My smile stretches impossibly wide when the car pulls up in front of the house. Jeremy is standing just behind me, watching as well, waiting for the back door to open. I squint and lean forward, trying to see through the tinted glass windows. My feet tap restlessly against the ground, and the driver gets out. He walks over and opens the door for her. When she steps out, I lose all sense of patience and run to her. Lindsey laughs as I engulf her in my arms.
"I missed you!" I shout. "I can't believe it—you're actually here. I didn't think you could leave him."
She chuckles and hugs me back. "How could I say no? I'm dying to see what your new life is like."
"It's different," I tell her as I pull back. "Ugh—we have so much to talk about."
When I enter the bedroom, David is already sitting on the edge of the bed, on his side. He looks up as I continue to the opposite side. These past few nights, we've formed a routine of sorts. I get ready in my room and come over to the master where David will be waiting for me. I get in bed, he turns off the lights and settles down as well. We talk for a little before I eventually fall asleep, not remembering where the conversation ended. This night feels different, however. Lindsey is tucked away in her private guest house; I thought she would enjoy the extra space and seclusion. So as usual, we are utterly alone. Maybe it was the children then—the talk of motherhood that's throwing me off. Something pulls in my gut as I lay down, and when he shuts off the light, the feeling worsens. David lowers down and I turn to face him. He lays
"Lindsey? When did you and Timothy, you know, go all the way? Like, how long did you wait?" She looks up from her plate and says, "How long? I don't know, maybe around two weeks." "Two weeks? Really?" "It's not like I'm unsure about my feelings for him. The mate bond is for life—there won't be anyone else. Why wait when you're with your soulmate?" I poke around at the breakfast Helena sent. It arrived just as I did, so Lindsey and I decided to eat together at her guest house. The windows are open and a near-summer breeze passes through, blowing softly against my skin before drifting throughout the rooms. She has everything bright and open and the morning has never felt more welcomed.
The sound of the door has me up on my feet like a dog. Lindsey and Helena watch as I hurry to the archway and peer into the hall. David is at the end in the foyer, closing and locking the door behind him. He's home earlier than usual, and I couldn't have hoped for more. "David," I breathe and rush over, "what happened with the man? He's dead, isn't he? Do you know why she did it?" "How do you know about that?" He asks, taken-back. "Lindsey and I were there." "Why were you there? Were you looking for the scene?" He questions. "No, we weren't. We were just walking to the gardens, and we saw it happen. W-We left right after and ran back home."
"You're going to be dressing for cold weather. I picked up some sophisticated basics but—" "Are you saying my wardrobe lacks sophistication?" I ask Jeremy and turn from the closet with a pair of ripped jeans in my hands. He says, "You can bring jeans, but ones with all of the fabric intact." I switch the grungy denim for pants that better reflect the sort oflookhe's describing. We both move back and forth in my spare room from the closet to my suitcases. He insisted that I would need two suitcases—despite my disbelief—and as it's turning out, from the look of the dresses and outfits and pajamas and other bits, he's right, as usual. Lindsey headed back home a few days ago, but I had little time to mourn her abs
Part 2 I think I fell in love with the idea of running away when my grandfather was dying and we traveled to see him. All of it was so exciting; the airport, the commotion, the flight. The moment the plane pushed from the ground and that strange floating feeling spiked in my gut, I was hooked. My eyes never left the window. My father was apprehensive about the whole thing, but he wouldn't dare keep my mother from saying one last goodbye to her father. While he was quiet and reserved the entire time, I knew being around humans and pretending to be one of them wasn't his style. Like David, he is prideful in what he is, who he is, and the traditions he so passionately keeps alive. It's our culture, our sense of self, and he liked these distinctions between us and them. Humans were so painfully singular—selfish, h
I lay on the grand bed as I hear the water turn on in the bathroom. David is taking a shower, so I try to busy myself. All of my dresses and other clothes that must be hung up—as Jeremy instilled in my head and left on a note in one of the suitcases—have been hung up, and all of my dinner has been eaten. I roll onto my stomach and stare at the door. My eyes shift between the bedroom doors and the bathroom door. Surely this place is safe or else David wouldn't have brought me here, so I step into my shoes and slip out of the suite like Alice adventuring into Wonderland. I walk down the large hall, looking into the beyond as the space seems to open up. There is only one other pair of doors until the branch of the hall is connected to the body of the building; a vast space with elegant, stone stairs whose railings are carved and detailed
I take my pajamas into the bathroom to change and prepare for bed. After I do so, I notice a crack in the door. I position myself so my eye sees right through it, right at the bed where David is sitting against the tufted headboard, reading something on his laptop. The artificial light of the screen glows on his skin, and I hold my breath, leaning closer into the sliver of space, seeing he is bare from the waist up. My eyes widen and my brows tug together. When he mindlessly glances at the bathroom door, I spring away and make no sudden movements. I look at myself in the mirror, reconsidering my decision to wear a snug-fitting shirt with a thinner fabric. If he sleeps like that—which I'm assuming he is—then when he holds me—which he always does—I'll almost feel his bare skin. This stupid shirt will be the only barrier between our skin. It's not just our hands touching; it's plains of bo
"What are you suggesting?" An Alpha projects from the back. I glance over my shoulder and see the man standing with his hands on the desk—his eyes aimed directly at Nicodra. "I am suggesting we slow our conformity into human society before we lose our sense of self," Nicodra dramatizes. "Because it is quite obvious that we are not humans. Our ancestors embraced the heritage we are so quickly sacrificing—I think it's best we start doing the same." David speaks, surprising me. "There are many factors that are at risk of being overlooked. Packs are larger, and our people desire modern luxuries that ourancestorswere unable to utilize. Structuring pack land as humans structure their towns has proven to be beneficial for everyone. There is no need to spend the majority of our time shifted and hunting, not to mention the