crazy.
I only feel this way when something nasty is about to go down. Is Grace dangerous? Would she turn on us?
The thought is so horrific, I shove it out of my head, trying to bury it deep in my psyche.
I can’t overlook this. I also can’t tell the others. All I can do is watch her.
Misery grows in me as I realize this will make our relationship truly adversarial instead of just awkward.
Okay. Don’t jump to conclusions. It could all be paranoia at this point.
Night deepens around us, and families begin to break away from the table to take their kids home. As the table empties, I sense Grace’s unease growing as the moment we have to be alone together draws closer.
Eventually, she stands up from the table, helps some of the others clear up, then heads towards home without waiting for me. I realize that the community gathering was her idea—a way to avoid being alone with me.
Since we’ve already had dinner, we don’t need to cross paths once we get home. I hear her settling down in the bedroom, and I wait until I hear her door close before I shower and set myself up on the couch.
In the morning, my nerves return, but Grace cooks, I clear up, and barely any words are said. We do our duty with the pack, and it gives me great pleasure to see everyone beginning to thrive. The evening dinner becomes a ritual, and the council members we chose quickly become my best friends.
Evenings at home, Grace and I don’t speak at all. After a couple of days of this routine, I start to expect it, and I’m comforted by the repeated actions.
A lot like being in the army. Get up, do your job, sleep. Too easy.
Grace doesn’t seem happy, but she doesn’t seem angry, either, and I’m grateful for it. As a full week slips by, I know that I can handle life like this. Indefinitely, if I have to.
We can do our duty to the pack and to each other, with no one getting hurt. It’s better this way.
The only variable that could destroy our uneasy peace is the snake, and reports are all clear. Sentries and patrols have found nothing; Sloan has found no heat signatures. The rock has stayed cold, and nothing has lit up.
Days stretch into weeks, and the snake stays so quiet, we begin to wonder if it’s ever coming back.