Evander
I’ll give credit where credit is due and admit that Kenna is fast. She darts across the grassy expanse of wide open farmland at a speed I hadn’t expected, and I find myself jogging to try to catch up to her.
She cuts between two barns and disappears into a shadow of silver mist.
“Kenna,” I pant, looking around for the tell-tale signs she’s near.
A twig crunches in the distance. I whirl around to see footsteps shifting through the grass. They disappear as Kenna–invisible to the naked eye–climbs over a fence and down an embankment.
She came into this ability as a child. I vividly remember the day it happened and how jarring it had been. One second, we were playing in the woods surrounding Old Moonrise while her grandmother, Cressendra, forged wild herbs, and the next, Kenna was simply gone.
But not really. I could hear her screaming for help but couldn’t find her. I felt her grabbing my arms, but it was a phantom touch.
Her scream alerted nearby warriors, who then alerted Alpha King Ryatt that his daughter was missing despite me telling them she was right there, but invisible. That I was holding onto her for dear life while she begged for help.
She didn’t know how to change back, and it took several hours for Alpha Westfall of Veiled Valley, her grandfather, and her dad to calm her down enough to try to walk her through it.
We were seven when it happened, and after that day, Kenna spent most of her time training her newly budding powers.
It was also the first day I realized my role in her life.
From that day forward, I promised to protect her at all costs.
I remember Ryatt thinking it was stoic and honorable of me to pledge such a thing at the ripe age of seven. I knelt before him in his throne room, wearing a ragged pair of overalls I’d grown out of the year prior. I wanted it to be formal, official.
Because I meant it.
Little did he know that keeping that promise meant breaking her heart almost a decade later.
I walk down the embankment, meeting a rocky, shallow valley with a creek bubbling through it. Through the glare of the setting sun, I can just make out her shadow perched on a distant rock, those shreds of silver light glittering against rich, vibrant gold streaks of sunlight.
“Go away,” she says.
I sit down on a rock several feet behind her and wrap my arms around my knees.
She begins to come back into view.
“I don’t need you to follow me around wherever I go. It’s creepy.”
“It’s my job.”
“It’s not.”
“It is, Kenna.”
She whips her head to look at me. Her eyes are the purest silver I’ve ever seen, but I know if I were closer, I’d be able to see flakes of blue around her pupils–the same color blue as Sydney’s eyes.
I hold her gaze as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the mountainous landscape in deep shades of violet.
“Evander,” she says, turning in her lounge chair with a smile bright enough to blind. “I missed you yesterday. I thought you’d be here for my party–”
Her scent hits me like a punch to the gut. Sparks fly up my arms, settling deep in my chest as something–something unbreakable weaves around my heart and squeezes tight.
“No,” I say aloud, confused, finding it hard to focus as the… the mate bond snaps into place.
I blink, the memory of the moment I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Kenna was my mate drifts back into the recesses of my mind where it refuses to fade away entirely.
She’s looking at me like she did that day–broken, confused, and scared.
“Why are the Rebels after me?” she asks quietly.
I stand and hop to another boulder, putting less distance between us as I sit back down. “What do you know about the Rebels?”
She draws her knees against her chest, resting her chin on her left kneecap as she faces the inky dark horizon.
“Not much. I know there have been whispers of conflict brewing, but the past few months, my priorities have been preparing for the Rite and–” She cuts herself off.
“And finding your mate,” I finish for her, the words like acid on my tongue.
What I’m doing to her is unforgivable.
In my defense, and it’s the only defense I have, I did reject her. At least, I thought telling her I hated her, that I never wanted to see her again, would count for something.
But the bond didn’t break.
She tilts her chin toward the stars as heavy clouds start to rush in, a stiff breeze rippling over the rocks.. “I can’t feel the mate bond. I don’t know why I wanted it so badly when I knew, deep down, it was impossible. I can barely shift, did you know that? Did whatever file you had on me for this mission tell you that I can’t shift?”
“You can shift, Kenna.”
“It hurts, Evander.” She mimics my tone, but doesn’t look at me. “Shifting hurts so bad, and I can’t–if I try to shift, I get scared of the pain and back out.”
I watch her pick at a crop of moss covering the rock she’s sitting on.
She continues, “And then when I am in my wolf form, I’m just… I’m tiny. I’m clumsy and can’t seem to get my feet under me. My wolf senses are… minimal, at best.”
“But you’re a powerful witch. Don’t forget that.”
She sighs. I’m still watching her slender finger absently toy with the moss. I refuse to think about last night, in that alcove, when those fingers had been clutching my shirt as she drew me in for a deeper kiss.
I look down at my own hands and flex them.
“Have you been looking?” she asks just as the first drops of rain fall from the sky. The clouds swallow the stars whole, blocking out whatever light from the sunset is left.
“For what?”
“For your mate?” She turns to look at me.
I hold her gaze, debating my options, studying every combination of words I could say to her.
“No.”
She swallows, nodding as she turns back to the stormy horizon. Lightning flashes, thunder rumbling through the valleys below us.
“I guess we just be… miserable and lonely together,” she huffs, tilting her face to the rain.
“I don’t think you’re capable of being miserable, Kenna. You’ve always been… happy. Kind and sociable–”
“Why aren’t we friends anymore?”
I suck in a breath, gritting my teeth. I do owe her an explanation, I just can’t… I can’t tell her the full truth. “You know what line of work I’m in–”
“I would have still been your friend no matter what. No matter what you were training for, or what you did with your gifts and I… I’m sorry, Evander.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kenna. What–”
Her eyes meet mine in the dark. “I didn’t know how strongly you felt about missing my party and when I told you I liked you, it was….” She bites her lip, and I’m about to lose control of the restraint I’ve let build for all these years.
“Kenna, listen–”
Lightning cracks over our heads, so close I can smell the charred remains of whatever rock just exploded in a deafening sound several yards away.
I rush to her as she screams, covering her ears.
“We need to go,” I tell her and guide her upright, helping her maneuver over the rocks.
“Cleo was right about the storm.”
“Yeah, she was.” The grass is saturated with rain as we edge toward the shed.
“Why didn’t you let us just sleep in the house?”
“We don’t know these people.”
“Is everyone a threat to you?”
“If you’re involved, yes. Everyone is a threat.” What I don’t say as I lead her into the shed and roll out her bedroll is that I’d flatten armies in her name. I’d use my bare hands, my claws, and my teeth to turn the sea at the edge of Tarsian red if anyone so much as raised a hand to her.
One day, she will be Queen of Eastonia, and I will be her Beta.
But I can’t be her mate, not when there’s so much at stake.
Being around her makes me weak, dizzy, and unfocused. She is the only thing that takes up any space in my head when she’s around, and how am I supposed to protect her when her proximity makes me so wholly unfocused on the dangers all around us?
This lie is for her own good. She’ll find someone, one day. Someone who deserves her pure heart. She’ll have his children, and together, they will rule.
He won’t have to worry about her safety because I’ll be there watching, taking out anyone who threatens to lay a finger on my queen.
While she lives out a dream I once dreamt for myself…
And I’ll be doing… this.
I sit up. It’s been several hours since we came back to the shed, and Kenna is fast asleep beside me. I haven’t slept at all. I can’t when I’m around her. I’ve been listening to the sounds of the farm for hours, trying to determine what’s normal and abnormal at this time of night.
The rain is stopping, but the tin roof overhead still thumps with heavy drops that blur the night sounds beyond the shed.
But I hear wolves–several of them. Their scents mingle as they approach the property.
I’m out of the shed in a matter of seconds, pulling on my armored gloves and preparing to shift as four wolves come into view.
They can’t see or scent me, I’ve made sure of that. Training to be a Ghost for over a decade has had its advantages.
A low howl breaks through the air, petering off in a whimper. Something’s wrong…. These wolves aren’t aggressive, and I can sense an underlying ripple of desperation as the group approaches Neiman and Cleo’s front door.
I pick up pounding footsteps on stairs before the door opens and the couple steps out into the night, just as I walk into view.
Cleo glances at me but turns back to the wolves.
They’re using the mind-link. I think they are , at least. Because no one speaks aloud.
But Cleo nods before turning to her husband and saying, “Run upstairs and grab my cloak and bag.”
I eye the group of wolves. One of them takes off at an insane rate of speed, disappearing into the night, but the others remain.
They don’t pay me any mind as I edge toward the house. The group parts to allow me to walk up the front steps and across the threshold.
Cleo is in the kitchen pulling jars of herbs from a tall shelf, a smattering of supplies covering her work table.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“I have to go into Tiscoln,” she says hurriedly. “There’s a young woman there struggling in labor. They let her suffer for two days before trying to find help. This is her first baby, and they’re not sure the child is alive anymore.”
She curses under her breath as a jar falls and shatters on the ground.
I’m at her side in an instant, waving her away as she stoops to pick it up.
Tears cloud her eyes as I straighten, dumping the glass shards in a waste basket.
“Tiscoln’s midwife is away for a birth higher in the mountains.”
“Have you delivered a baby before?”
“My own,” she admits, smoothing a hand over her face. “But this woman is very sick, from what I was just told. I don’t know how helpful I’ll be.”
I take a deep breath and study her face. As much as I want to keep Kenna as hidden as possible… She is the only person who can help right now.
“I’m going to go get Kenna. She’s a midwife.”
Cleo nods but winces. “Tiscoln won’t take kindly to a witch in their village–”
“Do you want this woman and her baby to live, or not?”