Chapter 5
Two days of searching those mountains before I found River. Two heart-wrenching days that had me in tears as I fought off believing there was a possibility we’d truly lost him.
Yet, there he was. Standing at the top of that mountain, like a beacon of hope. Only when he asked me to just let him die, I knew this was only the beginning of another rough road. River is full of darkness. Not like dark magic, but his mind… I have no idea what he’s been through, and I don’t expect him to want to talk about wherever he’s been, but I know he’s going to need time.
All it had taken was one look into his previously bright and joyful hazel eyes to see the torture within them. Whether that’s self-inflicted or otherwise, he’s been through hell.
I try to focus on the fact that he hasn’t run from me, and he seems eager to get home—especially since from the few things he’s said, it seems as if his memories were being blocked from him. Maybe some mundane conversation will do him good.
“I have food in the truck if you’re hungry. Oh, and extra clothes.” His aren’t filthy, but I have no clue how long he’s been wearing them.
River seems focused on the trek down the mountain as he nods. “Food and clothes would be good. A shower, too.”
A few rocks slip out from under my boot, but I easily catch myself before falling. We should let our wolves run us down, but I’ve only just got him back, and hearing his voice is the only thing keeping me from not losing my shit.
My insides feel beaten, my heart shattered, and my mind a tornado of jumbled thoughts. The pressure in my chest only intensifies the longer I’m with him. Not that I blame River, but his agony is so palpable that I can barely breathe.
His head is down, and he stumbles as well. As much as I want to hear his voice, I don’t want to be selfish. “Would you rather run down with our wolves?”
The words pain me, but this isn’t about me. This is about River and making sure he’s as comfortable as he can be. If he’s not ready to talk, then I can accept that.
He’s barely even breathing himself, my wolf says, her voice filled with sorrow. He needs us more than ever.
I hear what she’s saying, but there’s a part of me that sees him as he is now—closing off more and more by the second and desolate—that wonders if while I might be his mate that I’m in fact the last person he needs right now.
What does that mean?my wolf snarls.
“Yeah, that might be better,” River finally answers my previous question. “I haven’t been on two feet much lately.”
I make my wolf wait to hear the rest of my thoughts. Instead, I’m focused on my mate, wondering if the moment he shifts, he’s going to run from us. Maybe he’s only stuck around because I happened to find him in his human form.
He wouldn’t run from us, my wolf says confidently.
While I know the River we first met wouldn’t, this isn’t him. He’s a different man, just like we’re a different woman. I can’t force him to be who he was, especially when I have no clue what he’s been through.
I might have allowed myself to be angry with him for leaving without a goodbye, but that’s only because the simmering fury was easier to handle than the hurt of feeling alone.
Now that the sorrow is here in my face, I can’t ignore it or pretend it’s not there because it’s not only mine. It’s both of ours. I need to be strong for not only myself, but for River too.
How can you think you’re the last person our mate needs yet feel the need to be strong for him?she asks with curiosity instead of the snark I expect.
River starts to shift, and I stay frozen in place, watching as energy builds around him. In seconds, his red-brown wolf comes into appearance. Though, he’s more brown from all the dirt than the red highlights I remember.
His wolf takes one look at me and bows his head as he steps closer. I meet him in the middle and reach my hand out but wait for him to make contact first.
The moment his head rubs against my palm, I nearly collapse to the ground from the weight of the relief. I want to weep and yell all at the same time. Tears of joy threaten to fall down my cheeks, but I shove every emotion back, afraid to overwhelm his wolf.
“It’s good to see you again,” I tell him, inching closer.
He lifts his head, then nuzzles his snout against my chest. His chest rumbles, and I can’t hold back the way my body trembles from his closeness. Even if this isn’t the part of River I’m desperate to feel, knowing his wolf isn’t running is enough to break the tight restraints I’ve been holding onto.
“I should shift,” I say with a shaky voice.
His wolf hesitates to back up, but finally does.
As I call my wolf forward, I finally explain my thoughts.
When we get home, we’re giving River space to heal.
He needs us for that, she interjects.
No, he doesn’t.My words are calm, because while I might not understand or even know what River has been through, I was forced to recover from my own trauma on my own. He needs to work through whatever happened to him on his own first. I’m not saying we won’t be there for him as he needs us, but we can’t be the reason he’s okay. He needs to stand on his own two feet again and right now he can barely do that.
I hated my sister for months for telling me that I couldn’t have my mate. I didn’t think our age difference mattered. All I knew was that I was hurting and scared and when he was there, I wasn’t.
Only now that I’ve healed from my traumas, I know that I wouldn’t have done so if I’d used River as a bandage. I had to work through having been abused, controlled, and used as a pawn. My mate would have made me temporarily forget my past, but only I was capable of finding the forgiveness I needed to move forward.
I don’t like that I can see reason in your thoughts, my wolf grumbles.
Me neither, but we have to do what’s best for our mate right now, I tell her. That’s the only way we will truly get him back.
Our conversation ends there as she jogs to catch up with his wolf. The two nip and sniff at each other for a few minutes, each of them growling and rumbling. I have no clue what they’re saying, but I hope that River’s wolf is also ready to come home.
We run the rest of the way down the mountain, racing through the thick foliage and breathing heavily by the time we reach the bottom nearly thirty minutes later.
The moon is still high in the sky and the stars are brighter out here than I’ve grown used to in East Texas. As soon as I shift back to two feet, I take a moment to breathe in the cool night air and appreciate the beauty around us.
Even if nothing feels better yet, that doesn’t mean all is lost. I trust fate to work this out some way.
River shifts back as well, and when he steps closer to me, I freeze in place. I’ve waited years to be with him. I’ve dreamt of touching him and no longer holding back my feelings. Yet, seeing him now, so restrained with his agony, I’m afraid to move even an inch.
“You don’t need to fear me,” he says, a deep frown between his eyes. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Jules.”
Well, look at me screwing things up already.
My hands reach up and cup his face gently. “There isn’t a bone in my body that’s scared of you. I promise.”
“Then, what’s wrong?” he pleads.
How am I supposed to tell the man I love more than my own life that I think he needs space from me to heal? I can’t. At least, not yet. He needs to be home first.
“I just don’t want to do or say the wrong thing,” I tell him sincerely. A half-truth that makes my stomach churn because it’s also a half-lie.
His forehead presses against mine and he breathes me in. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
I’m far from perfect, so it’s definitely possible, but I’m not going to argue with him. I just want to enjoy this time.
We hold each other under the stars, my head resting against his chest and his arms around my waist. Not even my dreams could replicate the warmth that grows within my chest from physically feeling my mate.
He’s here, right in front of me. This isn’t something my imagination has conjured. River’s heart beats with mine, and the heat from his skin melds through to me.
On the inside, I’m shouting with joy, but on the outside, I’m clinging to him like a lifeline. A turbulence of emotions that I’m not sure how to process, but I’m trying to enjoy regardless.
“Why don’t we get home?” River finally says. When he pulls back, there’s a smile on his face, but the action doesn’t hide the anguish that still pulses from within him.
I press a hand to his chest and smile. “I have coffee, too. We can drive all night.”
Hell, I won’t need the caffeine. I’m not sure I’ll sleep for the next couple of days, but my assurance seems to give him a bit of relief as he opens the passenger door. “You might want to drive. I can’t remember the last time I was behind the wheel.”
It’s my turn to frown. “You don’t remember?” I knew it seemed as if his memory was foggy, but I thought once he realized who I was, that went away.
The back of his hand brushes over my cheek. “You get in and drive and we’ll talk.”
And just like that, the boulder is back in my stomach.
I can do this. I can be there for River, be the mate he needs, and strong enough to bear the weight of his pain.
I can and I will do this.