Chapter 8 - Mason
At the voices coming from beyond the window on the upper floor of Jackson’s house, I retreated.
Shit, I thought. I’d scared Bryce.
Moving backward, I let myself melt back into the shadows, my attention still on the guest room. I couldn’t help it; asking myself to keep my distance from Bryce wasn’t something I could do, even if I ought to.
Ever since she came to Honeycreek, I’d found myself patrolling the house while she was alone, and even when Jackson was downstairs.
My protectiveness for her wasn’t abating, even when I saw that she was only sleeping or fixing her hair.
My old habits were hard to kill, and at that point, I was giving in to them.
It kept the twitch inside me at bay. Whenever I was away from her, my thoughts went to her.
I felt my body ache whenever I was near the border of town, as if my distance from her was something tangible, digging into my bones.
So far, Bryce hadn’t noticed, but she had just now, and I could tell by the panic in her voice that she thought an ifrit, another demon crawling out of some portal or other to come for her.
Old habits die hard, huh, Mason? I thought, with a wry smile.
Usually, I kept myself in my wolf form, but there was something about being human that let me keep a harder grip on my thoughts, and I deserved to stay with them.
My wolf helped me to forget enough, and had almost vanished Bryce’s name since she’d left.
But now she was back, and my wolf roared for her. It roared not only for the woman who stood at the window, her eyes scanning the space outside of the house, but it called for the wolf she had buried deep in herself.
Had she even shifted once since moving to White Bay?
I couldn’t tell, but the alpha in me needed to know.
Part of me willed her eyes to lift to the treeline, to spot me.
The other part was scared of what she would think, but I couldn’t stay put.
Ever since Jackson and I had picked Bryce up, I hadn’t been able to quell the persistent need to be around her.
That night and last, all I’d thought about was her being here, her protection over her daughter, and the new light in her eyes that I had never seen but wanted to.
I wanted that fire in Bryce to spark, and I wanted it to come for me, for all I deserved it—but mostly because she deserved to snap.
But for now, I slunk back into the shadows, content that she was with June Leone, the girl who worked at the museum.
I liked her and had recalled that she and Bryce had been friends in high school.
Ever since the pack had begun to meet at the museum, she’d hung out with us more over the months.
She was a good person, and I trusted her around Bryce.
I snorted at my own concept of trust. I was the last person to judge anyone.
I was the one who couldn’t be trusted around her, had failed her years ago, but I wanted to change that.
It was just unfortunate that Bryce wouldn’t give me the time of day.
But that would change. It had to. She had to stop avoiding me sometime, and I’d make her speak to me soon enough.
I told myself to just walk away, but I couldn’t.
At least, the human version of myself couldn’t.
The wolf—the alpha—in me could, especially when I thought of my pack. I had work to do, patrols to run, and locations to check out that Jackson had told me about. They were potential djinn entry portals, and I had originally been out to look at those, not to purposefully check on Bryce.
Seven years really hadn’t changed a whole lot in that sense.
I had no business following her to the very few places she’d already been—the grocery store to get her daughter some candy while she only bought herself a bottle of water while looking around herself, her brow pinched; she’d ventured to the coastline that was just outside of Honeycreek, and I hadn’t retreated until Bryce had been back in her house; and then there had been the woods that she had only taken a few paces into before hurrying back, as if it had called to her and she’d been too afraid to answer—but I couldn’t resist. I was becoming obsessed with Bryce, and I wondered if I had ever truly stopped.
And over my observation of her since returning to Honeycreek, I realized that somebody could change yet stay the same.
It made me smile to see that she couldn’t function without her black tea first thing in the morning, and her alarms were still set between eight and eight-thirty, but she often snoozed it until ten.
Her perfume was still the same, and she’d applied it that morning.
And I was envious of June, who’d been welcomed back into Bryce’s life with a hug.
Now June was there, with Bryce, and I was pushed out.
I could see her face scrunched into the cutest scowl as she stayed at the window, still convinced something had been there, even when June had walked away.
Next to her, Cassie—Cassandra, I reminded myself—popped her head up, her eyes alight.
She pointed at the shadows of the trees where I was.
I stiffened before smoothly moving further back.
Bryce’s eyes swept over where I was, but I knew she couldn’t see me. Her expression was far too devoid of anger.
Once she left the window, I moved closer again. And when June left the house twenty minutes later, tossing burger wrappers into a sidewalk trashcan—something I found strange—I got closer.
As June walked past, I let a twig snap beneath my shoe. Her eyes shot to me, and I saw a beat of fear before she recognized me.
“Mason?” she asked, coming over to me.
“Hey,” I said. “I was… I was on my way to see Bryce but didn’t want to interrupt.”
“It was you outside the window?”
“Well, I wasn’t directly outside, but yeah. I figured I’d hang back and make sure the area’s safe while I waited.” It was a flimsy excuse, but June didn’t voice her doubt; she only raised a brow at me, unconvinced. “Did Jackson not empty his trash again?”
“Hm?”
I jerked my head at the trash can she’d tossed wrappers in. June’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh. Yeah, Bryce asked me to do that. She didn’t want her brother to see the wrappers or anybody to know they were ours. I told them she has no reason to be insecure, that the pack was young and immature, but, well, scars are scars for a reason, right? They don’t leave easily.”
Her eyes narrowed on me, and a stab of guilt and anger pulsed through me. I recalled Theo’s comments from the other night, always so derogatory about Bryce.
“You should speak to her,” June said. “She mentioned she’s only seen you the day you picked her up from her place.”
“And has avoided me ever since.”
“She’s avoiding pretty much everything, Mason.”
June’s voice was soft and consoling, something I wasn’t very used to with being around my pack so often.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Maybe.”
“You deserve a chance to show her you’re a good guy. I know that the folk around here know it. The one person who needs to know it doesn’t. Maybe she should. Anyway, I gotta run to the museum, but can we meet sometime soon? I want to talk to you about something.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked, my defenses alert, thinking of another fire, another issue to solve.
June shook her head. “Nope, but I want to fill you in on some things I’ve discovered.”
“Sure. I’ll catch up with you soon.”
\She nodded and began to head off, but when she was several paces ahead, she turned. “Give her a chance to forgive you. To see who you are now.”
I only nodded, but as soon as June was gone, I remained half-hidden in the treeline, unable to approach her.
My thoughts kept straying to the tossed wrappers.
She was that insecure about her eating habits, of one small burger.
Her vulnerability about her body had been so deep-rooted, and I had not understood, but should have.
The pack had done that, and I had gone along with it, needing to command their respect as their alpha.
Hell, I could kill them. I’d tear them all apart for what they had caused in her—and I was one of them.
I was ashamed, and I knew I needed to be harder on my pack, to have them all grovel before her one day.
An image gripped me: shoving Theo to the floor, prone before Bryce, and her demanding the apology she was entitled to.
I’d watch her, a powerful shifter in her own right, claiming herself back, released from the insecurities my pack had caused.
Back then, when we’d been younger, I’d gone along with it because I’d convinced myself that having any interaction—even at the expense of her—with Bryce was better than nothing.
I had been nothing but a stupid bully, going along with the boys.
Back then, all of us had been stupid and young, not realizing how deeply we would wound her.
But that wasn’t me anymore.
No, I thought. It wasn’t, and I’d prove that to her. I’d protect her now. I would stand in the way of anything that tried to harm her in any way.
I made my way back nearer to the house. If anyone saw me, they’d ask questions, as June had, but I just needed to be near Bryce. I needed to feel that energy of hers surrounding me. Even if she was angry at me, I’d take anything.
She was a siren, and I was helpless to her call.
How could I have let her walk away all those years ago?
How could the father of her child possibly leave her as well?
What had Bryce endured all these years, raising Cassandra alone?
Had she been left? Had it been a choice?
Bryce loved Cassandra fiercely. I’d sensed that already—seen that—so was it possible she had chosen to raise her independently?
But out there, with nobody else to babysit, babysit, help out on those nights when a baby wouldn’t sleep…
If I had been the father, no matter the issues between Bryce and me, I would have helped. Fuck, I’d have had the entire pack doing diaper runs to the store, and learning how to soothe an infant if I couldn’t have been there.
Who was he?
Why hadn’t he ever shown up?
Did he even know he had a child?
And if he did, was it only a matter of time before he turned up at Honeycreek after finding Bryce gone from White Bay and caused trouble?
My eyes lifted to the guest room, finding it empty. I tracked Bryce’s energy to the living room. I moved around the house, finding her sitting curled up with Cassandra. With a paper and pen in hand, her daughter scribbled away, her tongue sticking cutly out.
Bryce’s own gaze was dazed, staring off. My heart kicked into a hard pattern, and I thought she was having another one of her attacks. I figured they were anxiety attacks, but she always went utterly white, her body freezing up, and her chest heaving as her breath rushed in and out of her.
She had been gripped in the clutches of something, and I couldn’t interfere against every instinct. Part of me wanted to force myself into her space when the two had happened, but I couldn’t. How many of those had she gone through alone in White Bay?
Bryce blinked, and I realized she had just been deep in thought.
Tension eased in my chest.
I took a step towards her front door when my phone rang. I knew she heard it. Bryce’s head snapped to the window, and I quickly ducked out of view, answering my phone quickly. Her eyes widened in fear, and I stayed hidden as she searched for something in the trees.
I was supposed to be protecting her, but my cowardice to stay away was only scaring her.
“What?” I snapped into my phone.
“You’re needed at the station,” Theo told me. “There’s been another fire. It’s small, but it has the marks of the demons.”
“Give me five minutes,” I growled. “Have Jackson form the teams. I want you all to be ready to head out when I get there.”
“Got it.”
I hung up, surprised at Theo’s immediate following of my orders. That was unexpected, but the worry of the newest fire swept through me. They were growing way too frequent for comfort. So far, the only damage had been buildings, but how long did I have before that damage became casualties?
Having to leave Bryce behind, I headed down to the station.