“That’s different. That’s biology. Fate. Whatever. This is just—”
“Just what?” Her voice is gentle but unyielding. “Just you falling for someone who saved your life? Who bound himself to you? Who refuses to leave your side even when his entire clan is falling apart around him?”
“He’s staying because he has to. Because of the bond.”
“Is that what you really think?” Nadia leans back. “Because I saw how he looked at you back there after the battle. And Mara—that’s not duty. That’s not obligation. That’s a man who’s just found something precious.”
My chest aches. “You don’t know that.”
“I am wolf. I could literally smell the pheromones rolling off him when he was near you.” She says it bluntly. “He’s bonded to you on more than just a magical level. Whether he’s admitted it to himself or not.”
Hope flares in my chest. Painful. Dangerous.
“Even if that’s true—even if he feels something—what does it matter?” My voice cracks. “When we were together, when we were as close as two people can be, he was thinking of her. Calling for her. That’s not—” I stop. “That’s not something you can just explain away.”
Nadia is quiet for a long moment.
“No,” she finally says. “It’s not. And I won’t lie to you and say it doesn’t hurt or that it doesn’t mean something. But Mara—” She leans forward. “It also doesn’t mean you’re worthless. It means he’s dealing with trauma he’s only just remembered. It meanshe’s human—or dragon—or whatever. It means he’s messy and broken and trying to figure out how to live again after four hundred years of sleep.”
“I don’t know if I can be with someone who sees someone else when they look at me.”
“Then ask him.” Nadia’s voice is firm. “Ask him what he sees. What he feels. Give him the chance to explain instead of assuming you know.”
“And if the answer breaks me?”
“Then you’ll survive.” Her smile is sad. Understanding. “You’ll hurt. But you’ll survive. And at least you’ll know. At least you won’t spend your life wondering ‘what if.’”
I want to argue. Want to explain all the reasons why asking would be the stupidest possible thing I could do.
But I’m too tired.
Too wrung out.
A sob builds in my throat. I try to swallow it down.
Fail.
Suddenly I’m crying, and Nadia’s arms are around me, and she’s making those soft sounds that mothers make to soothe their children.
Not that I’d know from experience.
“I can’t tell him,” I manage between sobs. “I can’t.”
“I think you’ll find that you can,” Nadia says into my hair. “Everything is hard right now. But you’ll be back to your old self soon, and things will be easier to face.”
She’s right. I know she is. It’s the reason I’m so emotional right now. I’m never like this normally.
The crying slows. Stops. Leaves me wrung out and hollow.
Nadia pulls back. Produces tissues from somewhere. I take them and wipe my face.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “That was—”
“Needed.” She squeezes my shoulder. “You’ve been through hell. Probably got a touch of PTSD. You’re allowed to fall apart. That’s what pack is for.”
Pack.
The word sits warm in my chest.
