Chapter 21 #2
I remain in the doorway, silently recounting the discussion.
Vessa jerks her face away just as the syringe slips into the vein of her forearm.
Squinting, I listen to her heart’s protest—the muscle is pounding like a wire has been tripped.
Like she’s fighting against every instinct to run.
Paul has something against her. That much is clear. But what is she so afraid of?
Vessa
I sit out on my balcony with a glass of wine, the starry canvas of the night sky illuminated by the magical aurora.
Strokes of fuchsia and teal bleed into one another, swirling hypnotically.
While this opulent suite may be designed to soothe every discomfort, tonight I can’t breathe in it.
I haven’t been able to rid myself of this pent-up adrenaline since I walked out of the meeting at Sonic Jungle feeling less than convinced with any of our theories. And that was two whole days ago.
I shouldn’t have let Dr. Caulder jab me in the arm, but refusing would’ve raised suspicion.
How can I guard this secret knowing that Axe’s inner circle is closer to unearthing the truth with each day that passes?
What if Maurleen and Wyatt don’t make it in time for the next full moon? What plan do I have then?
I step out into the night, softly illuminated by the iron and glass light fixtures that embellish Lupine Manor.
Fighting back a yawn, I flip on the flashlight of my new cellphone.
Near the fenced-in sparring field, a pair of red elk are startled by the crack in the darkness, their hooves pounding as they flee.
By now, the watchmen have changed shifts with fresh sets of eyes monitoring the territory.
Even so, if they sense me roaming out here at this ungodly hour, they may attempt to corral me back into the house.
My jaw stretches wide with another yawn, but I press forward, crossing the threshold of the forest clearing.
In just six minutes, I’ve lost track of my surroundings.
Surrounded by trees, I suck in a sharp breath.
I flip the phone around and unlock it, navigating to the dial pad.
There are only three numbers I ever bothered to memorize.
One belongs to a person who is dead, the second to a witch, and the third . . .
Tears form at the thought of hearing my father’s voice.
I remember the last time I called him. Vividly.
It was the first anniversary of my mother’s death.
Overcome with grief, I snatched Maurleen’s phone from her purse and punched those ten digits, not anticipating that he would actually pick up.
But he did. All I could do was breathe heavily into the speaker, trying to keep myself from cracking.
“Vessa,” he rasped. “Is that you?”
I dropped the phone and hung up, cursing myself for disturbing his peace. To this day, I wonder if he still thinks about that call. I wonder if he and my brother have given up on me. If they have moved on.
I’ll never forget the two of us giggling in our backyard tent the summer we were twelve and nine.
Benjamin’s eyes were glued to the night sky through his telescope, zooming in and giddily describing which celestial bodies twinkled across the horizon.
Just to think, he would love the view from these mountains.
I’ll never forget those first few months living with Maurleen and Wyatt. The night I truly hit rock bottom.
We moved to three different places before the summer’s end.
By the time I turned nineteen, my mind had become a dark, desolate wasteland.
It was the first birthday I spent away from my family, and I had never felt angrier, never more alone.
I had this hideous brick-red hair that I scrubbed at for what felt like hours, trying to wash it all out.
I hated the color and hated the pathetic character I felt like I was becoming even more.
But I liked the way the piping hot water felt against my skin.
Liked the way it hurt. Liked that for the first time in months, I had an ounce of control over my life.
All that steam overwhelmed me. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t let go. And so, when I decided I’d had enough, that I’d rather die than live another day with that all-consuming hopelessness, I grabbed Wyatt’s razor and—
I turn the flashlight off and rest against the nearest evergreen.
Here, in the middle of the wilderness, where I am no one, the sky is blanketed with stars.
Tears slide down my face as I take them in, heart wrenching at the thought of how much my little brother would love this glittering view.
I think about the girl in the white sundress, eager for her new life to begin.
If only there was some way I could have prepared her for the grief.
The cruel pull of the rug from underneath her.
I wish . . . Gods, I wish I could’ve had a chance to say goodbye.
It’s then that the sky sheds a sparkling tear, just beneath the curve of the crescent moon. A shooting star. In a blink, it’s gone.
My wish was pointless anyway.
A sharp snap pierces the silence. I nearly soil myself as I push off the tree, only to realize I’ve been followed. Two lightning-charged eyes of cobalt appear. The rest of him blends in seamlessly with the dark void of night. Axe.
Thankfully, my lungs remember how to release all the air I’ve been holding in. The last time I saw the Alpha in his canine form, he tore into the limber vampire who sought to use me against him. Under the faint light of my phone, he pads to my side.
A sigh escapes me. “I take it you couldn’t sleep either?”
The wolf nuzzles against my coat, his cold, wet nose brushing against my trembling fingers.
Glowing eyes assess my own. The brightness dulls for a moment, like he recognizes this pain better than anyone.
As I look deep into those orbs, searching for some kind of affirmation, he folds his massive body around me.
My gaze drifts back up to the silvery moon.
“Do you ever think,” I mutter, “that maybe it’s possible some of us are born with a broken heart?
I’ve always wondered if there was something wrong with mine to begin with—that maybe it was made of glass.
Because for the life of me, when I think back on my life before this, all that comes to me is this feeling of shards piercing my insides.
Maurleen always said to give it time, but I have.
I swear, this part of me outright refuses to heal. ”
The wolf stares blankly.
“Wow. That sounded pathetic.”
The beast wiggles his head so that it slips right under my arm. I embrace him fully, burying my face in damp fur. In and out, my heartbeat pounds steadier, finally relaxing. Axe remains silent and vigilant. After a few minutes savoring the quiet, a misty rain engulfs the dark forest.
I whisper into his muzzle, “Can we stay here? I don’t mind the rain.”
His back legs curl tighter around me in approval. I raise my hood over my hair, settling in. Letting him shelter me. Softly, he rumbles, as if to say, You are not alone in your grief. And you never will be again.
Finally, in my cradle of gentle darkness, a dreamless sleep claims me.