Leviathan
Isat on my bed, my face buried in my hands, trying to come to terms with what we’d learned. June had rushed off, obviously upset about whatever had happened during the ritual, and I’d been unable to talk to her about it. I’d tried to rush after her, but Rainier had held me back.
“Give her time, bro,” he’d said. “She needs to sort all this out in her head.”
I rounded on him, irritated and heartbroken. “Are we sure she’s not Naphele? Maybe there was a mistake or something.”
“I’m not a shaman or wizard, man. All I have is this old piece of paper and the stories my grandmother told me.
But this is supposed to be the most accurate way to tell.
Is it one hundred percent? No. But nothing is foolproof.
All I can say is it’s a ninety-nine percent chance that June is not Naphele’s reincarnation. ”
I hadn’t even bothered to respond. I’d stalked off to my cabin, a thousand questions burning through my mind. Now I sat on my bed, regret, shame, and confusion battling it out in my head.
After a while, I pulled my hands from my face and looked toward my closet. Naphele gazed back at me. Her painting was illuminated by my bedside lamp. I needed someone to talk to. Someone to hear me out. I couldn’t think of anyone better.
“What do I do?” I asked her, my voice barely a whisper. “I love her. I…I think I love her as much as I loved you.” Tears stung the backs of my eyes. Even saying those words felt like a betrayal of a kind, but it was true.
“I’m terrified, though,” I said, dragging my hand across my eyes. “If I take her as my mate, what happens if I find you? What if you come back in someone else? How would I choose? Anything I decide feels like I’m giving up on someone, and I don’t want to.”
Naphele started back at me, the faint half smile forever on her lips.
I peered into her eyes, the eyes I’d painted many years ago.
A face that would live forever in my mind.
That was when it hit me. Finally. I couldn’t keep pining after her, hoping and praying to find her reincarnation when I had love here and now.
There was no way to know when or if she would return.
June was here. Now. I loved her, and she was my fated mate.
If there was the slightest chance we could have a life together, I had to take it, didn’t I?
It had been a hundred years, and Naphele hadn’t returned.
What if it was another hundred? What if Rainier was right, and she already had come back, but was living in Australia, England, or Nigeria?
Some far-flung place where I would never come across her?
“Okay. All right. I get it.”
Kneeling, I ran a finger lovingly across the outline of Naphele’s jaw. “I choose June.”
With that, I drew a sheet over the picture, hiding Naphele’s face. It felt like turning a page. Part of me was relieved, but another part was stricken by terror and shame at the decision.
It was late, and June was probably in bed.
I would wait until morning. I sat on my couch, staring into the darkness of the windows for hours.
How could I possibly make June believe that I wanted her more than I wanted to find Naphele?
A deep, dark part of my mind still shouted out against this plan.
That small piece of me would go on loving Naphele forever, would yearn to find her, but I’d done that for far too long. It was time to find a new way.
When the light in the east finally brightened the sky, I grabbed my coat and headed out.
The town was still silent. The only sounds came from the kitchens where breakfast was being prepared.
Staking out a spot by the door of the dining hall, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and waited, more thoughts churning through my head every second.
Roughly an hour later, I spotted June coming out of the bunkhouse with Linnea.
As soon as I saw her, a cascade of emotion flooded through me.
Understanding that she really was the one for me, anger that it had taken me this long to truly realize it, and sadness for what I was leaving behind.
That sadness was overshadowed by the love I felt for her when she turned and locked her eyes on mine.
June stopped in her tracks. There was no smile on her lips, and a tremor of unease skittered through my stomach.
“Can you give us a second?” she asked Linnea. The other woman nodded and hurried off.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Morning,” June said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Look, I obviously didn’t get the chance to say anything last night, but I wanted to tell you how proud I was of you. Learning to shift is huge. You were amazing.”
A hint of a smile shadowed her lips, and my heart leapt a bit. Maybe she hadn’t withdrawn from me completely.
“Thanks,” she muttered, tucking a hair behind her ear. “It was a little weird. I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. I kept, like, feeling and hearing my inner wolf.”
“It’ll be strange,” I admitted. “Especially with you connecting with her so late in life. I think it’s easier when you’re younger.”
“Why are you here?” she asked, shaking her head slightly.
Sighing, I took her hand and led her to a more secluded area. She didn’t pull away or stop me. Once we were far enough away, I let go of her.
“I want to say I’m sorry about everything,” I said.
“Which things?” she asked, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.
“For not being honest with you, for not letting you in as much as I should, and for not putting you first. Naphele is gone. She’s not coming back. You are my fated mate, and I should have understood that.”
June’s eyes widened slightly. “Levi, I’d love to figure this out, to be with you, but how?”
“What do you mean how?” I said, feeling a pit open in my stomach. “We love each other. We move forward and live our lives together.”
“You make that sound easy,” she said, chuckling bitterly. “What are you going to do if Naphele comes back in someone else? I can’t share you. I won’t. I have more self-respect than that. And I won’t make you choose. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Neither of those things would happen. I’m willing to give up anything to be with you. I’ve made peace with the fact that Naphele isn’t coming back—”
She eyed me warily. “Have you?”
For several seconds we looked at one another. Finally, I took her hands in mine.
“June, I chose you. I want to be with you,” I murmured, putting as much emotion into the words as I could.
“You say that now, but I’m not convinced you won’t change your mind if she comes walking into your life a year or two from now.”
Shaking her head, she backed away, then walked to the dining hall, leaving me to watch her go.