My arms slithered around her, and I rested my chin on her shoulder. “I’m here anytime.”
The situation probably needed an intervention, but I decided to let it go.For now.Instead, I did what she asked me to: I comforted one of the pieces of my heart. My Makena.
Some time later, slippers moved across bare floorboards before halting in front of the bedroom.
“I’ll take over now, love,” Tiziano mumbled, his eyes flicking to the blood on both our chests. Makena’s. “Go to sleep; you’ve got an early class.”
He patted me on the head. Tiziano, the Dad provider, was here.
I rinsed off my tears, patted serum onto my face, then flossed and brushed my teeth. I finally scrambled onto my bed, toeing off my socks.
Seriously, how was this fair? We were forced into this whole ‘fated mate’ nonsense in the first place, and when they cheated,wehad to bleed for it? Makena and Gaius weren’t even together, but that didn’t matter. Once you met your mate, you were tethered. You could either choose to reject them and the bond, or you could stay bound. Stay fated mates. Obviously, Makena and Gaius hadn’t severed the bond, but I couldn’t blame them. Rejecting a mate was as traumatic as killing your own wolf. You would live, but something inside you would cry forever.
I was about to step into the sweet land of unconsciousness when my phone lit up.
If I had known how a simple text was about to rearrange the axis of my life, I would have prepared my heart for it.Done some cardio. Maybe brought a defibrillator from school and tucked it under my bed.
CHAPTER 7
YVAINE
Sometimes the decisions we make in life, even the microscopic ones, build a predestined path that zigzags through the forest of life, leading us to a precise destination. First, my hospital shift had changed, and then I’d decided not to stay home with Amaia, since she just wanted to fast and meditate. Next, chance—in the form of Tiziano—had dragged me out to The Baxter that evening.
Finally, I had let Ludmilla borrow my phone. Of all the people in that bar, she’d picked me.
Warm and cozy in the darkness of my room, I was drifting off when the infernal ping came again. I opened one eye, debating whether it was even worth the effort. Probably not. If it were family, they’d have mind-linked me.
I prioritized my REM cycle. With a half-smile, I rubbed my cheek into my lavender-scented pillow.
Sleep heals. Texts don’t.
Ping!
“Again?”
I snatched up my phone, cracking the screen. The strength of werewolves, too much to bear for human technology.
“Oh, great,” I huffed as I knuckled the sleep crust out of my eyes. Pushing up to lean against the headboard, my checkered blanket fell to my lap.
I unlocked the cracked screen. Three new messages from an unknown number.
A hint of curiosity joined the annoyance. I tapped on the first text.
I had to blink twice to make sure I was reading it right. As my slow, foggy mind absorbed what was written, I flinched.
Is this another number? Milla, I don’t have time to see you. And if I did, I wouldn’t anyway
I checked the second message and stared at it in disgust, reading the references to a part of his anatomy. The third text talked about the inadequacy of ‘my’ handling skills.
What a rude, insolent person!
I was fairly certain I hadn’tservicedanyone! Well, minus Sillas, but his number was saved in my phone. Clearly, these texts weren’t meant for me.
Ah. Ludmilla’s boy.
I checked again. There was no trace of Ludmilla’s texts, only the three messages from this vulgar animal.She deleted them.Not that I was curious to read her texts.
Well, I was 98% sure this was her guy. Odds were pretty high. Although, 2% of doubt remained, if only because I couldn’t imagine Ludmilla wanting to deal with such a primate.
