Page 11

Yelena

The forest floor is soft and littered with pine needles.

It’s comforting in its predictability. I’m grateful that I had at least remembered to carry clothing with me this time when I shifted, but the T-shirt I pulled over my head is Austin’s.

I wish I would have had the sense to grab a pair of sweatpants, too.

It’s a brisk Fall morning, and the breeze is chilly in the forest.

His scent covers me, causing a spiky twinge of pain in my chest. I trip over a tree root and fall, landing face-first on the forest floor.

The taste of dirt and bark fills my mouth.

It’s bitter, a stark reminder of my current reality.

I don’t know if I want to scream, cry, or simply lay there and become part of the forest for a while.

After a long minute, I push myself back up with a sigh, brushing the dirt off my face. At least out here, I’m alone and no one can judge me for being a mess.

I crawl over to lean up against a nearby towering pine tree and shiver. Austin’s t-shirt is too big, hanging down almost to my knees. The fabric is soft against my skin, yet another reminder of how it felt to be held by him last night.

When I woke up this morning, I was so excited.

Waking up in Austin’s bed, with a new ache between my thighs, it felt like the start of something new between us.

A solution to the tension that always seems to be between us.

I went out to the kitchen to find him with a hopeful heart and dreams of perhaps sharing conversation at breakfast before convincing him to stay home this morning so we could explore each other again.

“You should have stayed in bed,” I mutter to myself.

How could I have known, though?

Last night, I thought we had truly connected as mates. What had started as a confrontation and another evening managing our strained relationship had morphed into something beyond my wildest expectations.

Affection. Care. Passion.

I took a risk, and I let him in. I shared with him, not only my body, but a part of my soul.

If he didn’t want that, didn’t want me , so why did he hold me with such tenderness last night? How could he have faked kissing me with such passion?

A sob threatens to rip through me when I remember the way he held me as I shattered around him, my pleasure drenching us both.

For one beautiful moment, I thought he had finally chosen me. I think that’s why this hurts so much.

I take a shuddering breath. His scent from the shirt, mixed with that of pine, damp earth, and the tell-tale markers of our pack boundary lines, invades my nose.

At least I’m still on Nightwing land.

When I took off running this morning, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I just needed to escape. To outrun the words I had heard him scream at his mother. I needed my wolf to save me, and she did.

I don’t want to marry Yelena. I won’t do it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out. But I can’t. His voice is all I can hear. Even my wolf feels despondent.

How can he feel this way when we were paired by the Moon Goddess Herself? It doesn’t make sense.

Our lore tells us that Fated Mates are destined to be together. Their souls are intertwined. Even if they are perfect strangers, destined mates are supposed to grow together because their compatibility and affection for each other has already been assured by fate.

It goes against logic that Austin can continuously push me away like this. Could the Moon Goddess have made a mistake? Was the Seer wrong when she prophesied that we were a destined pair?

I lean against the tree trunk and stare up at the scattered rays of sunlight that filter through the thick canopy above.

Maybe Austin and I were doomed from the start. I sigh heavily and brush a tear from my cheek.

As much as I love him, I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being an afterthought or a burden, just waiting for him to notice me.

I want a mate who is excited to be with me, who takes an interest in my life, and who loves making me smile.

Someone who is proud to have me as their partner.

I want what our traditions have told us: partners who are devoted to each other.

If Austin can’t be that, or won’t, it stands to reason that perhaps he isn’t my true Fated Mate and I shouldn’t be with him at all.

But the mere idea of not being with Austin makes another jolt of pain flare in my chest. Yet, it seems to be the only way out of this heart-wrenching spiral. If we aren’t true mates, shouldn’t we break this engagement so that we are free to find our real ones?

More tears fall down my cheek and I don’t bother wiping them.

Or maybe Fated Mates don’t exist at all . My subconscious whispers. Maybe you should grow up and stop believing in fairy tales.

A harsh laugh tears itself from my throat. There’s an echo of bitter truth in that thought. It feels sacrilegious to even consider that all I've been taught, all I've hoped for, is truly nothing more than a fantasy masked in tradition.

The sting of betrayal by my own naive belief cuts deeper than any wound Austin's words could have inflicted. My mind races, and disbelief lingers like an uninvited guest refusing to leave.

The notion that two people could be destined for each other, fated to meet, fall in love, grow together and stand by each other for the remainder of their days. A beautiful dream. But I have been wishing and hoping for so long now. Too long.

And what do I have to show for it? Nothing but heartbreak and rejection.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sudden snapping of twigs nearby. My head snaps and I hold my breath, trying to ignore the pounding heartbeat in my ears.

“Austin?” I call out, my voice trembling.

“No.”

The response is not the one I was expecting, but relief floods through me at the familiar voice.

“Dad.”

Fresh tears start when he comes into view, his silver hair glinting in the sunlight that filters through the trees.

"You’re far from home," he says softly. His eyes are concerned as they study me, taking in my tear-streaked face and Austin's oversized T-shirt.

I sniffle and wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. "Why are you here?"

"I thought you might need me," he admits, settling down beside me against the tree trunk. "Your Luna called and informed me about what happened with Austin. I left the city at once and came to find you."

I say nothing for a moment, just taking in the sight of him. I can’t believe he’s here. We rarely get to see each other because of the distance.

"Austin doesn't want me," I blurt out finally, unable to stop the fresh wave of tears that come with those words. “And I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks at me, his hazel eyes filled with compassion. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. His presence alone is comforting enough. I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder, and weep.

“Oh, Yelena.” He wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer.

"I don't understand why," I sob into his shoulder. My words are barely audible, muffled by his shirt. "The Moon Goddess chose him for me. That’s what everyone said. That’s what I believed. I’ve tried to be what he needs. I thought Fated Mates were supposed to...to want each other."

"They are," he says quietly, "but life isn’t simple, and neither is fate."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"In our world," he begins slowly, choosing his words with care, "we believe in the power of Fate, that people and events are predetermined by the Moon Goddess. But there's something we often forget: free will."

I pull back to stare at him. My chest feels like it might crack open from the weight of my heartbreak.

"Even if two souls are bound by destiny, they still have the freedom to make their own choices, tread their own paths. The Moon Goddess may show us the path but walking it...that's up to us. You have to choose to accept your Fate. You have, but Austin has not."

His voice is gentle, yet firm and he traces soothing circles on my back.

"But what am I supposed to do, then?" I cry out. "I've been ready. I've been waiting. I've held on even when it hurts…I chose him! Over and over, I chose us, yet he doesn’t choose me."

"I just..." I choke on my words for a second before continuing. "I just wanted us to be happy."

"And you still can be," he says gently, wiping my tears away with his thumb. “But maybe it’s time to consider that your happiness doesn’t necessarily have to include Austin. Whatever you choose to do, sweetheart, I will support you.”

Painful as it may be, I know there’s wisdom in his words.

My stomach growls and I squirm, uncomfortably. I have no idea what time it is, but judging from the sun in the sky, it’s been several hours since I left home. I’m hungry and emotionally wrecked.

“I should get back,” I murmur. He stands, pulling me to my feet and into a tight hug. I lean into him, taking the support he has given me.

“Thanks for coming to find me, Dad,” I whisper against his chest.

“I’ll always come find you, darling girl,” he whispers back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Do you want me to run back with you?” he asks when we finally break apart. I sniffle and shake my head no.

“I need the space to gather my thoughts,” I tell him with a wobbly smile.

He nods and then steps back into the woods, shifting into his tawny wolf easily. I watch as he trots off into the woods and disappears from view.

With a deep, centering breath, I also shift, this time allowing my wolf form to rip Austin’s shirt off my body.

The ripped shirt stays on the forest floor as I begin the long run back home.

It’s late afternoon by the time I emerge from the clearing and see the familiar pack buildings appear. I approach our cottage cautiously. Sniffing the air, I am relieved to find that Alpha Malaki and Luna Elizabeth are no longer in the area, but Austin’s scent is still very strong.

Shit.

I step up onto our porch and the door swings open before I can shift back to my human form. Austin stands in the doorway, his face pinched with worry.

Wordlessly, he stands aside to allow me to enter. I slip past him, shifting back as soon as I’m in the living room.

“Yelena,” he begins, knotting his hands at his side. “What I said earlier. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings.” Is he delusional? How could he think it would do anything but hurt my feelings?!

I stare at him, but he doesn’t say anything else and suddenly, I feel more tired than I’ve ever felt before.

All the words and reprimands that I had practiced in my head on my run back to the cottage are gone now, leaving only intense emotional exhaustion in their place.

I shake my head and turn to leave. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to hear excuses, I don’t even want to talk.

The only thing I truly want at this moment is food and a shower. I don’t need Austin for that.

“Yelena, say something,” he pleads.

But I just turn and walk toward my room. There’s nothing left for me to say. At least not tonight.