“Luna sent me,” he says as he reaches us. “She wanted to make sure everything’s under control.”
Nic nods. “Ruby confirmed Skylar made it home safe. She’s not talking to anyone, but at least she’s not out running through the woods anymore.”
Thomas turns his attention to me with an assessing look that makes me want to take a step back. “Hell of a first day.”
I snort. “Not exactly the homecoming I imagined.”
“I don’t suppose it is. You know, I remember when you left. The whole pack was still reeling from the attack on your family, and then you just vanished.”
“I had my reasons.”
“I’m sure you did. Doesn’t mean the people you left behind understood them.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, but the words still land hard.
“She deserves better than this,” I mutter.
“Maybe. But the magic doesn’t deal in what people deserve. It deals in what they need.” Thomas uncrosses his arms as his posture relaxes. “Before you make any decisions about this match, you should know some things about who Skylar is now.”
“Thomas—” Nic starts.
“He needs to hear it.” Thomas doesn’t look away from me as he adds, “Better from us than from pack gossip.”
I brace myself for a lecture about what a piece of garbage I am and how much damage I caused when I left. All of it true and all of it earned.
But Thomas surprises me.
“She’s the senior healer at the medical center. Youngest wolf to ever hold that position in Silvercreek’s history.”
“Senior healer?”
“She earned it. Threw herself into the work after you left and never stopped. Studied constantly, took every assignment she could get, and volunteered for cases nobody else wanted to touch. Within five years, she was running the place.” Thomas pauses to let that sink in. “When the Cheslem situation came to a head, we had wounded wolves flooding the medical center faster than anyone could treat them. Skylar worked for three straight days without sleep. Refused to stop until every patient was stable. Luna had to physically drag her out of the building and order her to rest.”
The image settles in my mind and refuses to leave. Skylar surrounded by injured pack members, refusing to quit because people were counting on her. It clocks, there’s no denying that.
“Half the wolves in Silvercreek owe her their lives,” Thomas continues. “The other half owes her their sanity. She started a trauma support group that meets twice a week, and there’s never an empty seat. People trust her with things they’ve never told anyone else. Not even Fern, the town shrink.”
“She always wanted to help people,” I manage around the tightness in my throat.
“Wanting and doing are different things. Skylar does both. She’s not fragile, Bryan. She’s one of the strongest wolves in this pack, and she’s earned every bit of respect she has. Whatever you decide about this match, you need to understand who she is now. Not who she was ten years ago.”
“I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m trying to do the opposite.”
“By making decisions for her without asking what she wants?” Thomas raises an eyebrow. “Sounds familiar.”
The words land like a fist to the gut. He’s right. That’s exactly what I did ten years ago. I decided what was best for bothof us while telling myself I was protecting her, and I never gave her a say in any of it.
“So what do you suggest?” I ask. “Knock on her door and ask if she’d like to be magically bound to the man who abandoned her?”
“Probably better than vanishing again and making the choice for her.” Thomas glances at Nic. “She’s not a child. She can handle a difficult conversation.”
I think about the woman I saw crossing the town square earlier. Confident and self-assured, looking right through me like I was nobody. That woman doesn’t need anyone to make decisions on her behalf.
“Fine,” I relent. “I’ll find her tomorrow and lay out the options. Tell her I’m willing to refuse the match if that’s what she wants. Her choice, not mine.”
Nic and Thomas exchange a look.
“The hunting cabin on the north edge of town is empty,” Nic states. “Key’s under the mat. Get some sleep if you can.”
I nod and turn toward town without another word. The walk takes fifteen minutes, and I spend every second trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to say to the woman whose heart I broke when I finally stand in front of her again.
