Chapter 16 - Hunter
Staring at Delilah's face, I can see the sincerity in her eyes and the sadness that lurks in the golden depths, and it pains my heart to see her in this condition.
It's because of me, and I hate feeling like I've just destroyed something again. I keep doing it. Keep touching things and turning them to dust.
Like I did in the past….
Sighing when I realize Delilah won't let this go, I sink to the sidewalk, bending my knees and propping my elbows on my thighs. Wringing my hands together, I wait for Delilah to join me on the bricks before I begin.
She's right. I'm always running, and the worst thing I can do is run from the one person I care about the most. I did it before, and it almost broke me, and I can't let this second chance slip through my fingers. She deserves the truth.
“Remember that night during ops, when I went on that covert mission?” I ask Delilah, and see her slowly nodding as she stares at the tar on the road.
“That was the night you—you came back and—” Her voice is strained with memories of that night when I returned from the mission, and found her waiting for me in my motel room.
She'd been so sweet, so gentle, not probing about the mission that we had to go through without her. Instead, she'd thrown her arms around me and reminded me that we were leaving Alaska the next morning, and she didn't want to leave without us making our fated mate bond official.
Delilah said there was something in the cold air out there that made her realize what she wanted in life, while it was that very same cold air that hardened my heart and made it impossible to take that leap with her.
“It's the night I rejected you…” I whisper sullenly, and hear Delilah's gasp as she relives that night. “I told you that we should stop hooking up. That it was for the best.”
“You told me that we had fun…” she whispers sadly, and I nod, unable to meet her eyes.
“I was lying,” I admit. “I lied about all of it, because the truth is, I only rejected you to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“From me,” I sigh as I blurt out the truest words I've ever spoken.
“That mission we left you out of? It was a confidential mission sent to us by the head of the Werewolf Union, asking us to leave you out because you're part witch.
The mission was to take down a dark witch who'd become so evil that it turned into a disgusting, ghost-like being that could only be killed with a silver blade.”
“You thought I'd become like that, and you'd be forced to kill me?” Delilah murmurs, and I shake my head.
“No. It was nothing like that. I…” I pause to take a breath, reliving that night when our squad encountered the disfigured creature and I saw my life flashing before my eyes. A shiver courses down my spine, settling in the pit of my belly where it's being churned.
I can't stop now. Delilah deserves to know everything about that mission.
“The creature was supposedly a lone witch, much like Gwen, but it was a master of dark arts, wielding black magic that turned into that…whatever that was.” I shiver.
“When we encountered it, I was the one who held the dagger in human form. While the others had it locked down, I was about to spear the blade through its heart, when its black smoke touched my hand…” I absentmindedly stroke the knuckles of the hand that touched the smoke that night, like the memory is embedded in my skin.
“... and my past flashed before my eyes.”
“The past you've been hiding?”
I chuckle dryly. “Yeah. The past I've been trying to run from. What's worse is that I also saw my future with you in it.”
“So the mutated witch creature had a vision about you?”
“Something like that. But in it, I was holding your lifeless body in my arms, crying out to the Moon Goddess to bring you back to me. What stood out was the mark on your neck…” I turn my face to the side, eyes landing on the scent gland under her ear that would have that mark if I claimed her.
Delilah absentmindedly touches the spot, shuddering as if she can see what I saw.
“I knew if I claimed you, if I pursued my feelings for you, it would only end in your death.”
Delilah shakes her head slowly. “Witches might have visions of the future, but it's never set in stone, Hunter. It all depends on the choices the person makes that will dictate what the future might be.”
“You don't understand,” I sigh and turn my face away. “What I saw through that witch made me realize that everything I touch does turn to dust. It's happened before, when my father tried to overthrow the alpha of the pack we were in.”
“Bloodclaw?”
“No,” I shake my head slowly. “I wasn't always a part of Bloodclaw.
My father and I were in a pack called Moon Harvest out in Virginia when I was a young teen.
I was helping him build weapons to start a war with other packs, and I didn't even know it. Those weapons killed other wolves, and my father had ulterior motives, wanting to take over from the alpha when the other alphas killed him. I played a part in that massacre, in the war that killed so many, and when I found out, I ran away.”
“You were a child, Hunter,” Delilah offers, but I stare at my hands and shake my head.
“All that blood was on my hands. And I couldn't face myself, so I ran.
I lived as a lone wolf for years before Bloodclaw took me in, but I never felt like I truly belonged.
Bloodclaw saw my potential and sent me to black ops.
That's when I met the team. I met you, and I fell in love. But then I was reminded that I will only cause destruction, like I did in the past, if I fulfil my mate bond with you.”
A weight feels like it's been lifted off my shoulders now that I've come clean about my past, but regret remains as I stare at my hands and see the imaginary blood of the Virginian wolves who were killed in the war.
“I had to reject you,” I say as I curl my hands, shutting out the past that I can't escape from. Not now, when Delilah knows the truth. “I had to protect you from turning to dust because of me. I couldn't let my love for you destroy you.”
A long moment of silence stretches out until finally, Delilah stands up and hugs her arms across her chest. She looks down at me, nodding slowly as her eyes display the plethora of emotions and thoughts running through her mind.
“You should have told me this before. You should have been honest with me,” Delilah says softly as she hangs her head.
“I never cared about who you were or what you did in the past; I just wanted you to be open with me. Instead, you hurt me as if it meant nothing to you. As if you never cared about me at all.”
I hang my head shamefully, just as Delilah turns and slowly walks down the road in the direction of the residential area. I know she's going home, and after what I just revealed, I'm sure she needs some space.
Using the time alone out on the sidewalk to lament the past that's been holding me back from pursuing my feelings for the only woman I've ever loved and cared about, I lift my head to watch her walking away.
She's about to turn the corner, and that's when it hits me that I've been wrong this whole time.
And now, I'm about to lose Delilah a second time. Not through death like I saw through the witch creature's vision, but through my own self-loathing.
So what if I helped my father build those weapons?
Just like Delilah said, I was a child, and I didn't know better. I didn't even know what I was doing until it was too late, and the war broke out, and those weapons were used for mass destruction.
It wasn't my fault. My father used me, and I've been hanging onto the guilt of the massacre as if I were the one who pulled the triggers.
Gathering myself up, I decide to let the guilt slip away so I can do what's right by the woman I love and care about. She deserves for me to step up and be the man she needs, not some prick who's too afraid to be the man in her life.
She's right. Futures can change, and visions aren't set in stone. Delilah would know better than anyone, since she's a witch herself.
I pull myself together and jog down the street toward her house, taking the corner and finding her on the porch, just about to enter.
“Delilah! Wait!” I call out to her, running the final stretch to the house. She turns around slowly, her eyes glossed over with the tears she's been holding back.
“W-What?” Her voice trembles, and I stop just in front of the first step.
“I'm sorry, Delilah,” I say sincerely with a heavy-hearted sigh. “I'm sorry that I kept the truth from you, and I'm sorry that I broke your heart when I rejected our mate bond. I was stupid.” I hang my head. “I was stupid to push you away, and I'm sorry about everything I've done.”
“Why did you marry me?” she asks, and it prompts me to raise my head and frown.
“Because the truth is, I do care about you, D. I care about you, and I didn't want you marrying some arrogant prick who doesn't deserve you.”
Delilah sighs, crossing her arms. “You care about me, and you think you can be the man I deserve?”
“I…I'm far from being anything you deserve, Delilah. But I'd like to try. You know everything now,” I say as I lift my arms in a show of surrender. I'm done running, and I'm ready to step up because, truthfully, I don't think I can bear losing Delilah again.
It's happened once, and if it happens again, I'll lose my mind. Tonight proved that the mere thought of losing her will drive me insane, the way I did when I heard she was at dinner with the prince.
“There's nothing left to hide, but everything to prove. If you'll give me the chance, I'd like to make up for the past. If you'll forgive me, that is.”
Delilah takes a deep, thoughtful breath, unfolding her arms.
“I forgive you, Hunter. I…” her voice tapers off with a sigh. “I will give you another chance, but you're not running away this time. If you can't do this, then you gotta tell me now, be straightforward with me, and cut the bullshit.”
My heart swells with hope as I nod, a sincere smile curling my lips.
“No more bullshit, no more running,” I promise, pinching the skin on my throat between my thumb and forefinger.
“From this moment on, I will not hide anything from you.
You're one of the closest people I have in my life, I care about you, and I don't want to ruin that,” I add, wanting her to know that I don't want her just to fulfill my baser desires.
She means more than that to me, and I can't risk losing her.
Delilah nods, a flicker of sadness flashing in her eyes as her lips lift in a wistful smile.
“Well, we can't get divorced yet, ‘cause it's gonna be too obvious why we did it, then, and I can't afford to make my parents suspicious of me,” she sighs, blinking as if there's something she isn't telling me, like that's not the only reason she doesn't want the divorce.
“So, friends, then?” She sticks out her hand, and I hesitate to take it, and shake on the agreement to be friends.
But it is a good start, and I'm willing to take things slowly, hoping to win her over now that I've told her the truth. If this is what it takes to win her heart back, then I'll gladly do it to make up for hurting her before.
I finally take her hand and shake on this truce we've formed, the electric awareness still pulsing between us. Even if we're just friends for now, there's no denying that we're so much more than that, and it's evident in the way Delilah's eyes glow.
I'm going to take my sweet time with her and sweep her off her feet.