Chapter 10 Mona
The car ride is long. The only good thing is that my heat is just about over. I’m able to ignore the lingering spikes and deal with the pain. Silas knows—each time a wave comes, his eyes shoot to mine. But I clench my jaw and look away.
I don’t want him to fuck me again.
And I desperately want him to fuck me again.
It’s for the best that my heat-addled brain didn’t have room to panic about facing him in that basement three days ago. Everything that came before—what he did to me, what he did for me—I see it clearly now. So can Beep.
But whatever he did—freeing Beep, saving me from Deidre’s clutches, helping me through the heat—it was all out of obligation. The actions of a man paying back a debt he never asked for.
Well, I refuse to be another weight dragging him down. It’s clear he has demons. It’s like watching smoke move behind glass—the sheer magnitude of it clouds everything inside him. Without the bond, I might not have known how bad it was.
He’s constantly simmering, and his hatred, his anger, it’s so intense it makes it hard to breathe.
Especially when it’s directed at me.
I’ve tried to apologize, but then he just gets more upset.
The guys take turns driving, but we never stop moving. We’re close to the border now. Close to Silent Peak.
My chest aches when I think of Grayson and Orion. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like years since I’ve been in their arms. I miss them so much. It’s like entire chunks of my being are missing.
Not that long ago, I thought having a mate—let alone two—was outrageous. Now, I feel selfish that I want all four of them.
“I need to take a leak,” Silas mutters, pulling off the highway. I could use a break too, but the guys are so on edge about sitting still, I haven’t asked for one.
You are their omega, they will do as you ask, Beep informs me.
I’m not sure they want an omega, Beep. In fact, I’m certain they don’t, I reply.
I can feel her annoyance. If I wasn’t so hurt by their rejection, I’d laugh.
Silas pulls up to a gas station a few minutes later.
He disappears out of the car, and typically, they work together, one pumping gas, the other buying food, then at the next stop, switching places.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they work as seamlessly as Orion and Grayson, that they’d known each other for ages.
But Ghost doesn’t get out of the car this time.
He’s quiet, and the space between us feels charged with all the things left unsaid. I really wish he’d drop his shield. Just to let me scent him one more time before he leaves. He took care of me and Silas at the cabin, and he didn’t have to. He could have left us. But he stayed.
That has to be enough. My heart pinches when he finally gets out of the car, but then the back door opens and he climbs in beside me. I squeak and scooch back, giving him room.
I can count on one hand the number of times he’s looked directly at me. When our eyes meet, something stirs behind his striking golden-amber eyes. His wolf is there, watching.
Not a wolf, Beep tells me.
What is he? I ask.
I don’t know. She sniffs. He smells… clean.
I snort a laugh, and Ghost’s eyebrows raise.
“Sorry. Beep’s just—” Then I pause, remembering he doesn’t know about Beep.
So he surprises me by saying, “That’s right. Kendrick told me you talk to your wolf.”
“How does he know?”
“Grayson.”
Of course. Those wolves don’t know the meaning of privacy.
Ghost smiles faintly, a light blush high on his cheeks.
He runs a hand through his hair, then sighs, leaning back in the seat.
I can’t help but follow the movement of his breath as his chest lifts, his taut stomach flattening on the exhale beneath his t-shirt.
Silas and Grayson are huge—thick, brutish men.
They have earthy, olive tone skin, and valleys and ridges that define their muscles.
Their nearly identical faces have harsh angles with cutting jaws.
Silas’s appearance is almost an armor in itself—a labyrinth of scars cutting across his skin, slicing up the tattoos hiding the rest of him.
Orion is leaner, nearly as tall, with lighter skin, a short, blond, scruffy beard.
He moves with more grace, suggesting he’s built more for speed than blunt force.
His features are the most refined, I think, with high cheekbones and stunning blue eyes.
And when he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the corners, and it makes my knees weak every time.
Ghost is smaller. Not small, just… shorter than them, more trim.
Lithe. His skin is darker, golden brown with bronze undertones, with thick dark lashes and black hair, which makes the way his eyes shine bright gold absolutely breathtaking—when he deigns to look at you, that is.
His forearms are corded, and they stretch and flex as he cracks his knuckles, searching for his words—allowing me to stare and take him in. I might never get the chance again.
If he wanted, Ghost could sneak past you without being noticed. Maybe it’s his magic, but he holds in on himself, like he’s hiding from the world.
But the moment you look up—it’s like a kaleidoscope.
I get the feeling he’s shown very few people his true self. Me, included. I don’t know him at all. And he’s keeping it that way.
“What’s your real name?” I ask him, assuming it isn’t The Ghost.
“I need to know about your interactions with Deidre,” he replies, without answering.
He won’t even tell me his real name.
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to hide my hurt, nudging a little further on the seat, as if an extra few inches of distance will save my heart.
“She has your blood, Mona. How did she get it?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’ve never met the woman before.”
He hums but doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t seem to like eye contact.
He continues, almost to himself, “Silas bit you, and you shifted for the first time. You met other wolves while on the run, and were eventually led to Silent Peak. Likely your wolf and your mates bringing you together. The Moon Goddess’s magic works like that. So… who did you meet on the road?”
He turns finally and faces me. He’s so fucking hot, his eyes are so sharp and bright, I find myself stuttering over my words. “N-no one. Just other wolves. But we were on the run the whole time. It’s not like we stopped for tea, ya know?”
He looks away, and I can breathe again.
“Your human guardian—he never took your blood?”
I shake my head. “My father, you mean? No, never.”
“He wasn’t your father. Your father is…” he trails off, then changes course. “Do you understand why it’s such a problem that she has your blood, Mona?”
“Please don’t say my name like that,” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest, slouching against the seat. I’ve already had my suspicions about my supposed father not being my real father, since he was human and all, but I’m not dwelling on that asshole anymore.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m stupid. I may be new to this world and not understand all the logistics, but yes, I can fucking imagine why her having my blood is an issue.”
“Right. My apologies. I’m sorry, I’m not used to…”
“What?” I ask, tilting my head toward him. I want him to keep talking. He’s so reserved, I want to open him up and see what’s inside.
And you call me the psycho, Beep snorts.
To be fair, it is usually you.
At least I’m not trying to peer inside my mate.
Aren’t you? I counter. To that, she stays silent.
God, I missed her.
Oblivious to my internal discussion, Ghost elaborates. “I’m not used to having someone I’m responsible for.”
“Well, you’re not responsible for me. We aren’t anything to each other, right?
I’m just—” my words cut off before I say mate.
“I’m sorry I got offended. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bite you and bond you against your will.
” I let out a self-deprecating laugh and turn to look out the window at the cars pulling up to the gas pump.
“You can’t, you know.”
“Can’t what?”
“Bond someone against their will. It’s always consensual. Otherwise, dominant shifters would bond less powerful ones against their will all the time. It would be a significant problem in the shifter community.”
“Because dominant shifters are all assholes?” I raise one eyebrow.
He laughs. This stoic man fucking laughs.
“No. I mean, yes, sometimes. But because a select few shifters would force everyone to bend to their will. It doesn’t work that way.
The hierarchy, it’s there, but it’s supported by the Moon Goddess.
Mates, for example. It’s not like she chose you.
You were already there, waiting. Your time came, that’s all. ”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your magic already existed in this world. And when your mates—” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable having temporarily forgotten he’s included in that list. “When they all exist at the same time in the same place, she wakes your bonds, so you can be together again. The magic was separated in past lives. And now it’s reunited.
So when I say shifters can’t force bonds, what I mean is, the Moon Goddess would not allow a pair to magically bond against one’s will because their magic doesn’t match. It’s like saying…”
He looks out the window, searching for an analogy. But I just want him to keep talking; he can say as much as he wants, take as long as he wants. There’s something hypnotic about the low, even cadence of his voice.
“It’s like saying there’s symbiosis between a lotus and a tiger lily. Both are flowers, sure. But the lotus has more connection with the mud.”
“So you’re the mud,” I tease.
His blush returns, and I. Fucking. Die.