Ryan
I watch Jacob lead Mercy away. He’s careful not to touch her, but his hand hovers over her lower back as she lifts her skirts to pick her way out of the forest. I let out my breath and turn to Aviva, who has been sitting silently on a ledge surrounding the remains of the temple ruins she was guarding like a dragon defending its horde the first time we were ever able to speak to each other.
I look at her like I looked at her that night after her father gave her to me in marriage. She’s still wild, still beautiful, and has an echo of that same furious look that cloaked her face during our first few days together.
My heart beats slightly of rhythm as her scent is carried on the wind–lovely, soft, sweet. A scent that makes me curl my hands into fists to stop from touching her.
This is remarkably unfair. To both of us.
Because now I know what’s happening, and I still can’t bring myself to accept it.
“Do you think they’re really mates?” Aviva asks. Is the first time she’s spoken to me since she arrived this morning, at least, in a tone that edges on friendly. Screaming at me? Yeah, I’d deserved it. I’d deserved the slap, too.
“I do.”
“Why? Can you tell?”
“Her scent is mingled with his,” I say as I turn toward her, leaning on an old column I pray holds my weight. “The way he looks at her is telling. His pupils grow larger and he’s… rather protective of her right now, regardless of the circumstances.”
Aviva won’t meet my eyes. How fucked up of me. That’s all I can think about. My mind is a tangle of regret. I’ve been so awful to her. I’ve pushed her away and taken advantage of her when it suited me, reminding her that she belongs to me when I knew, deep down, she didn’t.
But now she does and I can’t… fuck, I just can’t accept it. I don’t deserve this, and part of me wonders if this is a test from the Goddess Herself. To give me something soft and beautiful and rip it away the moment I acknowledge it as a lesson, as karma, for killing the first gift She bestowed upon me.
“Aviva,” I begin before I can stop myself. Her eyes turn up to meet mine, bathed in sunlight, gleaming that incredible whiskey color that makes me dizzy. “I was told that Hardan believes you’re his mate.”
Her eyes crease as she smiles, which quickly turns to a bitter laugh. “What a way to try to win over my father. Pillaging my people, and all.”
I want to smile back but grit my teeth. “Have you ever met him?”
“No.”
“So you’ve never been face to face?”
“Are you asking me if I’ve ever felt the mate bond? Because you know my answer.” But her eyes change. They darken to a rich bronze the same color as the freckles dotted across the bridge of her crinkled nose as she turns that radiant smile into a frown. “He isn’t my mate.”
“I know,” I whisper, and the words crush me.
She takes a breath and looks toward the pocket of sunlight where Jacob and Mercy faded out of view, shaking her head. “What now? Mercy comes back to Silverhide with us?”
“No, not for a while. Jacob will offer her bride price, and Silverhide will pay it. He’s going to stay here for the time being to act as an… emissary for me, of sorts, to manage any threats from Hardan and Navvan. He has my permission to marry–to hand-fast with her, if they choose.”
“Does he really need your permission?”
“No, but I gave him my blessing anyway.”
“Are you going soft, Alpha?” The teasing glint in her tone wobbles, like she’s unsure. Like she’s trying to stay mad, and I kind of wish she would.
“Aviva, I…”
“We’re mates, aren’t we?”
I close my eyes. My blood simmers in my veins. Hearing the words come out of her mouth ignites that pull, finally. A pull so strong it’s enough to knock me off my feet, but I stay standing by some miracle.
“I believe so.”
Silence hugs the clearing between us, and when I finally open my eyes, she’s gone, leaving so silently and swiftly I hadn’t heard her footsteps crunching in the dry, dead leaves leftover from a brutal winter.
I return to the village a few minutes later after barely gathering myself. My head is in shambles, and my body thrums with a dull ache. I can’t shift right now, even with the vial of tears in my system. Someone my size with my strength would have needed three to fully heal.
One vial brought me back, but I welcome the suffering of my sore, aching muscles flexing against the wounds littering my broken body. It’ll keep my mind off me… mate. For now.
The day passes in a blur of activity. I meet with Jerrod to discuss not only Navvan but the prospect of his eldest daughter marrying into my pack. Jerrod is elated, telling me that Mercy’s bride price was paid in droves by Jacob’s action in the skirmish, no other action needed besides a swift hand-fasting ceremony. Jacob is confirmed to be staying in Endova for the time being, which I think is smart, even though we’ll miss him in Silverhide during the busiest season of the year.
I send Hunter back to Silverhide in the late afternoon with news of my survival and my impending arrival. I decide after little deliberation that Aviva and I will set off in the morning for Silverhide, alone. And on foot, unless by some miracle the poison dampening my powers is metabolized by then.
I don’t go to the feast in the meeting hall held in celebration of our triumph over Navvan. It wasn’t really a win, was it? Not when I can feel the threat of Hardan in my bones. He’s just one man, though. Right now, the only thing on my mind is sleep… and Aviva.
I haven’t seen her all day at this point. I’m not going to push her to accept our bond because I honestly can’t bring myself to acknowledge it yet. What a cruel twist of fate. I wish I’d known the moment I met her. I wish I’d realized that this feeling inside of me every time I look at her, this desperate want, wasn’t just a superficial attraction and something far, far deeper.
I can’t take back the way I treated her.
I’m almost asleep when the door to the healer’s cottage opens and shuts. I blink into the darkness as Aviva’s scent fills the room, broken by the acrid smell of a match being struck. She lights an oil lantern and walks over to me, sitting with a sigh at the foot of the bed.
I sit up, balancing on an elbow. The thin blanket slips over my bare chest as she turns to look at me.
“Aviva–”
“Before you say anything,” she whispers, swallowing against the bite in her voice. She takes another breath, closing her eyes for a moment before setting the lantern down on a table near the bed. “Before you say anything, I need to know why we didn’t know we were mates from the beginning. Did you know the whole time?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t think–”
“I couldn’t feel anything for you other than…” Other than I wanted her. I wanted her in my bed. I wanted to do unimaginable things to her. “Other than lust, honestly. Lust, and curiosity.”
She doesn’t seem surprised by this admission at all. “But something changed, didn’t it?”
I nod and sit up completely, leaning back against the headboard. She turns to me, sitting in an almost identical position. “I shouldn’t have been able to speak to you through the mind-link, during that hunt. When you fell, I felt everything… I felt the wind getting knocked out of you. I felt you being hunted by that Hellhound. I chalked it up to adrenaline.”
She holds my gaze, her eyes round and dark in the lantern light.
I look into her eyes, sighing. “Then we were hand-fasted. I thought it was some form of imprinting, and it is, isn’t it?”
She shrugs, then nods, unsure. “Anyway,” I continue, “That… want. It only grew. That pull–it was stronger, and I told myself it was because of that. Wanting to touch you, wanting to be near you, to be inside of you.” I hold her eyes as she scans my face, emotionless, still as a predator, “I told myself it was just my body reacting.”
“And you told me the same thing.”
“I did.”
“You couldn’t pick up my scent,” she says, her voice hoarse.
“No, I couldn’t. I asked around about it. Andrew could smell you. Jacob, Ryan… I was the only one who couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“I wish I knew.” I think of the white wolf again, of the feeling of my bond with Hadley snapping piece, by piece. I reach up and touch the bare skin over my heart. I feel both empty and full. Empty in a way I’ve never felt before and full in a way that makes my skin tingle with knowing. There’s something new taking up space I’d locked away and buried. A new bond. New strings being plucked every time Aviva’s own heart hammers in her chest only a few feet away.
“It’s because I saved you.”
I close my eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t feel it because she was still there. You hadn’t been able to let her go.”
“Aviva–”
“You think you’re so incapable of love,” her tone drops to something cold and deadly. “You–you shoved me away and made me believe that what I felt, what you knew I felt, was nothing. A byproduct of our hand-fasting.”
I finally meet her eyes again and find them full of tears.
“You still don’t want me.”
“It has nothing to do with wanting you,” I grind out, but she shakes her head.
“You don’t believe–you don’t believe you deserve this. So you refuse to have it.”
Bingo. “I killed someone,” I remind her. “I killed my own mate.”
“I don’t care.” The words ring out between us. She holds my gaze, unwavering. I can see the desperation behind her eyes. “I’ve never cared.”
“I care. I care that you’re stuck with me in an even deeper way now.”
She looks hurt, which guts me. I used to be able to just… lay it on thick. Tell a girl whatever she wanted to hear. Make her feel like she was the most desirable, beautiful thing in the world, but I’ve never been able to do that to Aviva. She makes me want to be honest, to be myself, to tell her exactly what I’m thinking even if it hurts her and show her parts of me no one else has ever known.
It’s because she sees right through my bullshit and always has, and I don’t think that has anything to do with the mate bond.
“So, what now?”
“You reject me,” I deadpan. She’s still as stone as she scans my face.
“I don’t want to.”
“I’d like you to.”
“Why not just reject me?”
I lick my lips. “I don’t want to.”
“Then we’re fucking mates,” she says with an arch of the brow.
“We’re fucking mates.”
“I guess.” She leans back to inspect me.
“Sure.” I cross my arms over my chest to stop from touching her.
She chews her lip. I flex my jaw.
The Goddess tethered the two most fucking stubborn people in Her kingdom together for Her sick, twisted entertainment, I’m sure.
Aviva stands up and dusts invisible dirt off her thighs. “Well, this isn’t what I anticipated, but I guess it’s nice to know that if I throw myself off a ledge tonight, you’ll feel it too.”
“Please–” I hold out a hand before I can stop myself. “Please don’t do that.”
“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.” Something breaks in her voice. I’m reminded instantly that Aviva’s hard as nails exterior is all for show. Deep down, she’s hurt. Hurt bad. And it’s my fault.
I swing my legs out of bed and grab her by the arm before she can turn for the door.
“Don’t,” she whispers, yanking her arm out of my grasp. “I know you don’t want this. I know you don’t like me, that you can’t–”
“You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” I admit, and it’s true. Nothing has ever been more out of reach than the one thing I know was made for me, and that’s her.
She takes a shallow breath and turns to me, her eyes glowing a soft amber in the dim light. “Then show me already.”