5. Aerin
5
AERIN
I t’s the next morning and I’m sitting on the grass in the backyard with Adela, working on practicing my powers. Usually I’d have been up earlier, but it’s fast approaching mid-morning because of my struggle to sleep last night.
I’d have called off this practice completely since getting my powers to do anything is becoming an exercise in futility, but Adela insisted. So here I am.
“It’s not working, Adela.” I glare at her for good measure, so she knows I mean it when I say I tried, tried again, and it is still not working.
Adela is as calm as ever. She sits perched on the lounger, wearing a floral sea green-turquoise dress, and doesn’t seem to even notice my glare as she gazes off into the distance. “You’re not focusing.”
“I am.” My tone is indignant.
Soon, probably very soon, I’m going to regret sitting on the grass instead of a lounger because I have a feeling getting up is going to require two people, if not a crane.
She wanders over to the herbs I’ve barely—and only with Bennett’s help—learned not to kill. Bending over, she examines the parsley. That’s a big thing for me. Being able to tell the difference between a herb and a weed, so I know which one to water and which one to kill.
“You’re like a ball of nervous unfocused energy,” she says, touching a leaf.
I stare at her. “But you’re not even looking.”
“I don’t need to look. I see your soul and I see the energy surrounding you. When was the last time you watered this?”
“Adela!” I try to get up. Failing, I flop onto my back instead and wince at the twinge at the base of my spine. I immediately sit up again, try to stand up, and fail. “ Uh ! I’m like a beached whale.”
I cover my face with both hands as I choke back tears. I sat on the grass worried I might break the lounger, and now I can’t get up. My powers aren’t working, and I can’t remember the last time I saw my ankles. Which is probably a good thing because I’m sure they’re as fat as the rest of me.
“ Aerin ?” Mack’s voice drifts from up high.
I peel my palms from my face to find Mack is hanging out of an upstairs window. The nursery window, to be exact. He said he wanted to put a few last minute finishing touches to a surprise he was working on in the nursery and forbid me from going inside. Since the room overlooks the garden, he must have heard me.
“Are you okay?” he calls down, frowning.
“I’m okay,” I lie. I’m not sure I can get up without potentially rolling down the garden and into the forest, but that’s another problem.
His long stare tells me he’s not convinced.
Lately, I’ve become a source of concern and I hate it. Not just to him. To everyone. They tiptoe around me, as if afraid of hurting my feelings or making me cry, which, I will admit, doesn’t take much.
When the back of my eyelids burn, Mack pulls his head back inside. “I’m coming out.”
“No!” I try to get up. Fail and try again. “I’m okay. I just?—”
“Close your eyes and ground yourself,” Adela softly interrupts. “That might be a better starting point to achieving your goals.”
I hope she means getting up and getting my powers to work, because I feel like I’ve been searching for an on switch and can never find one.
But since nothing else is working, I close my eyes and concentrate on grounding myself.
“It’s not working,” I say after five minutes.
There’s a way of reaching beyond myself, using nature: the grass, earth, and even the air to lull myself to a level of calm where all the things usually inhibiting my ability to control my power fall away. The usual culprit is my insecurities about myself. I think it’s why I relate so much to Penny’s struggles with thinking she’s not a good baker when she is.
One aspect of my powers never needed any effort from me, so I never learned how to purposely and expertly wield it. That’s my healing ability. And the other newer, more out-of-control power, which is my ability to use emotion—pain and anger—as a weapon, only appeared a few months ago.
I had been getting better at mastering my abilities until they stopped working.
My power has always been there, like an eager puppy. And now? Now it’s like a dog that’s escaped the leash and has run down the block and I’m yelling for it to come back with no hope it ever will.
I smell Mack before I feel his soft kiss on my lips. Instinctively, I lean into it and he smiles in response.
His scent is warm caramel and sandalwood, a loved scent that reassures me like no other.
When Mack breaks the kiss, I flutter my eyes open, meeting his brown gaze as he crouches in front of me, clutching a pillow.
I raise my eyebrow. “Is it nap time?”
He kisses me again. “If you’re going to sit out here, might be easier with a cushion.”
I sit still as he places it behind me, so I have something supporting me a little. “How’s that?”
“Better,” I say. “When you’re around, things are always better.”
Smiling, as if pleased, his next kiss is softer, slower, and sweeter. When he pulls away, his voice is husky and his eyes heated. “This lesson isn’t important, is it, Adela?” he calls out, still looking at me.
There’s no guessing what he’d rather we were doing instead of this lesson.
“Yes,” Adela says firmly.
Mack blows out a sad sigh. “Pity.”
I can’t help but smile.
He kisses me again and gets to his feet. Then he studies me for a beat, his expression thoughtful. “Your power has never been something you’ve had to control, Aerin. It’s you. You’re a healer. Just let yourself believe it.”
“I’m doing more than my share of believing, trust me,” I mutter. “But no matter what I do, it isn’t there. What if it’s gone forever?”
“It’s a part of you, just like your kindness and your beauty. It’s there, love.” He glances at my belly. “Maybe Thumper has something to do with it?”
I briefly smile at his sweet compliment, but shake my head. “It’s not Thumper. Maybe it’s gotten harder to control since Thumper started using my bladder like a punching bag, but I never could control my power the way I should. It’s so easy for Ivy and Adela. My power just does what it wants most of the time.”
“Have you tried doing nothing? Maybe accept that right now you’re busy growing a human and your powers are going somewhere else.”
I blink. “Going somewhere else?”
“You’re a natural healer, Aerin,” Mack says. “When someone is in pain or hurting, you instinctively reach out. Maybe your power is still there, still working, but instead of going out, it’s going inward?”
Even Adela looks thoughtful. “That sounds interesting.”
I look down, resting a hand on my belly. “You mean to Thumper?”
“Maybe.”
“But Thumper isn’t hurt.”
He kisses my forehead. “But she might be afraid and need reassurance.”
That actually sounds plausible. I’d rather not wait another three months to find out if my power comes back when Thumper is born, but it sounds like a possibility for my powers to be fading as my pregnancy advances.
If I can get Ivy on the phone long enough to have more than a five-minute conversation, since the rare times I’ve spoken to her, she’s sounded harassed, busy and stressed, I could ask her if other omegas in the Lonergan Pack also lose their powers when they’re pregnant.
Mack turns to Adela, saying mildly, “I’d appreciate not having my mate sitting on a hard ground for long.”
It’s not like him to lay down the law. He only seems to do it when it involves making sure I’m okay.
“Your mate is just fine.” Adela snorts.
Mack is the leader, but Adela thinks and does what she wants.
I smile at Mack’s tired sigh as he walks inside, pausing at the doorway to catch my eye. “Call if you need me.”
“I will,” I assure him.
Then I close my eyes again and try to tease out a power that once came so easily to me I had to use brute force to stop myself from healing someone, but which no longer seems to respond to my call at all.
“Aerin?”
The door closes and I listen to Mack’s footsteps as he makes his way upstairs to continue working on a surprise he’s been busy with for the last couple of weeks.
When I’m almost positive he won’t hear me, I turn to Adela and say quietly, “All I know how to be is an omega. Now I’m not even that.”
Shifter ears are sharp. If Mack knew I was harboring such colossal doubts about my identity like this, he’d be right back here, doing his best to soothe them away.
I’m tired of needing to be soothed and comforted. It’s nice, and I’m grateful for it, but lately, it just reminds me of how weak and useless I am. Of how I felt back in the Boone Pack when my dad didn’t make any time for me.
Adela’s knees crack as she settles down on the grass beside me and closes her eyes.
“Adela?”
She pats my shoulder. “Close your eyes and just listen.”
I close them.
We sit in silence for the longest time.
Winds tunnel through the trees. Leaves crinkle and rustle. Something small and fast burrows in the earth on my right. And the scent of rich soil, sweet grass and wild herbs makes this the place I’ve never been happier.
This house and this garden were my safe haven when I most needed one and I will always cherish it. Adela must know it too, because she likes to hold almost all our lessons here.
“What do you hear?”
“The sounds of the forest.”
“Good.”
I wait for more instructions. None are forthcoming.
“Should I be grounding myself?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “We are enjoying the sounds of the forest.”
“Until?”
“You feel at peace.”
“Are we not practicing anymore?”
“No, Aerin. We are learning to live in the moment.”
“And my powers.” Opening my eyes, I turn to look at her. “What if they don’t come back? Am I even an omega then?”
She glances at me, smiling. “I don’t believe they are gone for good. You are and you always will be more than just one thing in your life.”
“But being an omega is what makes me special,” I whisper, in case Mack is listening from the house. His ears are sharp, as are most shifters, but he always respects my privacy when I need it, so he won’t actively be trying to listen in.
“And is that why Mack loves you?”
There she goes again, always seeing right to the heart of my deep insecurities.
“No, I don’t think it is. He loves me for me and I love him for him.”
She nods, her expression pleased. “As it should be. So, we will let go of practice for now, learn to embrace the here and now, and enjoy the sounds of the forest.”
“But practice is important,” I remind her.
“Not at the extent of forgetting the present. You might not always have this forest to enjoy.”
I eye her curiously. “Mack asked me if I wanted to stay here forever. Now you’re saying that. Do you know something I don’t?”
She’s smiling, so whatever she’s hinting at can’t be bad. It definitely has me curious. Is Mack thinking about moving, or is this something else?
“Of course not, dear. Time to embrace peace.”
I study her for a little longer because it’s clear something is going on that she and Mack don’t want me to know.
Then I close my eyes and forget about grounding or mastering powers that have done a disappearing act.
I enjoy the peace and tranquility of a place I love so much. Because Adela was right. Sometimes things change and you don’t always have the things you love anymore. As someone who lost their mother before they even got to know her, I know all about it.