Chapter 8
Kiara
Icrumple the letter in my fist, taking in a shaky breath with my eyes closed.
I have options, I just desperately don’t want to use them.
If I clue Ever in on how much I’m struggling, she’ll rally her bondgroup to help in a heartbeat.
Which means Arson will find out, and inevitably, he’ll report back to Vic, even if I ask him not to.
As proven when Vic sent one of his men to ruin my life shortly after I first got to town, and the asshole broke the hand of the man that interviewed me, ensuring nobody in town would hire me.
Havoc may not want me, but for some reason, he still thinks he gets to control my life. Well, did. After I lost my shit and finally got the guy to leave me alone, I haven’t heard a peep from him.
Everything was fine for a while, until I was catching up with Ever and overheard Arson on the phone telling someone he made it perfectly clear to every single bastard around town to keep their eyes to themselves if they wanted to keep them.
It hurt. A lot. I came to Mercy Ridge for a fresh start, and yet again, I was the black sheep.
Vic rejected me, but I could have bounced back, chosen mates to build a bondgroup like most mysts do these days.
It was supposed to be easy. After all, supernatural women are highly coveted with how few of us are born compared to men, and centers even more so.
We heard it all the time growing up; the center builds their bond group and is the heart that brings everyone together.
And then Arson destroyed any chance of that happening and ensured I’d remain alone forever.
I get it, he’s Vic’s son. And even though he’s not a Shadow Knight anymore, that loyalty runs deep. Still… it hurt. So the last few months, I’ve been using work as an excuse to avoid her house.
It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out somehow. Worst case scenario, if I can’t dig my way out of this hole myself, Killian will let me crash on his couch and be thrilled I’m taking him up on his offer to work with him at the hospital.
But I really want to try to do this on my own first, to prove I can stand on my own two feet. That I’m not a burden to everyone around me.
If I let the house go, I can sleep in my office. That’d cut my bills in half. Hell, I might even be able to write off part of my grocery bill as a business deduction.
As soon as the idea crosses my mind, I realize… it really is my house or the clinic. I’m going to have to choose. And when it comes down to it? I’m never going to choose myself over animals that’d suffer without me. I can ask for help; they can’t.
It takes a special kind of person to hear someone that only speaks through pain. And while I may not be as successful as my brother, I’m a damn pro at figuring out what someone needs.
Except my stupid fated mate.
“Okay, Kiara, focus. More clients would fix everything.”
Except, as I learned the hard way after I opened a vet clinic, pets aren’t a big thing in Mercy Ridge.
Most of the people that come here are running from something and looking for a safe haven, ready to run again if their pasts catch up to them.
Survival mode living isn’t really conducive to owning pets.
“Maybe I can rebrand.”
Everyone else has given up on rehabilitating feral shifters. If I can help this sphinx find his humanity again, then word would spread like wildfire through the shifter community. I could do something worthwhile. Save lives.
And afford to buy groceries.
Determined, I head out to check on him only to find his makeshift shelter empty, and my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach.
He’s not the first, and I know damn well he won’t be the last, but his abandonment hits harder than usual when I’m already feeling raw.
Can’t say I blame him though. Everyone leaves eventually.
Because I’m never a good enough reason to stay.