No. I needed an out and so I gave myself one.
Two weeks before Haven’s due date, I’m going back. I don’t want to risk missing the birth of her first child, my little niece, so I think that will give me plenty of leeway.
And I need to focus on that. Focus that there is an end to this.
Because once I return to the US, I’m not sure I’ll be coming back to Bravonne.
They just don’t know it.
I’ll have to tell them at some point. Or at the very least Piers.
I’m not leaving her.
That’s what he’d said, what he’d all but promised. He made his choice and the choice at the time was me. But that might change, he might decide he wants to stay with his pack, and I have to be ready for that too.
I might very well return home even more broken than the last time.
But I’ll survive it. I always do.
Like he can feel my eyes on him, the beta twists his head to catch my gaze. A small smile already on his lips, the shadow of his dimple just starting. But it fades when he sees my expression.
Okay?he mouths at me.
I answer as honestly as I can with a shrug.
He runs worried eyes over me, searching for answers, for more. But I just don’t have anything more to give. I turn my attention away from him, leaning my forehead against the window and watching the buildings pass by. Old ones, ones with history. We don’t have buildings like this on the west coast of the US.
If I was a tourist, someone here for a vacation I’d probably be oohing and ahhing over them, snapping pictures as we pass by. I let myself sink into the fantasy of it, of what it might havebeen like if my knee wasn’t shattered by Frederick Bell, if I’d accepted the invitation to dance for the Royal Ballet for a season, and I arrived in Bravonne as a bright eyed, eager dancer. I would have been excited, jittery with nerves, but hopeful for the future, formyfuture.
Knowing what I know now, that the Ashbourne pack are my fated mates, we probably would have met when they came to a show, with Isadora on their arm. Would it have made a difference? If we’d met a year ago? Under those circumstances? Would they have felt more secure in choosing me?
Or would we end up exactly where we are now? Driving through the streets in a vehicle with blacked out windows to hide who’s inside. Headed not toward the palace, but an apartment a few blocks away, where they think the queen won’t know I’m there.
A secret. Something to hide. To be ashamed of.
I take a deep inhale in through my nose, trying to breathe through the hurt.
If I’m honest I wouldn’t want to stay at the palace anyway. The thought of being in the same room as the Queen of Bravonne is enough to make my hair stand on end. I’m not ashamed to admit that she terrifies me.
So this is probably better, overall. But… I would have liked to meet Elizabeth and her pack. I just don’t think that’s going to happen.
Forsythe isn’t ready for that. He might never be.
My stomach growls and Grieves does too. “We should stop.”
“We’re almost there,” Forsythe sighs, before he reaches forward, to squeeze my shoulder in a way that I think is meant to be reassuring, but just kind of comes off as controlling, as if he can suppress my hunger by his will alone.
I shrug off the touch. “I’m fine.”
He sighs, but I don’t turn to look at him. The prince has been even more distant than normal ever since we got on the plane. Taking the seat farthest from me, pulling out a laptop and industriously clicking away for the entirety of the flight. I’m pretty sure he didn’t look at me once. He certainly didn’t say anything to me.
The black car in front of us peels off and continues down the street, while we turn into an underground parking garage. Grieves drives to the far end, stopping right next to the elevator bank, not pulling into a parking space before he shuts off the car.
No one moves for one long moment, like they’re all waiting to see if someone is going to pop out from between the parked vehicles and start shooting or something. When Grieves finally gives a slow nod, and the rest of the pack reaches for their door handles, I realize it must be something like that.
“Wait,” Forsythe growls when I reach to push open my own door. “Wait for them to give the all clear.”
Grieves, Piers and Court climb out first, congregating on the side of the car closest to the elevator, scanning the area like they’re still looking for threats. My brow furrows, not understanding why it’s okay for them to put themselves at risk, while the rest of us sit safely behind what I assume is bullet proof glass.
