“I mean it,” I add, forcing myself to meet her gaze regardless of how difficult it seems. “For what I did back in Wraith Peak.”
Her expression hardens again. “Which part? There are a few to choose from, so take your pick.”
Flinching internally, I try to keep it hidden. “I was following orders.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know that,” I say quietly, not feeling an ounce of sympathy from her, but I force myself to keep going. “I didn’t have a choice, but that doesn’t mean you deserved any of it.”
Sera hesitates, seemingly considering what I’ve said, then she returns with less animosity, “You always have a choice.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I could’ve gone against my father’s word, and maybe I could’ve been more kind to her, especially when she was going through such a difficult time. Itjust didn’t seem like an option before. The tender route never did.
Frustration sparks in me, but I keep it down as well as I can. “I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I’m just…” I stop, exhaling deeply to keep myself steady. “I needed to say it.”
Sera studies me for a long moment like she’s trying to decide if any of this is real, and if I’m being genuine with her. She doesn’t say anything.
“If things were different, I wouldn’t have done that to you.”
“But they weren’t,” she says, not sugarcoating anything as she gently cradles the back of Fern’s head.
“You’re right.”
The truth sits between us, ugly, unavoidable, and beyond uncomfortable, but I don’t deny it. There’s no point now, especially not when I already know the damage I’ve caused and how it still stands to do me no favors.
“You hurt me,” Sera murmurs. “You used something you didn’t even understand against me. You and your family tried to use me just like those wolves did to you.”
The reminder makes me ache all over, and I swallow the guilt. “I know.”
“And now you want to stand here and apologize as if that fixes it?”
“I don’t think it fixes anything.”
“It’s fortunate you’re not completely delusional, then,” she mutters, turning her body just enough to create distance. “I’m not ready to forgive you, and I don’t trust you.”
“I didn’t expect you to be,” I admit, trying to ignore the subtle pain in my ribs, knowing I shouldn’t let any of this bother me. I deserve it, after all.
For a long beat, Sera just stares at me with an unreadable expression, then she nods once, deciding the conversation is over. She turns and walks away without another word, just like that.
I’m left with no resolution, very little understanding, and the kind of distance that makes me feel even more alone than I had before.
“That went well,” I mumble to myself sardonically as I rub at my temple.
It all leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, since a stupid, naive part of me thought maybe it would do something. Maybe if I put my pride aside for a moment, I might manage to change something.
Of course, it didn’t.
I listen as her steps recede, and frustration settles heavily somewhere deep in my chest.
She has every right to her anger, and every right to walk away, but that doesn’t make it easier to stand here and feel like I’m stuck in something I can’t undo. It feels like no matter what I do, it won’t be enough.
As I look toward the river again, something flutters through my awareness, and it makes me pause. It’s something internal, and something I’ve been trying to get used to. The bond.
It pulls suddenly, like a light nudge.
