“I’ve seen enough blood to last a lifetime. Now that I’m free... well”—she pauses—“maybe notfree, butyou know what I mean. Anyway, it’s a choice now. And I choose not to. That’s also why I don’t hunt.”
She doesn’t hunt?Jeez, could she be any more wrong for me? As much as I want to be annoyed—she’s a wolf for goddess’s sake—I’m more confused than anything. Why did our Goddess match us when we are total opposites with nothing in common? Maybe that’s just it... It’s about balance. Jay doesn’t eat meat, which only can mean more for me.
Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad now that I think about it. I chuckle to myself.
Jay takes a bite of an apple and wipes her mouth on her arm. I hand her a napkin. Whether she chooses to use it or not is up to her. What matters is she is eating.
“Thank you.” She takes it and blushes, dabbing her mouth. “Just to be clear, I don’t judge those who do. It’s just not my preference. And I completely understand its importance in our culture.”
But that doesn’t explain the big question.
“If you don’t like hunting, why did you insist we come?”
Because mate knows we like it.
That can’t be it. There’s gotta be another reason, I tell him.
“Well, you seemed sad.”
See,my wolf gloats.
“Traditions don’t have to die with the person who started them. Not if you don’t want it to.”
She shrugs and reaches for another piece of fruit. “I’m always pretty sad on my birthday. If you can even call it that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Um...” She bites her lip, and it almost derails me from seeking answers. “I don’t know when my actual birthday is.”
“I thought you said you were twenty-one?”
“I am.”
Jay’s certainty almost convinces me, but if she were twenty-one, her wolf would sense me. Although, I wouldn’t put it past the Moon Goddess to find a new way to torture me.
“Do you remember that photo you tore up and burned?”
“Mm-hmm.”
How could I forget? Even though I’m guilty, I don’t regret it. I did what I had to. It was old and damaged anyway.
“On the back of it, there was writing.”
I nod.
She pauses when I think she is going to continue. Her mouth forms a hard line, waiting for the pieces to come together. When they do, my eyes widen. “Wait. That photo is the only way you know when your birthday is?”
She nods. “And my name. Well, what I could make out from the back. The writing was smudged, so I still had to get a little creative.”
Thinking back to the picture, it wasn’t even a full name or date. Trying to make sense of it, I ask, “Are you saying you don’t know your actual name or birthday?”
The corner of her mouth turns up into a sad smile. “It is...wasthe only thing I had from before... Well, truthfully, it was the only thing I’ve ever owned that was mine first. Everything else—I’m sure this comes to no surprise for you—I’ve had to take.”
I must be the biggest asshole on the planet.
She must sense this because she says, “It’s okay though. I’ve come to own the name Jay. Besides, how many people can say they get to pick their birthday, huh?” She bumps her shoulder into me playfully.
She’s so positive and grateful forliterallynothing. What is considered “nothing” is subjective. If things were different, Jay would never want for anything again—I’d see to that. Although, I’m not sure she’d ever ask for any of it. I imagine I’d have to get good at tracking her patterns to anticipate every want and need.
