I blinked. I had never been so caught off guard, not even when he sat silently on my window, outright accusing me of poisoning him. To his credit, he wasn’t wrong.
What did I live for? For the vengeance, for their deaths, for some sort of peace after the turmoil that was my recent life.
I opened my mouth to say something; Ezra’s gaze was fixated on my mouth.
“What do you live for?” I asked. I couldn’t think of one decent answer that he would find acceptable to his answer, and I knew better than to lie to him. I knew I couldn’t lie to him.
One side of his lip twitched up, but he wasn’t amused. “I asked you first. No family, no pack.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just asking.”
“It’s true, I don’t have any of that. I’m a prisoner,” I whispered.
Ezra took a step towards me, his hand twitched as he lifted it, but then he dropped it again. I followed the movements, a crease between my brows.
“After it’s all over, then what?” he asked. I averted my gaze. I didn’t want to say anything that would be admitting to his accusations. “I’m just trying to understand. You can deny it all you want, but I haven’t said anything to anyone, not even my brothers. You can trust me.”
My gaze snapped to him. “Trust you?” I almost laughed. The word felt so foreign.
He looked taken aback, and I almost felt bad, but he was still the enemy. I had to remember that. He came here for a purpose. To find me. This could just be some of his elaborate ploy.
I think we can trust him - Aksala said.
I jumped, not used to her being around still - How?
I think he has a good heart. His wolf seems good. The man must be too.
But if he’s not, this one is on you - I retorted.
She huffed a laugh - I’ll take that deal.
“Okay,” I said, letting out a long breath. “I guess I have to trust you.”
“Have I given you a reason not to?” he asked, a dark brow shooting up, bunching another faint scar.
“No,” I admitted.
“So, what’s next?” he asked.
I swallowed and toed the worn rug. A shiver ran through me despite the warmth of the fire behind me. I hadn’t thought about what that actually entailed. It always seemed like a far-off plan. But I realized my ending could be weeks away too.
“Simone?” I looked back up at him. He reached out a hand again, but this time he didn’t drop it. He brushed a warm, calloused hand against my cheek, and my entire essence seemed to react to his featherlight touch. Without meaning to, without realizing what I was doing, I leaned into his palm and savored the human contact that I had been so long without.
“It’s okay,” he promised. “You can tell me.”
I closed my eyes tighter and finally admitted, “I wasn’t going to live long enough to find a new purpose.” The words rattled through me, sliced me open, and I knew if I opened my mouth again, I would choke on a sob.
“Who do you have waiting on the other side?” He asked, brushing a thumb across my cheek. I felt him get closer, and his warm, strong presence steadied me.
“Everyone,” I breathed.
He took another step closer and pulled me against his chest. He smelled like the forest after it rained. He smelled familiar of home. It reminded me of my childhood, and I bit back a sob. Admitting that was enough; I couldn’t, I wouldn’t break down in front of him.
His arms tightened against me, and he whispered into my hair, “It’s okay,” he said. But it wasn’t, and it never would be. Not until they were all dead.
After a few too-short moments, I pulled away. I was feeling wildly vulnerable, a feeling that I hated. I stood back tall and looked out the window, not staring at anything in particular.
“Thanks,” I muttered lowly, but I knew he could hear.
It took him a few moments, but he turned back toward the window too. Part of me expected him to call in some hidden guards to take me away or make a run for it to tell Alpha Raymond.
But he stayed.
“You don’t even want to live for your mate?” he asked.
“I never once thought about them,” I admitted truthfully. I planned to end this, and then, then, I wouldn’t stick around for the repercussions. “My mate will be better out without me,” I mumbled, not meaning to speak it aloud.
Who would want a packless, orphan, killer? I had nothing to offer. I didn’t even have a part of myself I recognized I could give them.
“I understand,” he replied.
“I won’t get a chance to find them anyway.” I shrugged. Unless they were in this Goddess-forsaken pack which I hoped not. “What about you?”
“We don't get one,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Everyone does. Or so they say.” I shrugged.
“Mates were a weakness of ours. I respected. We respected our future mates enough to not have them succumb to the will of our…. Of our master.”
I finally dared to ask, “The Silent Assassin?”
“Yes. He.. We saw with others older than us. He took them. Their mates, to protect them, he said.” His sour voice didn't match his impassive face. “He held them in a house to make sure others wouldn't get to them. Again, his words.”
I sucked in a breath. “Oh.”
I could feel his eyes flicker to me. “But he held them as collateral, not for their protection,” he explained. The words felt heavy, and he kept tripping over them. I wondered if he ever spoke this aloud to anyone. “We were young, but we heard that the others weren't allowed to see their mates unless they completed jobs. Mates were kept as rewards for his orphans,” he spat.
“He used them as pawns, and we decided that we could never have that weakness,” he said. “That's what we told each other. But we all knew that we would never subject a mate to that.”
“You can't stop-”
“You can.” He lifted his arm and pushed back a long sleeve. A black tattoo stood there stark against his skin, a dark circle with a gash through it, a claw mark that never healed. “Magic. It nullifies the bond. None of us or our mates will feel the bond. It was for the best.”
“I understand,” I said, repeating his words back to him.