“Okay,” he said, his voice dull.
A little worried about my ward’s state of mind, I hurried into the drugstore and waited in line for what seemed like an eternity behind these two ancient old ladies who were comparing who had the worst diseases. Ugh.
By the time I finally got Sky’s scripts and made it back out to the car, I was half-afraid he might’ve made a run for it. Not that I knew where he might go—and that was my fear.
He remained hunkered down in the passenger seat, not having moved an inch. I set the bag of meds down on the center console and backed the car out of the lot, headed for home.
In the drive, the car still idling, I turned to him before he could bail out. “Sky, wait.”
Sky’s expression was tight, almost pained, but he did as I asked. I held up the paper bag that held his two prescriptions, then handed them to him.
Gentle but firm, I said, “I know you already know this, but I expect you to take these while living with us. Jem said you used to skip doses, and then he told us you stopped taking your meds altogether, but I need you to be honest with us and take them as prescribed. Do you understand?”
Sky’s lips twisted into a sneer. “What’s the alternative? Do you really think I could live happily ever after?” His laugh came out forced and so damn bitter it hurt.
“Yeah, Sky, I do,” I said solemnly. “I believe you still have plenty of life left to live, and plenty of love left to give. All it takes is finding the right Alpha, someone who adores you, who wants to start a family with you, give you the pups of your dreams, a home where you’re safe, a pack where you’re loved. You’ve lost so much, but you’re so young, so full of promise and life.”
Tears slipped down Sky’s cheeks, but he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. My heart clenching, I leaned over and pulled him into a gentle hug. To my surprise, he let me.
“I want that for you, Sky, so please try? If not for you, then for the future children you’re meant to have and hold and love. Life gave you a second chance. Don’t throw it away.”
Sky wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, then shoved the door open and escaped out into the cold. I watched him retreat into the house, my heart feeling oddly heavy, but I meant what I said.
When I went inside, music was playing from Sky’s room, but the medicine bottles were sitting on the kitchen table with a half-finished bottle of water next to them.
I smiled. “Good boy.”
9
SKY
As I satin yet another lobby of yet another doctor’s office, anxiety welled inside me.
This one reminded me of the past. Of when I was fourteen and River and I were with our mom, waiting for them to call our names to talk to us about this rehabilitation program for Alpha-Omega twins.
Our mother, so hopeful, holding onto a brochure, telling us again and again that this might just be an answer to prayers. River scoffed that he didn’t need help. He was fine the way he was.
“Right, Sky?”
I’d just shrugged and hid my face in the tattered knees of my jeans…just like I was doing now, in the chair beside Fletcher in this office, eight years later.
Anxiety swamped me. I wiped my clammy palms on the thighs of my jeans, feeling more than a little unsteady.
Fletcher immediately took notice. “Sky? Are you okay?”
Biting my lip, I shook my head and jumped to my feet. I began to pace. Back and forth, back and forth. I tried to focus onbreathing techniques I’d learned from past therapists that Jem had dragged me to, but everything was so muddy.
Everything about this place made me feel like a child again. Made me feel like I was being abandoned again. I knew it was foolish, but emotions weren’t logical.
I sat down next to Fletcher and clung to his arm, hating my voice when it came out so small. “Please don’t leave me here,” I begged.
His moss-green eyes widened. “What? I would never do that. I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come back out.”
I blinked the tears away. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
I had no reason not to believe him, but… “I just...” I trailed off, gnawing on my lip. I’d been doing it so frequently that it was raw, like ground beef on the inside. “I…”
