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CRUX

It was no secret that I have trouble relating to other people.

I don’t know if it’s the fucked up homelife I was raised in, or that people tend to turn away from the scent of grave-dirt that Mother Nature thought it oh so funny to saddle me with.

Whatever it was, I held precious few people in high regard, and when I did, I’d do anything for them, even if I tended to just act without explaining myself.

Fuck it, we were all on this wild unexplainable ride together.

I pulled the Jeep into a combo gas-station and convenience store and got out, probably the others expected me to get gas.

Instead, I walked into the store, and when I walked out, they were stunned to see a bouquet of flowers in my hand.

I didn’t know much about flowers, so I went the safe route and picked half a dozen white roses, tied together with a blue ribbon.

I reached in back and handed them unceremoniously to Skye.

“For me?” asked my adorable and stunning omega.

“No.” I pulled out of the gas station, and we drove in silence. Through the bond I could feel everyone’s confusion and rapt curiosity. It would all make sense very soon, but I could either act, or discuss. I couldn’t do both.

If I discussed, I’d second guess myself, lose my nerve and bury the idea that my instincts told me was a good one. If I acted, I had to concentrate, and couldn’t answer inane questions.

I was aware of Severen in the passenger seat, constantly casting glances at me from the corner of his eye, wondering exactly what I was on, while knowing full well that I wasn’t on anything.

“He gets like this sometimes,” Skye said in a light, breezy voice, covering for me, explaining my damage. Fuck it, if Rowan wanted to be pack, he’d have to accept my damage too, the way the rest of them managed to. Anyway, I was relatively sure he would appreciate what was on my mind.

From the back seat, Skye gasped, and a sense of understanding passed from her to me in the bond.

She had a hunch about what the plan was.

Even with the Jeep’s top down, and the salty sea air whipping all around us, Skye’s scent was as present as if she had a basket filled with freshly picked blueberries resting on her lap.

It made me love her that much more.

I pulled the Wrangler into the parking lot and everyone got out of the car. I shoved my hands in my pockets as we walked up to the gate of Ashgrove Memorial Cemetery. Rowan walked slower than the rest of us and I fell back in line with him.

“Well,” I said quietly. “Lead the way.”