Elena

I wake with a groan as the sunlight streaming through the window steals into my peaceful oblivion. Last night’s little jumping off a bridge without a net adventure hadn’t ended well and this morning, everything hurts. It would be a shitty way to start my eighteenth birthday, if I did birthdays. Which I didn’t.

Gingerly scooting out of bed, I stumble into the bathroom to assess the damage. Lifting the t-shirt I somehow managed to pull on before I passed out last night, I press a hand over the bruise blooming across my ribs and hiss as a stabbing pain shoots through my torso. Yep, those are broken. Not that it would stop me from doing something equally reckless again tonight.

My ribs scream at me as I reach for the shower door. On second thought, maybe they need at least one day to heal before I find a new way to injure myself. I can find a less pain-inducing way to spend my time for one night.

I hate that this is my life, constantly chasing the next adrenaline high to numb my pain. But I hate thinking about Mason Cross even more. And I hate that my birthday is the one day every year I can’t keep the memories at bay.

Stepping into the shower, I let the scalding hot water run over me and squeeze my eyes shut tight against the scene that forces its way into my mind. It’s no use, though. The memories of that day hit me like a speeding train and I am helpless to get out of the way.

***** Flashback *****

“Mace! You’re here!” I shriek, finding him leaning in the doorway of my room watching me with a speculative look on his face.

“Of course I'm here! I wouldn’t miss the chance to wish you happy birthday!” He chuckles, picking me up in a bear hug and swinging me around.

He sets me on my feet and looks down at me with that cheeky grin I love. He’s been my source of peace, my protector since the day I was born. There is nothing romantic between us but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t developed a bit of a crush on him. Even my barely teen-aged heart isn’t immune to his handsome face and the way he growls protectively if anyone dares to look at me wrong.

He treats me like I’m precious, like he feels honored to spend time with me. Even though he’s older and has plenty of girls practically swooning over him, he never seems to notice them and he never treats me like a burden. We share our own kind of love, like our souls recognize their other half. What young girl’s heart wouldn’t flutter over a guy like that?

But today something is missing. There is no sparkle in his startlingly blue eyes.

“Why were you late?” I cock my head and narrow my eyes, intent on catching every nuance of his response. He’s hiding something from me.

“I’m sorry, little one. I had something come up I had to take care of.” He answers evasively.

“Mason, what's going on? And don’t lie to me! I always know when you’re lying.” I cross my arms, more to prevent me from pulling my hair out but if I look like I mean business, all the better..

“You’ve always been a little too perceptive for your own good, haven’t you Elena?” He smiles ruefully, shaking his head. “Goddess help the man who ends up mated to you. He’ll never get away with anything.”

That’s when I know something is terribly wrong. He never refers to me as Elena, not since the day I was born. I’m either “little one” or “Ellie” but never Elena. Something is very, very wrong.

“Tell me now, Mace! You’re scaring me.” I demand, but my trembling lower lip ruins the effect.

“Hey, hey! None of that!” He soothes, holding me to his chest with his big hand against the back of my head. “You have nothing to be scared of. You’re strong. You can face anything. Do you hear me?”

“Mmhm.” I nod my head against his hard pec, trying not to sniffle.

“Good girl.” The corners of my lips turn up slightly at his praise. “Come sit with me.”

He walks me over to my bed and sits with me on the edge of it. His huge hands clasp both of mine between them and squeeze them tight, as if he’s holding on for dear life. I force myself to lift my chin, meeting his gaze and the pain reflected in the oceanic depth makes me gasp.

“I’m leaving tonight for Sacred Moon, Ells.” His tone is hard, a warning not to try and change his mind.

“I mean, that sucks but we’ll get through it. We’ve been apart before.” I blow out a relieved breath. “You’ll at least stay for the party, right? How long will you be gone?”

“Ellie, little one,” His voice cracks on my name, his hands tightening around mine to the point of pain. “I’m leaving right away and I’m not coming back. I’m moving to my grandfather’s pack for my Alpha training.”

“That’s not funny, Mason!” I snap, trying to extricate my hands from his iron grasp but he refuses to let me go. “You can’t say things like that to me!”

My chest burns as I fight for air, unable to take my next breath. I need him to tell me this is all a terrible joke, to see the hysteria building in me and put me out of my misery before it explodes into full-blown mania.

“We’ve talked about this, Ellie. We both knew this was coming. I was always going to have to go. My grandfather is tired. He’s already held the role longer than most and he deserves to retire and rest.” He tries rationalizing with me.

“But you said we’d go together when I was older! You know you did!” I shout at him, reminding him of his promise.

“I know.” He intones softly, wincing at my accusation. “But it was a dream and we both know it. You may be young but you’ve never been naive, Elena. You have five years before you come of age and I can’t wait that long.”

“You mean you won’t wait that long!” I bite out, hating the way his tone had hardened, hating that we were having this conversation at all.

“Alright then, I won’t wait that long. I’m almost eighteen years old. It’s time for me to grow up. I have adult responsibilities and can’t be held back by your childish need for me to hold your hand anymore.” He remarks callously.

“Don’t!” I croak through my tears. “Don’t do that! Don’t be a coward by belittling me. You’ve never used my age against me before so don’t start now. I know you don’t mean that so at least respect me enough to tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth. You’re still a little girl and I’m a man. I see it now, what your parents were trying to tell us these past two years. It was always going to end this way. I should have listened sooner.” His brusque tone is like a knife to my heart.

He is lying! He had to be lying! Why is he saying these awful things to me? I want to shake him until he tells me the truth but when I look into his eyes, I know it’s no use. His gaze is cold, dead, like he’s staring right through me, not seeing me at all.

“I hate you, Mason Cross! I hate you, do you hear me?!” I pound on his chest as I sob the words.

***** End Flashback *****

A shudder ripples through me as the scene fades. The water had run cold but it’s the memory of that day that leaves me shivering. He’d taken a soul-deep bond we’d shared since my birth and tossed it away like trash. Not to mention what he’d done to my heart.

Shaking away the remnants of that waking nightmare, I turn off the freezing water and step out of the shower only to be accosted by my mother.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” My mom sing-songs, waltzing into my room uninvited just as I reach for my towel. “Oh Goddess, Ellie! What happened to you?”

“I’m fine, mom. Why are you in my room and what have I told you about mentioning what day it is?” I wrap the towel around my body and quickly change the subject from my shattered bones to her blatant disregard of my privacy and my sanity.

“Oh sweetheart,” She sighs, lifting up the shirt I’d just tugged on to examine the damage. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“You know why!” I grit out, not wanting anything to do with the conversation.

It’s been five years. Five long, miserable fucking years, and my parents still don’t get it. No matter how many times I try to explain the gaping hole he left behind, or my unquenchable need to fill it with something, anything that takes my mind off the vicious, clawing torment of his absence, they still ask me the same damn question.

Chasing the adrenaline high is the only thing that keeps me sane, or a little less insane as the case may be. The only trouble with being an adrenaline junky is you need more and more danger to keep it flowing. Thus the frequent injuries.

“Ellie, it’s been so long. I thought you would have gotten past all this by now.” Mom laments.

“Well you thought wrong! And don’t call me that!” I shout, making her flinch at my hateful tone. I can’t bear the nickname. Not any more. “I’m going to Livvy’s. Don’t wait up for me!”

I stuff my legs into my yoga pants and slip my feet into my sneakers. Livvy will have something I could wear out tonight. I just need to get out of this house. Olivia Cross might be his sister, but she is still my best friend. Oddly enough, the connection doesn’t trigger me the way I thought it would. And she is respectful enough not to force conversations she knows would cause me pain.

“Elena, wait.” Mom calls just as I am grabbing my purse and heading for the door. I stop but don’t turn to face her. “We were hoping to run together after the party.

“You might shift too, you know. I’ve heard of some wolves not shifting until they turn eighteen. But even if you don’t, both your dads would love for their pup to ride on their backs. Kaden would want you there too.”

“You’ll be there. He won’t miss me. Tell him I said happy birthday and like I said, don’t wait up.”

A small twinge of guilt pricks at me for skipping out on my twin but I can’t bring myself to watch him shift when I still can’t. Most wolves shift at sixteen, but even two years later I haven’t experienced any of the tell-tale signs of an impending shift, not the slightest indication my wolf will come out tonight or any time soon.

I can’t stand to see the disappointment, or worse, the pity on their faces when they realize it’s just one more way I’m defective, broken. Kaden will understand. I’ll just have to find other ways to torture myself.

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