Chapter 17 - Fern
Connor’s fork scrapes against his plate, and the sound makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
We’ve been sitting at my kitchen table for ten minutes now, and neither of us has managed to say a single word.
The eggs I scrambled are getting cold. The toast sits untouched between us.
I take a sip of coffee just to have something to do with my hands and try not to notice the way he keeps glancing at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
“These are good,” he finally comments, gesturing at the eggs with his fork. “The eggs. They’re good.”
“Thanks.”
Silence again. He takes a bite. I take a bite. We both chew and swallow, and stare at our plates as if they hold the secrets of the universe.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
More silence. I want to scream. This is ridiculous. We’re adults. We should be able to have a conversation over breakfast without it feeling like we’re both waiting for a bomb to go off.
“Look,” I start, just as he says, “So I was thinking—”
We both stop. He gestures for me to go first. I shake my head and gesture back. He opens his mouth to speak, and that’s when my phone vibrates against the table.
I snatch it so fast I almost knock my mug over, grateful for the interruption.
“Hello?”
“Fern, it’s Skylar.” Her voice sounds strained on the other end. “I need you to come in right away. One of your patients is here, and she’s not doing well.”
“Which patient?”
“Ivy. The young one. She’s really worked up about something, and she’s asking for you. Well, demanding is more accurate.”
My stomach drops. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I end the call and push back from the table. Connor looks up with a question in his eyes, and I’m already reaching for my jacket on the hook by the door.
“I have to go. Emergency at the clinic.”
He’s on his feet before I finish the sentence. “I’ll walk you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Fern—”
“I said it’s not necessary.” I shrug on my jacket and grab my keys from the counter. “Finish your breakfast. Use the button on the knob to lock up when you leave.”
I’m out the door before he can argue, and I spend the entire walk to the medical center trying to prepare myself for whatever I’m about to face. Ivy was struggling during our last session, but I thought we were making progress. I thought she was starting to trust me.
I hear her before I see her. Her voice echoes down the hallway as I push through the clinic’s front doors, high and sharp with anger.
“I want to talk to her right now. Where is she?”
Skylar stands behind the reception desk with her hands raised in a calming gesture. “She’s on her way, Ivy. Just take a breath and—”
“Don’t tell me to take a breath.” Ivy spins toward me as I round the corner, and the fury in her face makes me stop in my tracks. “You. How could you do this to me?”
“Ivy, let’s go to my office and talk about this privately.”
“I don’t want to go to your office.” She stalks toward me, and I hold my ground even though every instinct tells me to back away. “I want you to explain why you reported me to Nic. I thought our sessions were supposed to be confidential.”
“I didn’t report you to anyone.”
“Bullshit. He called me in for a meeting yesterday and asked me all kinds of questions about how I was adjusting to pack life. About whether I had any concerns or complaints.” Her eyes glitter with unshed tears. “The only person I’ve talked to about any of that is you.”
“Ivy, I promise you, I never spoke to anyone about what we discussed. I did consider it, but in the end, I chose not to.”
“You’re a liar.” She spits the word at me like poison. “I trusted you. I told you things I’ve never told anyone, and you went straight to the Alpha with all of it.”
“That’s not what happened.” I keep my voice calm even though my heart is pounding against my ribs.
“But even if I had spoken to someone about your case, it would only be because I was concerned about your well-being. My duty of care requires me to escalate situations where I believe someone might be at risk of—”
“Your duty of care?” she scoffs. “That’s such bullshit. You don’t care about me. None of you do. I’m just the orphan girl whose parents were monsters, and everyone in this town looks at me like I’m going to turn into one of them any second.”
“That’s not true, Ivy.”
“Yes, it is. And you’re just like the rest of them.” She backs toward the door and shakes her head. “I should have known better than to trust an outsider. At least when the pack treats me like garbage, they’re honest about it.”
“Ivy, please. Let me help you.”
“You’ve helped enough.”
She shoves through the door and disappears into the morning, leaving me standing in the lobby with Skylar watching from behind her desk and a handful of other staff members pretending they didn’t just witness the whole thing.
“Well,” Skylar says after a long moment, “that could have gone better.”
I don’t have the energy to respond.
The rest of the day crawls by in a haze. I see three other patients, but I can’t focus on any of them. My mind keeps circling back to Ivy, to the betrayal in her eyes, to the way she accused me of being just like everyone else who’s let her down.
By the time I lock up my office and head for home, the sun has already dipped below the tree line and shadows stretch long across the sidewalk. I pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders as the evening chill seeps through the fabric and quicken my pace.
Something feels wrong.
I can’t explain it. There’s no sound, no movement, nothing concrete I can point to. Just a prickling at the back of my neck that won’t go away. The sensation of eyes on me, tracking my every step.
I pull out my phone and call Skylar.
“Hey, you okay?” she answers on the second ring. “You seemed pretty shaken up after that thing with Ivy this morning.”
“I’m fine. Listen, do you want to grab a drink? I could use some company tonight.”
“Absolutely. Meet you at the Rusty Nail in twenty?”
“Perfect.”
The bar is crowded when I arrive, packed with locals unwinding after a long day. Skylar waves at me from a booth near the back, and I slide in across from her with a sigh of relief. She’s already ordered me a glass of wine, and I take a long sip before settling back against the worn leather seat.
“You look like you’ve had a day,” she observes.
“That’s one way to put it.”
We talk about nothing important for a while.
Work gossip, town drama, the latest rumors about who’s dating whom.
Skylar has a gift for making me laugh even when I don’t feel like it, and slowly, the knot in my chest begins to loosen.
I’m halfway through my second glass of wine and actually starting to relax when I glance toward the window, and everything goes cold.
He’s standing on the sidewalk outside. Half-hidden in the shadow of the building across the street, but I’d recognize that silhouette anywhere. The broad shoulders. The way he holds himself is coiled and ready to strike.
Robbie.
“Fern?” Skylar’s voice sounds far away. “Fern, what’s wrong? You just went white as a sheet.”
“He’s here.” The words come out barely above a whisper. “Outside. My ex. He’s right outside the window.”
Skylar doesn’t waste time asking questions. She grabs my arm and hauls me out of the booth, steering me toward the back of the bar with a grip like iron. We push through the door marked “Restroom,” and she locks it behind us.
“Call Connor.”
“I can handle this myself.”
“Like hell you can.” She pulls my phone from my jacket pocket and shoves it into my trembling hands. “You should have seen your face just now. You looked like you were about to pass out. Call him Fern. Right now. Or I swear to God, I’ll do it myself.”
My fingers shake as I find his number and press call.
He picks up before the first ring finishes. “Fern? What’s wrong?”
“I’m at the Rusty Nail. I saw Robbie outside. He was watching me through the window.”
“I’m already here.” His voice is steady and calm, an anchor in the storm of my panic. “Describe him for me.”
“What?”
“Your ex. What does he look like?”
I close my eyes and force myself to remember. “Tall. About your height. Brown hair, cut short. He was wearing a dark jacket, maybe black or navy. He has a scar on his chin from a bar fight years ago.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll check it out.”
The line goes dead, and Skylar and I wait in silence. Every second feels like an hour. Finally, there’s a knock on the bathroom door, and Connor’s voice filters through.
“It’s me. Open up.”
Skylar unlocks the door, and Connor fills the doorway, his eyes finding mine immediately. “I circled the whole block twice. Whoever you saw, he’s gone now.”
“He was there. I know what I saw.”
“I believe you.” He holds out his hand. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”
The walk back to my cottage is quiet. Connor stays close, and his shoulder brushes mine with every step. I keep expecting to see Robbie lurking in every shadow, but the streets are empty and still.
Once we’re inside with the door locked behind us, Connor turns to face me.
“We should talk.”
“About what?”
“About the lottery. About us. About what happens next. We can’t keep dancing around this, Fern. Whatever’s happening between us, we need to figure it out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
He’s right. I do know it. I’ve known it since the first time he touched me, since the first time I felt the mate bond come to life between us. But knowing something and accepting it are two different things.
“Connor, I can’t do this right now.”
“Then when?” He shuffles closer until there’s barely a foot of space between us. “When are you going to let me in?”
I sputter my lips and reply, “That’s rich coming from you. You’re the one who left me alone in the woods. You’re the one who keeps disappearing every time things get real between us.”
“I know. I know I’ve handled this badly. But I’m here now, Fern. I’m not going anywhere.”