40. Daire
Daire
That morning, while Viktor was still asleep, I’d tried something and had a terrible revelation.
It was all my fault.
Because when I ducked beneath the covers and cupped my hands together, light swelled between my fingers as soon as I called to it.
Too fast, I clenched my hands into fists. I snuffed out the light. I hid my shame.
But there was nothing that I could do that would make me forget that I could touch my magic. No, maybe it hadn’t crashed back into me the second Mother had stopped breathing, but if I reached out for it, it was there.
If I still had Viktor’s wolf, the only reason could be that I was holding onto it so tightly. I wasn’t willing to give him that piece of himself, no matter how it belonged with him.
And at that point, I was firmly convinced that I’d been born terrible, had stayed terrible, and would always be terrible, because I could have everything in the world and I wouldn’t even surrender a part of Viktor that belonged to him.
I wouldn’t, because I was terrified.
The tether had broken. Without his wolf in me and my magic in him, there was nothing binding us together. Nothing shared.
He’d still brought me to his bed the night before, opened his arms when I’d turned into them, held me the whole night through. But what if he . . . what if he stopped wanting to? He would come to his senses just like everyone else had, and realize that the best place for me was away.
At breakfast, I couldn’t look Katya in the eye, knowing that some part of me was stealing from her son. Felt horrible for eating their food and sitting at their table when all I’d ever done was take and hoard things that weren’t mine to start.
The way he looked at me would change. That softness in his eyes would disappear. I saw the way he looked at others, at people he didn’t like—his brows drawn together slightly, his lips firm.
His expression was soft when he looked at me, and goddess, what if that was just because of his wolf I carried around?
The only thing that morning that had kept me from feeling like I was going to fall apart was the press of his lips against mine. He’d been so sweet, even when he shouldn’t have been. He’d helped me when I’d wanted to give up.
And now, his family was sitting around the breakfast table asking what kind of home I wanted. How many bedrooms. What size bathtub.
Tears pooled in my eyes. My next inhale shuddered and came out as a sob before I clapped my hands over my mouth and curled over the table’s edge.
I could feel Cash staring at me. Viktor moved the bowl of porridge away so I didn’t dunk my hair into it. Then, he rubbed his hand up my curved back and squeezed my far shoulder.
“It’s an offer,” he said, voice even and controlled. “You don’t have to take it.”
Another sob tore out of me. That was so far from the issue that I didn’t even know how to put it to words. I didn’t have to take a place to belong or a people who cared about me or a house with . . . with someone I—
“It’s me.” I shoved off the table and forced myself to meet Viktor’s eye, even with tears streaming pathetically down my cheeks. “I’m the reason you don’t have your wolf back. I can—I can—”
I held my hand out between us and let sparks dance across my fingertips. There was my magic, right where I needed it.
Now I felt something like the tether, the magic dancing from somewhere inside Viktor to spring to my hands, but I still had it. I could use it.
I closed my fingers and clutched the front of my shirt over where my heart ached so bad I thought it’d kill me.
“I can’t let go, I can’t—” My lips trembled. My face scrunched up against my tears.
Viktor reached out, his rough hands cupping both my cheeks. “It’s okay,” he promised.
I shook my head, but when he dragged me into his chest so I could sob on his shoulder, I let him. I was so fucking selfish, letting him comfort me about what I’d taken from him. But his fingers combed through my hair, and he held me close, and breathing was easier in his arms.
Nobody else spoke. Everyone was there. Everyone could see me falling apart. And that was just perfect, because I’d always been exhaustingly fucking cringe.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, letting go of my shirt just so I could wrap my arm around his middle and keep him there.
“If I don’t have your wolf anymore, I won’t—there won’t be any reason for you to—you might not like me anymore.
” I hiccupped, fully aware I wasn’t making a lot of sense, but I had to get it out.
“I don’t even like me without your wolf, and I don’t want to lose—lose—” Another sob tore out of me and I smothered it against his chest.
Viktor allowed it for the space of a few breaths, but then he pulled my head up. When he looked at me now, his brow was furrowed. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, brushing his thumbs across my wet cheeks. “I like you. I’ll like you no matter what.”
I sniffed. It was absurd, how he was saying that while I looked so pitiful and my nose started to run.
I wanted to ask him how he knew that, how he could be sure, but before I got the question out, something pressed into my knee. I raised my head to see Altair staring at me across the table, his jaw set stubbornly. It was the ball of his foot that’d shoved my leg.
“Look at me.” He leaned across the table until it dug into his chest, and narrowed his eyes my way. “You get to decide who you are, Daire. Not what you did before, not what someone told you that you are—it’s all what you choose to do next. Right now, with the pack, you like who you are?”
I swallowed hard. The last day had been . . . one of the hardest of my life. But despite everything that’d happened, there was Viktor with his arm around me. A table where I sat and was welcomed. I’d protected people worth protecting.
Cautiously, my whole neck rigid with strain, I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay, then choose that. Keep choosing it. What do you want?”
I took a deep, shaky breath. It took me too long to peel myself off of Viktor and sit up enough to look at Cash’s sketch. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but there were a couple spaces and—
“I don’t think we need two bedrooms,” I whispered. “I mean, everyone I like is . . . you’re here already. But maybe we could use that extra space for a—a bigger kitchen? We could brew potions?”
At once, Altair brightened, a wide grin returning to his face. “Like the one Prudence made for Ivan?”
Right. Evie had hit him with a bottle during the fight. I assumed that was what he’d meant, not that I had much idea how she’d managed to incapacitate him.
I nodded. “Or . . . there are ones that could help us stay alert while we’re working or guarding the perimeter, or ones to dull pain. I know you don’t need much healing, but—”
“That could help,” Leo said, smiling too. “Like the tea we made—”
“For Pa,” Cash agreed with a nod. “It helps, but you probably know more about how to use the right herbs than we do.”
I swallowed, nodding. “I’ve read a lot. I’ll try and remember. Write it down, but—but that’s something we could work on?”
I reached for Viktor’s hand under the table, and my stomach flipped when he squeezed mine back and nodded.
“So you want to stay?” Aleks asked. He looked at me mostly, but I watched his gaze flit nervously to his brother. He was afraid I’d hurt him if I left.
Would it hurt him if I left?
He didn’t need to worry about that—not if I got to decide. “Yeah. If it’s really okay.”
Katya’s cheeks dimpled when she smiled. “Of course it is, kotik. We want you here.”
I took a deep, steadying breath. “Then, yes. I—I really want that, and I want—” I glanced at Viktor, and my smile trembled on my face. “If you want to stay with me . . . ”
He squeezed my hand hard enough that I already knew his answer. With a blustering sigh, I dropped my head onto his shoulder again.
“I’ll try and let go,” I promised. “I want you to have him back, your wolf. I just—I don’t know why it’s so hard, but I’ll figure it out.”
He pressed his lips against the top of my head, and I’d swear, it was more sustaining than anything Katya could’ve made for breakfast.
“We’ll figure it out together,” he promised.
Tether or no, I was pretty sure I wasn’t ever going to let go of his hand.