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Chapter 52
Lyde and I sit together in the back seat of the SUV that picked us up from the airport. The sun is setting, and I am entirely exhausted, but my excitement to see David keeps me awake.
Bonny flew home to Argentina from Germany, so without Jeremy, it is only the two of us returning. The decision to leave without Jeremy was out of my hands, but my guilt lingers and sours in my stomach. He left us, yet I feel the opposite. David is still unaware of everything—especially regarding Maybe Baby—but any moment now I'll be free to tell him each and every detail. We're nearing our territory, only ten or so minutes away.
"Lyde," I say, looking from the window, "I just want to thank you for coming with me."
Her eyes open and shift to me before closing again. She adjusts in her seat. "Of course,
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The sweet smell of cooking blackberries wafts in my face as I stir the fruit over the stove to make jam. Helena places the proofed dough loaf in the oven, and we function seamlessly, chatting through our work. "Do you think they will like jam? I hope they aren't picky." "Children are picky, but they will grow out of it. You know, my daughter was a very picky eater at first, so I would eat the food she feared and act as if it was the most wondrous tasting thing. She would see my reaction and immediately want to taste it. Most of the time, she would act the same way—smiling and sayingyum-my. She was a precious little thing." "I can't wait," I say. Helena comes to my side. "Here, dear. Let me take over. Sit down for a bit, won't you?"
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"Do you have the agreement?" "I got it," David says. I look from my reflection in the mirror over the dresser to see the folder clamped in his hand, hanging at his side. It seems like just the other day that I attended my first Union meeting here, but I don't mind the travel. Besides, the heavy snow outside reminds me of the winters at my old pack, minus the mountains, of course. David scans my body as if something will suddenly be out of place. I turn to him with my hands holding the underside of my rounded belly. "I know," I tell him, "I'm getting big." He approaches with gentle eyes and spreads his palm to feel my belly with a cautious touch. "Twenty-two weeks today—over halfway there." "Do you think you can make it?"
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Part 1I'm from a lost place. A place that seems to be nothing more than a small mountain town, nestled in the forest and kept from the world. People don't come around here, and that's how we like it. We are free to be ourselves that way.I grew up in the trees. We have our houses and stores and parks and other things that humans have grown accustomed to, but we spend most of our time outside, in the breeze and under the stars. That's one thing I'll regret leaving behind—the magic of the mountain night sky. My mother says that in the cities you can't see a thing, only darkness.But sometimes even the mountain night sky doesn't show enough. I want to see everything. Every star and planet and galaxy—everything that may or may not be—but I had to give up
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"Brigette! We have to go!" I stumble around my bedroom, grabbing my shoes and throwing on a sweater, shrugging it over my exposed shoulders. Thesimple, yet elegantdress my mother picked out for me squeezes my waist as I bend over to secure each shoe on my bare feet. I hate it—every second in these clothes. "Brigette!" "I'm coming!" I call back and hurry down the hall. My hands hold the tough fabric in place as I rush down the steps. My mother is standing at the bottom, and she turns to me with careful eyes. She scans over every inch of my being to assure I haven't stepped into the wrong shoes or grabbed the grey cardigan instead of the black one. But once she's sure I've followed her instructions, she says, "A
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The Alpha steps toward me, and without a thought, I step back. A breath leaves his lips, his chest sinking with impatience. I stand as stiff as a board. "I thought maybe it was the audience making you, well, uncomfortable," he says. "You'll have to tell me what it is because I'm out of guesses." I watch him as a nervous look overcomes my face. My lips part only slightly for the slightest words, but not even those come out. The Alpha takes a few steps closer, and I feel the desk hit my backside. He pauses. "Don't—don't do that," I breathe, scolding his body for doing what it is wired to do. "Come near you?" He questions, not taking me seriously. "Yes."
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One of the Alpha's men knocks on the door of one of the few guest houses as I stand behind him with my bag of things my mother threw together. I stare at the ground between my feet, thinking over the conversation I had with my parents after dinner. All I had to say was "the Alpha is my mate," for my mother to nearly enter cardiac arrest. And as usual, my father didn't say much. I sat on my bed as my mother packed some things to stay the night. I'm sure I would have been arguing with her, but my mind was consumed by everything-it still is. There were a couple things I could focus on as she rummaged through my drawers and bathroom: the Alpha is my mate, he's going to make me leave, and I have to escape-somehow. The door of the guest house opens. I look up and sigh. The Alpha dismisses my handler and brings me inside. I've never
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I set the table as my mother finishes up dinner. She chats on and on about the things I've packed—clothes, necessities, and other small belongings—as I set out plates and cutlery. Dad is sitting at the end of the table reading some papers, for once home on time for dinner. Of course, it has to be my last dinner. "Oh, set out five plates, Brigie," my mother calls. "I invited Lindsey. I thought you would want to spend some time with her before you leave tomorrow. You have plenty to catch her up on." "Like how I'm leaving the pack? She'll love that," I say to myself. My dad peers up from his papers and sighs. "I know this is a big change, but it will be good for you," he says. "A new scenery and new people might be nice." "It will be very nice," mom adds.
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A knock strikes my door before the sun has risen. I turn in bed and squeeze my pillow against my chest. The darkness outside of my windows tells me it's far too early to function. I hardly got enough sleep considering the emotional toll that's been dragging me through the mud for longer than I would like. I'm supposed to be long gone by now. Another knock comes. This time he asks, "Are you awake?" If I refuse to answer, will he think I'm dead? I turn back over and hike the covers up to my shoulders. After a minute of silence, the door slowly opens behind me. I bite my lip and close my eyes as I feel his gaze settle on me. "Brigette," he says, "we have to go." I hold my breath. "
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