I knew this was a possibility, but I didn't think it would really happen. It's his fault that I'm like this and now I have to be here with him? Withthem. Theyare the reason I'm like this. Theyare the reason I'm here. Theyare the reason my pack is broken, the reason everything is off balance. And nowI'mstuck in this program with them untilIcan find a way to fix this mess.
I was rejected. It's my first thought every morning and it's the last thing that crawls through my mind before I go to sleep at night. “I reject my mate.”And there he is now, walking through the crowd of the troubled like he isn't one of us. Like he's aboveus. With Parker right by his side. I'm not surprised. Parker is as much to blame as Drew. I'd like to give him most of the blame, but Drew had the choice to accept me and he chose Parker instead. He didn't have to make that choice.
I'm leaving.
I can't stay here with them. It isn't even because of my pride because I don't have much of that left. It's the hurt. The pain in my chest when he said those words never faded regardless of the years between then and now. The closer proximity just makes it hurt worse. I can't do this for a week, much less the multiple weeks or even months that I may need to be here.
He stops halfway through the courtyard, rubbing his chest and looking around. I take a small step backward, trying to duck behind the broad back of the male closest to me, but it's too late. Drew may not know what I look like but Parker certainly does and his eyes clash with mine, accusation front and center. I hold his gaze. I'm not dropping mine. It's his fault Drew's heart feels like it's full of broken glass and lead, not mine. I'm a sad ruin, but I refuse to accept the blame for somethinghecaused.
Parker rolls his eyes and keeps urging Drew through the crowd. He can roll his eyes if he wants to, he's still the one to look away first.
Chapter Thirteen
Cross
I have been shifting since I was eleven years old. The first time it hurt so much that I cried through the whole thing. I still haven't decided if the pain of each bone breaking, each joint realigning, was worse or if it was the sound of every crack and pop of those changes. It got easier with time, but that first shift dampened the magic I had built up around the experience.
To think that I could lose it, though? I can't fathom the idea of a world in which I can't shift.
My wolf is abandoning me, breath by breath, moment by moment, because I have denied myself and I have denied him. By rejecting the blessing given to me by our Goddess, I have rejected what it means to be a wolf. Our packs are everything. Our families are everything. Our mates are everything. Eugenia Barrett isn't just my mate, she's my Goddess-blessed mate. Fate chose her for me. I rejected her, and as a result, fate.
My wolf has spent years trying to drag me to her physically. Every single rut, every one of her heats, he leans into the pull. He doesn't care about human preferences. Sure, he's enjoyed other females in the past, it's only natural. He even enjoys spending time with Parker. But no one other than Eugenia will ever satisfy him. He has gone from insistent to angry, and now he's sullen. Almost silent. Disappointed. Ashamed.
He's going to stop coming to me soon. I can feel it like a dark, oily stain of loss growing inside me.
“Cross,” Parker whispers as we wait for the lead counselor team to finish introducing themselves.
“What?” I glance at him and it's enough to see that his entire demeanor has tightened.
“She's here.”
No. Not possible. Not really. “Who?”
“Who the fuck do you think?”
Why? Why is Eugenia here? “Where?”
He sighs. “You sure?”
“Where is she?” I could search for her scent, but I'm a coward. If she's here, I'll be overrun and probably overtaken with it soon enough.
“There,” he says, lifting his chin to the left. “Behind you. Brown hair. Blue shirt. Trying to hide behind some guy.”
I turn my head slowly, almost reluctantly, terrified of what I'll find in her eyes when she looks at me. My gaze lands on her instantly, snapping to hers like a magnet. My entire bodyfreezes, tightening with too many feelings. Surprise. Regret. Pride. Want. Shame. And she looks at me with... nothing. There is nothing in her eyes. I wanted reproach. I needed anger. But nothing? How can she look at me and feel nothing? Unacceptable.
I take one step toward her and two things happen simultaneously. One of her brows arch, and Parker grabs my elbow.
“Later,” he hisses. “If you're going to go to her, do it later. Just wait.”
“Why?” I hiss back, my lip curled into a snarl as I stare into the blank abyss of her eyes.
He sighs again. “Do you really want another audience for this?”
“I don't care.”
“Maybe she does.”
I don't think I care about that, either.
