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Chapter 8

Paul couldn’t believe his bad luck. He thought he’d been doing so well over the last week, avoiding her as much as he could. He’d never used his calming mantras so much, but they helped. He’d almost convinced himself he could live near her, that it would all be okay if he just kept his distance for a while.

Then he’d seen her step out of the car, so close, her beautiful eyes on him, and everything went to shit again.

She wasn’t supposed to like him, so why was she seeking him out? And she was seeking him out. She’d looked for him the moment she’d got out of the car. And he’d heard that she’d asked after him at the various pack functions and meetings he’d avoided for fear of seeing her.

Hell. He thought having Mariella come down here to spend some time together would fix things. He did like the witch after all—she was kind and talented and very pretty, and she deserved some effort on his part to get to know her better, to allow her to get to know him better, before they made the decision that would bind them for life. But rather than create a distraction, for some reason, her presence seemed to be making everything so much worse.

He didn’t want Mariella. The only woman he wanted—had ever wanted—was standing beside the spring down the hill, her green one-piece hugging her curves in a way that made him shift uncomfortably where he sat. He had done everything he could throughout the morning to keep away from her. But every time he and Mariella moved to another spring, Ivy had soon followed. And despite the fact she was talking and laughing with the others in the group, he couldn’t help but feel she was watching him. As was Siobhan and Chloe. They masked it well, not talking to him more than they did with the others in the group, but given he’d bound Ivy to a fate where she hated him and avoided him at all costs—which meant Siobhan treated him and his friends with dislike in support of her friend—it was strange that they were suddenly so keen to talk to him and be in his sphere as if they were friends.

Had she remembered something?

No. That wasn’t possible. He’d done his job too well.

Then why the sudden and unnerving interest in him?

Her laughter lit the air with the brightness of the sun on a summer’s day. She seemed to be enjoying herself—and yet, there was something wrong. He could feel it deep inside where the torn and aching threads of the mating bond were. She should be untouched by what he’d done because if she couldn’t remember they were mates, then how could she be affected by the loss of it? Yet, she was weaker than she’d been. The light inside her dimmed. She put up a good front, but he could sense it. And he knew that if he looked, he’d see the effects of it on her aura.

Did Abby know? Iris? They must. They would have looked at her aura and seen that there was something wrong. Something missing.

She laughed again, and despite the bright joy in the sound, he heard an echo of sadness.

Had he caused that? Had he done something wrong when he’d changed their fate? Arianrhod had said there were consequences for messing with the Fates. He’d thought he would be the only one punished because he was the one who had cut and rewound the threads. Remembering Ivy as he did, the fact that they were mates, that she had loved him and that for a moment, she had been completely his, was the fiercest joy cut with the bitterness of deep welling grief. But he could deal with his suffering as long as she was untouched, as long as she was safe from the fate meant to be hers.

But he couldn’t handle it if she was made to suffer too.

What had gone wrong? He had to figure it out and right it. Ivy deserved to live a happy life, not one tinged by some unknown sadness. He would have to look into her future—something he hated doing. Inviting the visions never made them easier to bear, so he rarely did it. But to protect Ivy, he would do anything.

‘Paul?’

He jerked at the touch on his arm and turned to see Mariella looking at him. The frustration in her eyes told him she’d been trying to get his attention for a while. ‘I’m sorry. My thoughts were wandering.’

‘So I can see.’ Her gaze flickered to Ivy then back to him. ‘She’s quite lovely.’

‘Yes.’ He wanted to call the word back as soon as he’d said it. ‘I mean, I suppose she is. She’s Stellan’s little sister. I’ve never really looked at her that way.’

‘Really?’ The word was drawn out, full of nuance he didn’t want to look at too hard.

‘Yep. Umm, do you want to move to another spring? This one’s quite warm and we shouldn’t sit in it for too long.’

‘Sure.’

She let him help her up and lead her to the cooler spring up the hill, just out of sight of where the others were congregated. He slipped into the water with a sigh, enjoying the slight effervescence of the mineralised water.

‘This one’s smellier than the others.’

‘It’s got minerals in it the others don’t have. That’s why it feels bubbly against your skin.’

‘Interesting.’

Silence fell and he became super conscious of the fact they were truly alone for the first time since arriving. He should move to sit next to her. It would be the easiest thing to slip his arm behind her neck, to feel the side of her body flush up against his. He should want it.

He stayed where he was.

He should chat with her, ask her questions about her life, her training, her likes and dislikes.

He put his head back on the edge of the pool, closed his eyes and wished himself far away.