Dylan
Rich said, “You don’t look well, Cherry. Maybe I should call Dylan.”
“No,” I exclaimed, hearing the note of panic ringing in my tone. “No, I’m fine,” I tried more calmly, but I noticed Rich’s expression grow serious, and his eyes widened as he looked behind me. He’d caught sight of the suitcase on the back seat.
Now both Rich and Sam were looking at me strangely. Worriedly, I realized.
I steeled myself, and even though I knew they wouldn’t believe me, I said, “I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”
I knew the guards wouldn’t dare stop me. As their future Luna, they respected me too much, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t inform Dylan.
Quickly, I climbed back into the car, started the engine and drove out of Lord Hills. Panic quickened my heart, and sweat dampened my forehead. I felt it slipping down my back beneath my thin T-shirt, as I cursed the narrow lanes that didn’t allow for much speed.
As I trundled along, it felt like no time at all before a shape appeared in my rear view mirror. Low and close to the road. Blurry, it moved swiftly, growing rapidly bigger as it came closer. My heart drummed in my chest as I knew deep in my bones that it was Dylan. The grey and white of his wolf was now discernible in the glass of the mirror. The guards must have called him straight away. He must have been working close by for him to have caught up with me so quickly.
Knowing that I had to face him, I slowed down and pulled up at the side of the road. I exited the car just as his wolf padded up. His sleek hunter’s form disappeared, and the tall, muscular body I knew so well filled the space. As usual, he towered over me, his gaze tracking over me from head to toe as if trying to identify what was wrong.
Before he could open his mouth, I said matter-of-factly, “I can’t do this anymore, Dylan. I’m leaving. I can’t go through with the Moon Ceremony.”
For a moment, silence fell, but then he stalked towards me, and my breath hitched in my chest.
“If this is about the ceremony, we can postpone it,” Dylan said. “I don’t care what my father says, or Nu-Chah for that matter. We can wait until we’re ready, Cherry.”
He had been so much gentler over the last few months. Sometimes, when we were both home, we’d sit in the living-room together: Dylan working on his laptop while I drew in my portfolio on the floor. Life had become more companionable.
“Don’t you see, Dylan, that’s just it. I don’t think we’ll ever be ready for the Moon Ceremony.”
He scowled. “But I thought that lately, we’d grown to befriends.”
Lately, most of my time had been spent working on my portfolio for my university applications, and the idea that I was going to lead a different life and move on from this one had cemented itself. I reminded myself that Dylan hadn’t had any time to adjust to this different future. But I knew, too, he didn’t want a future where he was bound to me. He’d never wanted that.
A gentle smile hovered on my lips as I tried to lighten the mood. “We have. You’ve also become a really good cook.”
He huffed a laugh. “If it’s a culinary issue, I promise to learn to cook something other than ramen.” The joke didn’t disguise the melancholy rising in his darkening gaze.
My bottom lip wobbled as anguish pulsed through me, but I reminded myself he didn’t want me. He’d never wanted me as his mate. Likely, he was thinking about his duty to the pack and how my leaving would disappoint everyone.
Yet even as I reminded myself of that, my wolf prickled beneath my skin at what I was about to say. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t enough, Dylan. We’re not enough. I can’t lead this half-life anymore. I want more than what we’ve got. I want a real relationship, a full life.”
His brown eyes held me. “Please, Cherry, stay,” he beseeched. “Please, give us time.”
For a moment, I softened. What I didn’t admit to him was how our one night of passion was the best night of my life, that my life had never felt as full as it had then. But the truth was, his handsomeness hurt me. His being so close and yet forever so far away from me was a daily torture. I couldn’t take wanting him with every fiber of my being, only to be rejected by him over and over.
The last piece of me, the tiny sliver of my heart that had been clinging onto him, fractured as I said, “I can’t be your mate, Dylan. I’m sorry. Goodbye.”
I turned away from him, forcing my feet to carry me to the car. After all, he hadn’t said that he wanted more with me or even that he’d try to give me more. Instead, he’d asked ambiguously for more time. The implication being that he might, one day, feel what I already felt for him but he might not. I was done waiting for my life to begin.
As I shut the door and put my foot on the peddle, I left both my mate and pack behind and told myself this was the start of a fuller life.