Chapter 31 Mona
It’s not an easy thing, hiding your terror. I trace the tattoo on Silas’s shoulder with my fingertips, committing to memory the dark designs and scars, the thick curves of his muscles before he yanks on his t-shirt.
“You sure you’re okay?” Grayson asks against my forehead, his lips warm, as he leans down to kiss me goodbye for the day.
For longer, but he doesn’t know that.
Sleep never came. I laid awake all night, staring at them, trying to soak up every single moment, every one of their breaths.
An hour ago, Grayson rumbled awake and rolled on top of me with his thick cock pressing between my legs.
I lost myself in our rhythm as he fucked me, channeling every ounce of happiness I could muster—all my joy at having found them, and of Silas being home at last—I let that fuel the bond, masking everything else I was hiding.
After he came, I climbed on top of Orion, turning frenetic with my need for him.
He enjoyed my desperation at first until he sensed the anxiety driving me.
But I didn’t give him time to ask questions, turning to Silas, moving with deliberate slowness, trying to draw out and savor every moment.
But they still knew something was off.
“Just another vision last night,” I tell him sadly. Not a lie.
“Alright, love. I think it’s high time Ghost pulls his fucking weight around here and helps you stave the visions, at least a little. You can’t keep going on like this.”
I hum in agreement. His eyes narrow, and he continues, “We’ll be back in a few hours. Need to check in with Kendrick and the enforcers.”
Grayson leaves, and Orion bends to kiss me goodbye before following him out. I try not to say goodbye like I might never see them again.
Silas lingers after the others, like he always does. He’ll be the first one back tonight, too—walking through that door to find me gone. The thought makes my stomach clench. He tilts my face up with gentle fingers, his dark brows drawing together as he studies me. “Seriously, Mona, what’s wrong?”
My mask is slipping. I shake my head. “The visions are just getting to be a lot. It’s really hard to get any sleep, you know?” I try to shrug it off, as if that’s what’s important here—my beauty sleep.
He still doesn’t look like he believes me, but eventually, he leaves.
And then I’m alone.
And I have to act like it doesn’t tear me apart that Ghost isn’t even here for me to see one last time.
My chest feels hollowed out, scraped raw, and I haven’t even left our cabin yet.
But I’ll endure, because the thought of what’s happening to those wolves, what Deidre threatened to do—it’s a price worth paying.
I wait until I hear the guys leave, followed by Andrea’s arrival for the day, then quietly, quickly, work about my room.
“Alright, I think that’s everything,” I say to Beep as I stuff the backpack full of clothes and toiletries, and anything else I might need. Downstairs, Andrea moves around the kitchen—I can hear the clink of dishes and her heavy booted steps.
My hands shake as I zip the backpack shut. My stomach knots, the room sways enough that I have to press my palm against the wall to steady myself. Then I swing the bag over my shoulder, and glance at my bedroom door.
I have no choice. Just keep moving forward. Put one foot in front of the other. I can get through this.
Trying to focus on something else, I tell Beep, “If you lose my backpack this time, I will find a way to kill you, feel me?”
There’s no snark back, despite the grim joke. She says somberly, I will hold onto your things.
I have until nightfall—that’s what Deidre said. But if I linger all day, I’ll lose my nerve. So, I’m leaving as soon as I can shake off Andrea. For that, I have a plan.
I force myself down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to scan the hallway. Andrea’s still in the kitchen, eating at the breakfast table. Quick and light on my feet, I ease the front door open and slip outside, dropping my backpack into the truck bed. I’m back inside seconds later.
Joining Andrea in the kitchen, she pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth, eyes narrowing. “Where’d you go?”
“Hmm?” I swing open the fridge, busying my hands, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves.
“You went outside just now. Why?”
“What, are you the fucking flower police?” I snap, stomping over to the table with a plate of Hilde’s pastries. My hands are clammy, and I can feel my cheeks flushing.
“Um. What?”
“What?”
Andrea’s expression hardens as she studies me. “What the hell are you talking about? Flower police? Why are you so weird?”
My brain scrambles, and I stutter, not at all suspiciously, “I, uh, I was checking the flower boxes. I noticed they’re getting dry. We’ve barely had any rain lately.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” Andrea digs back into her bowl, then smirks. “You’re going to be one of those, aren’t you?”
“One of what?”
She rolls her eyes. “One of those people who can’t stop talking about the weather. How much rain we get. You’re going to hate it here in the winter, I bet.”
The pastry turns to ash in my mouth, but I force down the last bite. If only I could worry about the fucking weather and how much rainfall we get. If only I had the luxury of knowing I’d still be here when winter comes.
We finish breakfast in silence. Keeping my hands busy, I take her dishes and clean up, while my mind races through the rest of the day. With no reason left to stall, I head outside, and Andrea follows.
“I’d like to swing by the hospital, visit Doc and Lily,” I say, keeping my voice even. Andrea nods, but when I add, “We should take the truck,” she eyes me.
“Alright. It’s a little hot today, anyway.”
I slide into the passenger seat, and my eyes drift to the dashboard. “Looks like the tank is kinda low. We should fill it up after. You have any cash on you?” I ask, keeping my gaze fixed on the side mirror.
She doesn’t read into it. “No, but I’ll grab some at the hospital. We don’t need to get gas, though, I can make one of the enforcers do it.”
I shake my head. “No, it’ll be nice to get out of here for a bit. Besides, you heard what Kendrick said yesterday. They aren’t worried about the witches coming here.”
Andrea opens her mouth to argue, but I raise my hand. “Look, I’m going stir-crazy here. After that bombshell about Kendrick yesterday, I just need a little space to breathe, stretch my legs. Away from here. You know?”
She lets out a frustrated breath. “Fine. A quick trip off the mountain, that’s it. And only because the enforcers haven’t found any traces of witch activity.”
I keep my face neutral, hiding my relief. When we reach the hospital and Andrea parks, I’m out of the truck before she cuts the engine. “I’ll just pop in and check on Lily for a minute,” I call over my shoulder.
“Okaay…” Andrea trails behind me, at a slower pace.
I try not to rush, but I’m inside the hospital ahead of her.
Doc isn’t in the lobby, and I exhale quietly.
I strain my ears toward the hallway and catch the soft sounds of movement from behind Lily’s closed door.
The sharp tang of disinfectant hangs in the air, but Lily’s notably absent.
I duck into an empty room, my heart hammering against my ribs.
He keeps the medication in the drawers on the far left. Hurry.
Thank you, I tell Beep. Doc keeps the same layout in every room, so anyone can find what they need at any time.
Pulling the drawer open, I spy several bottles of medication, the same kind Doc gave me after Andrea nearly killed me at the beginning of the summer.
I saw him administer the same meds to Lily, too.
My hands move quickly, tucking the vials into my waistband and throughout my pockets.
Packaged syringes go into my socks. The drawer clicks shut just as the door swings open.
“What are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh, just fixing my socks.” I shrug, walking past Andrea. Doc is back at the front desk in the empty waiting room.
“Mona, dear, what brings you by?”
“Hey Doc. Sorry, I got the rooms mixed up. I thought Lily was in that one—anyway, where’d she go?”
Doc and Andrea exchange a look that says they aren’t buying it—or it’s a look that says I sound like an idiot.
Either would be accurate. I’m not built for subterfuge.
Whatever, it doesn’t matter if my excuse sounds flimsy.
Right now I’ve got bigger problems—like, how to walk when I’ve got stolen glass vials hidden in my pants, threatening to slip down my legs and clank around my ankles with each step.
At least my pant legs are tucked into my socks.
I’m surprised Andrea hasn’t commented on the strange fashion choice yet.
I paste on my brightest smile. Doc’s eyebrows knit together, stirring the cloud of white hair above them.
“Lily was released late yesterday, in fact. She’s on her feet again, vitals stable.
The physical recovery is one thing—the emotional healing will take longer, but Kendrick was eager to bring her home.
At least, her home here, for now. I’m not sure what their long-term plan is.
As you know, Kendrick’s both Lune of his clan in the Pacific Northwest, but also Máni of our people.
He won’t want to stay here much longer, I’m sure. ”
My smile gets obnoxiously brighter the more he talks.
Wolves and privacy—two things that apparently don’t mix.
Aside from Lily’s medical condition, I’m grateful for his candidness.
Because now I know. Whether Kendrick is my biological father or not, this place isn’t his home, and he isn’t staying here.
I guess I’m not either.
The thought twists inside me. Another place that was almost mine. Love I could almost hold onto.
“We should get going,” Andrea says, eyes narrowing on me, as if she can sense the spiraling panic threatening to cut me off at my knees.