“I’m only here to tell you what’s happening and let you choose what to do with that information. If you want to attempt breaking the curse, we need to coordinate with the Hysopp Coven and prepare the ritual now, here in Grayhide, where we can protect you during the ceremony. If you don’t, you need to decide whether to return to Llewelyn, where your pack can protect you, or stay here, where we can keep you safe, but remain separated from your people.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “Again, those aren’t real choices. They’re just different versions of the same trap.” She stands and moves to the window.
“I know,” I concede. “And I’m sorry this is the position you’re in. Sorry, the universe decided to make you the key to breaking magic you never asked to deal with, and that I’m part of why this feels impossible.”
“Are you?” she challenges, turning to face me. “Sorry, I mean. Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”
The question deserves honesty. Complete, painful honesty without hiding behind careful phrasing or diplomatic language.
“I’m sorry you’re in this position. Sorry, the mate bond happened when you weren’t ready for it, and I kept it secret instead of telling you right away. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t recognize it based on what I already knew about your people. But I’m not sorry we completed the bond, physically, anyway. And I’m not sorry I get to be the one standing beside you through this. Nor am I sorry that breaking the curse requires marrying me, even though I know I should be.”
She tilts her head to the side, eyeing me. “Why? Why aren’t you sorry about that part?”
“Because it means I get you,” I state, holding my arms out wide as if to signal it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “For however long this lasts before you realize you can do better. I get to call you mine in front of everyone. Get to stand beside you while you do something impossible and brave and be part of your life in a way I never thought I’d have with anyone.”
“That’s selfish.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. I’m being selfish by wanting this. By hoping you’ll choose to go through with it despite having every reason to walk away.”
She stares at me for a long moment. Studies my face like she’s searching for lies or manipulation hiding under the honesty.
“And if I say no?” She doesn’t back away when I approach. “If I decide marrying you isn’t worth it, even to break the curse?”
“Then I respect that choice and help defend your territory when Thornridge attacks.” Simple. Direct. True. “I’ll hate watching you deal with the consequences, but it’s your decision to make. Your life. Your pack. Your choice about whether binding yourself to me is worth the cost.”
“You’re really giving me an out.” She sounds almost surprised. “Not pushing. Not manipulating. Just…letting me choose. Just as you have from the beginning…even when I was too frustrated to see it.”
“I’ve already pushed too hard by omitting details and using treaty authority to make you stay. I’m done making your choices for you.”
“Even if I choose wrong?”
“There’s no wrong choice. Just the one you can live with and the one you can’t.” I stop a few feet away, close enough to see the conflict in her pale blue eyes. “I’ll support either one.”
She opens her mouth to respond, and I wait for whatever comes next. Rejection or acceptance, or more questions, I’ll answer as honestly as I can.
Chapter 21 - Sera
The voices downstairs pull me from sleep. I stare at the ceiling of Raegan’s guest room and count my breaths. One. Two. Three. My mind keeps circling back to the same question—can I really do this?
I press my palms against my eyes.
The bed is comfortable. Too comfortable. I could stay here all day and avoid making this choice. Except I can’t. Thornridge is mobilizing. My pack needs me. And somewhere, Reeyan is waiting for an answer.
I drag myself out of bed and find clothes Raegan left folded on a chair. Simple things. Leggings and a soft sweater that smells like lavender. I pull them on and head downstairs.
Raegan sits at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, with her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looks up when I enter and gestures to an empty chair. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
She pours from a pot that looks freshly made and slides the mug across the table. I wrap my hands around it and let the warmth seep into my palms.
“Did you sleep?” she asks.
“Some.” I take a sip. The coffee is strong and exactly what I need. “Where’s Wyn?”
“Meeting with Oren and the others. They’re coordinating security for the ceremony.” She pauses. “If you decide to go through with it.”
There it is. The question I’ve been avoiding since yesterday.
