Chapter 73: A Fragile Truce Lucas POV

The cabin was silent, save for the crackling fire, which formed flickering shadows on the walls. When we were about to argue again, Anna would sit on the bed with her arms folded and her jaw clenched in that stubborn way. I tried to control my temper as I leaned against the doorframe and looked out into the gloomy woods.

She broke the quiet by saying, "You've been quiet all night." Although it wasn't accusing, her tone was anything but polite.

I mumbled, "Just tired," but it wasn't the truth.

Anna gave a snort. "All right. Because you're not the type to wait for things to blow up."

I narrowed my eyes and turned to her. "What is the intended meaning of that?"

"It means that you've been brooding since we got here, and it's making me nervous," she added as she climbed to her feet.

"Brooding?" I moved in closer, my anger rising to the surface. "Anna, I'm working to keep us alive. I apologize if I'm not in the mood for small talk right now."

Anger flashed in her eyes. "You think I'm unaware of that? You don't think I'm as afraid as you are?"

"Afraid?" Laden with incredulity, the word escaped my mouth before I could stop it. "Since the day we left Nightshade, you've been nothing but stubborn. You oppose me whenever I try to keep us safe."

“Maybe because I don’t trust you!” she yelled, raising her voice.

The words were like a blow, but I laughed sharply to cover the pain. "And who is to blame for that?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She gave off the impression that she was about to dispute it, but then she turned away, her shoulders hunching.

"Do you think this is how I want to feel?" Her voice was shaking as she asked softly. "Do you think I like to watch myself closely, wondering if the one person I'm stuck with will betray me like everyone else?"

My fury was somewhat subdued by her comments, replaced with remorse.

I started to say, "Anna," but she stopped me with a hand motion.

"Don't," she urged. "Just... don't."

The weight of her statement hung thick in the air as the room slipped into an uncomfortable stillness. I ran a hand through my hair as I sat on the table’s edge.

I said, "You're right," at last. "There is no reason for you to have faith in me."

Her eyes were cautious as she peered up. "What are you about?"

The words tasted harsh in my mouth as I breathed deeply. "Leo."

She tightened up, and I could tell she was focused on me.

"What about him?" Her question was hardly heard above a whisper.

My throat constricted as I admitted, "I should have stopped it. I knew something wasn't right when I saw him with that kid. However, I sounded the warning instead of assisting him. Anna, I let them take him. I allowed them to kill him."

Her silence was deafening, but her face was inscrutable.

I went on, "I told myself I was doing the right thing. That I was keeping the pack safe." However, I believe I knew he was innocent in my heart.

At her sides, Anna’s hands balled into fists. "Why are you just now telling me this?"

I answered in an angry voice, "Because you deserve to know the truth. And because... I can't continue to bear this shame by myself."

She laughed bitterly and sharply. "You think it's better to confess? You think that what you did is erased?"

"No," I answered, looking her in the eye. "But perhaps it's a beginning."

She moved restlessly as she paced the room. "You're amazing," she whispered.

"Anna—"

"No," she said, turning to look at me. "Lucas, you don't get to act like the victim here. It wasn't you who lost everything."

She said something that hurt, but I didn't argue. She was right.

I answered, "I'm not asking for your pardon. I'm requesting a chance to put things right."

She made a fake laugh. "And just how are you going to accomplish that?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "But I'll find a way."

For a long time, neither of us spoke. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its warmth doing little to thaw the chill between us.

Finally, Anna sank back onto the bed, her head in her hands.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, her voice muffled.

“Do what?”

“Trust you. Trust anyone.”

What shocked me was how vulnerable she was. I wanted to reassure her that everything would be okay, but I felt as though I was missing something.

I answered, "I don't blame you. For not having faith in me. I haven't really given you an excuse."

Her eyes were red-rimmed but bold as she gazed up. "Then give one to me."

I felt a resolve that I hadn't experienced in years when I heard the challenge in her words.

I boldly said, "I will. But it will take time."

Her face was unreadable as she nodded slowly. "Time," she repeated. "That is not something we have a lot of."

I said, more to myself than to her, "We'll make it work."

A small smile tugged at her lips for the first time that evening. "For someone who recently acknowledged that they are a mess, you're incredibly optimistic."

I laughed in spite of myself. "I suppose I have nothing to lose."

Her smile vanished and was replaced with a serious expression that was more painful than words could describe. "We both do."

The tense peace between us was like a thin thread that could break at any time. But it was fine for now.

I quietly vowed as I saw Anna withdraw to her side of the hut, her walls still securely in place.

I would do whatever it took to gain her trust.

Because there was no way I could lose it.

No chance of losing her either.