Tears fill my eyes, and I turn my attention to the kittens. One has a toy mouse in her mouth, and she trots happily across the room with it, tail shaking with excitement.
Guilt eats at me.
I’ve been beating myself up about how I should feel this whole time, shaming myself for my reaction.
But what about Travis, Ryland, and Rowan?
They basically think I’m rejecting them.
I ran out of their packhouse as fast I could earlier, terrified of what would happen if I stayed any longer.
Now, Ryland and Rowan are avoiding me because Travis told them to.
They must think I’m a heartless monster.
“It was my pack,” I tell Travis, my throat thick. I say the words slowly, forcing each syllable out. “They were in the accident.”
I can feel Travis staring at me, but I keep my attention on the confident kitten who lets out proud cries as she parades her plush kill around.
“We had just broken up,” I continue. “We knew that we were better off as friends. We weren’t each other’s scent matches, and we agreed that being friends was the way to go.”
When I finally look at Travis, there’s no pity on his face. He’s just watching me closely, searching my eyes and waiting patiently.
Strong and silent.
“It still sucked,” I laugh humorlessly. “I mean, breakups always suck, right? It’s the changing of a relationship. It hurt, but we also knew that it was the right choice. They would find their Omega, and I would eventually find the right pack for me.”
It suddenly hurts to swallow, as invisible, heavy grief constricts my throat.
“The weather was just like this,” I croak. “Maybe worse. My apartment is small, but they could have stayed. I should have told them to stay. But they left in that storm.”
Travis’s face remains impassive. His scent, along with moss and rain waft through the room, and I know Ryland isn’t far outside the door.
Maybe he’s listening in.
He deserves to know, too, what a mess his scent match is.
“It’s my fault,” I tell Travis. “They’re gone because of me.”
There’s a finality in my tone. There’s no room to argue, because it’s the truth.
I didn’t ask them to stay, and I should have.
Any reasonable person would have.
But, as expected, Travis shakes his head and his eyes narrow to slits. “That’s not true.”
“It is. It’s what happened, Travis. Those are the facts.”
“Bullshit. You don’t control the weather.”
Ash pushes open the door and barrels in, chirping. He jumps up between Travis and me and forms into a loaf contently beside us.
“I could have asked them to stay, and I didn’t. That’s all there is to it.”
A low growl rises in Travis’s throat; one I’ve only heard from him when he interacts with annoying customers. “There were a million options. They could have gotten a hotel. Hell, they could have slept in their car?—”
“It doesn’t matter, Travis. It’s because of me.”
