Chapter 31 Mona #2
“Right,” I agree. But my eyes linger on Doc’s face, on the smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
How many centuries has he walked this earth?
And still, he finds joy in life. A reason to smile.
Before I can stop myself, my feet are moving, and suddenly my arms encircle his tall frame.
His chest rumbles with laughter, a sound both wild and warm.
I can feel him absorbing my omega energy, and I let it calm my nerves. This is good. I’m doing the right thing. I kiss Doc on the cheek, and he’s still chuckling jovially when we exit the hospital. Gingerly, I lift myself up into the seat, careful not to clink any of the glass vials in my pants.
Andrea is not stupid. I catch the slight tilt of her head, the way she’s studying me. It doesn’t matter. My plan has to work—there’s no other option. I gesture vaguely at the road ahead.
“Ready when you are,” I say, voice flat.
Andrea makes a noncommittal sound as she shifts into drive. The hospital shrinks in the rearview mirror as we wind our way down the mountain.
I force myself to stare at the trees as I leave this place that has become my home, possibly for the last time. But when we turn onto the dirt road that leads past the diner and toward the gas station, reality settles over me like a shroud.
This is it. I’m leaving.
It’s unrealistic to imagine I might ever return. I’ve seen what Deidre does to her toys. And if I’m the only one left… if she gets what she wants, and we’re still buried in some silo, somewhere in this country, there’s no way my mates will ever find me.
My vision blurs at the edges. I blink rapidly, refusing to acknowledge the tears.
The diner comes into view, and before we can drive past it, I hear myself blurting out, “Stop. Wait, pull over.”
It’s a bad idea, reckless. I’ve got too many secrets I can’t afford to expose, there’s too much on the line. But somehow, I know he’s here. And I need to see him, just once, before I leave.
My throat tightens as I push open the truck door and plant my feet on the ground, moving before doubt can pull me back.
Andrea scans the empty road, first left, then right. “You know, we’re really not supposed to leave grounds without a team of enforcers. Gray and Kendrick assured me the witches aren’t an immediate threat, but…” Her eyes find mine, intense and insistent. “Just stay where I can see you. Alright?”
“It’s just a diner, Andrea.”
“Sure,” she mutters, then yanks the door open. A bell announces our arrival with a cheerful jingle. The diner buzzes with activity, which seems unusual for a weekday morning—every head swivels toward us as we enter.
I’d planned on slipping away at the gas station, but this crowd might offer better cover.
I didn’t know he’d be here, but I suspected. Maybe it’s that familiarity I couldn’t place before I knew who he was to me, but now I recognize it—I feel his presence differently, like there’s an awareness of him I don’t have with other shifters.
We barely make it through the door when the ambush begins.
Lily’s recent release, and since they own the diner, means her entire family has gathered here, and her mother zeroes in on me immediately.
She tries to thank me for finding Lily, refusing to listen to my protests that I had nothing to do with it.
I take advantage, though, and ask if I can order one of everything, like I did last time. “To take home to my mates,” I tell her numbly, which earns me a grandmotherly pinch on the cheek before hurrying away to prepare a bag.
I tug on Andrea’s sleeve. “You grabbed cash from the hospital?”
She nods. Silent Peak, and most other shifter clans, share their finances. Money means little to them, and community buildings like the hospital, the meeting house, the dining hall, all have a small cash box in case someone needs to run an errand or buy something from the humans.
I love the way they live. And I feel another pang of regret when Andrea hands over her entire wallet full of cash, without question. “I’m going to pay for the pastries,” I tell her.
Not lying, not really. But Andrea’s nostrils flare slightly, as if her wolf can scent my half-truth. I’ve been lying all morning, and wolves can sense lies. When she finally just shrugs, the tension in my shoulders ease.
Slipping through the crowd, I feel her at my back, following diligently. I need to find a way to shake her.
My opportunity arrives in the form of a brown-haired shifter whose fixed, genial smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He stares at me with unsettling intensity, then he presses his lips to his mate’s temple before sliding out of the booth and making his way toward me with deliberate steps.
“May we speak?” Kendrick asks. His power is buttoned up again, I can barely feel it.
It’s incredible, what he has access to, what he hides.
I can understand what Doc meant about him needing to leave soon.
He’s containing himself into an unnaturally stiff box, but he shouldn’t be. This land isn’t his home.
I glance around the busy diner. As if reading my thoughts, he nods toward the back. “There’s an office. Perhaps we could speak there—”
“Oh, yes, whatever you need, Máni,” Lily’s mother rushes to say, shoving a giant paper bag with handles into my hands.
“Sure,” I tell Kendrick. Then, because I can feel my omega shaking with unease, I lean into Lily’s mother for a hug. She wraps her arms around me and takes a deep inhale. I want to bask in it. I want to hang onto these wolves and never let go. I pull away, almost abruptly, then turn to Andrea.
“I’ll be back.”
Andrea glances casually between me, Kendrick, and the back of the diner. “Okay. I’ll be right here waiting. Come find me when you’re done.”
I wave at Lily, then follow Kendrick, reluctantly, though this was my idea, through the small door at the back of the diner, down a short hallway lined with shelves stacked with napkins, paper cups, and other dry goods. We come to a small room, and he steps inside.
When I finally give Kendrick my attention, after closing the door and taking stock of the messy room, I find him leaning against the desk, waiting patiently.
“Would you like a seat?”
I shake my head and clutch the paper bag tighter in my fist.
He nods, glancing down at the bag, then at my face. His eyes soften. “I’d hoped to speak with you somewhere a little more appropriate than an office,” he says, almost apologetically.
I shrug. “I’m surprised you were hoping to speak with me at all, considering you hadn’t bothered before.”
He dips his chin and says quietly, “I deserve that.”
“So… what did you want to talk about?” I ask, almost petulantly.
Which is silly. I was the one who wanted to stop at the diner, to speak with him just once.
I want to be here, despite all outward appearances.
Maybe a part of me is hoping he’ll be able to sense my plan.
He’s all powerful, right? He should know. I’m his daughter, he should know.
My thoughts spiral out of control, and suddenly I feel it—that familiar tug on my bonds—Orion first, then Grayson and Silas.
It’s like playing a game of telephone, and I accidentally butt-dialed.
I take a deep, steadying breath and soothe my mates, reassuring them I’m okay.
Andrea has probably already texted them my location, anyway.
They’ll know who I’m with, why this conversation might set me on edge.
Better they think that’s why I’m upset right now.
“Listen, I—”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask, cutting him off. Last night I was enraged. I was ready to yell and scream and let all my hurt out on him. Today, I’m resigned.
Today, I’m tired, sad, and I already miss him. I miss the relationship we never got to have. The one we never will.
“I wasn’t sure I wanted you to know.”
I rear back. “Oh. I see.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“You’re thinking I don’t want you in my life. That my silence was rejection—that I hid myself because I didn’t want to know you. In truth, I want those things more than anything.”
“Then…?” I prompt. “Why not tell me? And don’t give me that line my mates gave me. For my own good, trying to keep me safe, or whatever. I’ve heard it. It’s insulting.”
He lets out a harsh laugh. A little caustic, a little uncertain. He recrosses his legs, adjusting his lean against the messy desk. I’m still white-knuckling the paper bag.
“I loved your mother very much. When you were both killed—when I thought you were both killed,” he corrects, “I was devastated. And I fell into this hole. Depression, maybe. Hard to say. When you live as long as I do, time has a way of slipping past without you noticing. It’s been almost twenty-five years since you were taken from me, but it still feels like yesterday. And now here you are—”
He waves his hand toward me, holding an affectionate smile, his eyes warm and soft.
“Alive and well. Beautiful, smart, capable. A powerful omega in your own right. I suppose, once you got back here safe and sound, I didn’t want to disrupt the life you’ve built.
I didn’t want to tell you that your mother was murdered, burned to ash.
I didn’t want to admit to you that no matter how powerful a man like me is, we still have weaknesses.
We have faults, and we make mistakes. I didn’t want to admit to you that I made a mistake not looking for you, because I didn’t know you were alive.
That all the hardships in your life, growing up the way you did, having to shift for the first time, alone, like you did—all of that was my fault.
Because I was too sad and full of self-pity to realize what was right in front of me. ”