SEVEREN
Skyehadthebrilliantidea to take Crux and Halo down to the beach so that I could talk to Rowan one on one, man to man, alpha to alpha. I’m sure he felt ambushed as he walked through the door to find me sitting at the dining room table, staring squarely in his direction.
He slowly shut the front door and let out a breath.
“So,” he said. “It’s finally time for us to hash this out.”
“There’s fresh coffee in the pot,” I offered. “Or whatever you want. Soda. Beer.”
Rowan took the harness off his dog, who settled under the table with a thud and a sigh, completely untroubled by my presence or on alert on behalf of his master. Seems the dog already adopted me as pack. Rowan poured himself a blackcoffee, then joined me at the table, sitting in the chair across from me.
“Do you love her?” I asked, point blank. “Or are you just projecting feelings you think you have because she has your omega’s heart?”
“She’s not Indigo,” Rowan shook his head. “I know that.”
“Why do you love her, then?”
“Crux asked me the same question.”
This didn’t surprise me. Crux was a whole different level of reactive and protective. “And what did you tell him?”
“I told him that the pain goes away when Skye is around.” He studied me over the coffee cup, gazing through the rising veil of steam. “I think you need a different answer than he did,” Rowan said. “She’s kind, and brave, and has good taste in movies. She isn’t vain or shallow. She has more compassion than anyone I’ve ever met, including Indigo.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, black as jet. “Part of me thinks maybe Indigo sent Skye to me. Maybe even sent all of you to me.”
I didn’t react. I found the idea ridiculous but didn’t want to insult the memory of the dead, or whatever little private jokes or connections they had in their relationship.
We sat in silence for a while as I ruminated on my words. Rowan sat and sipped his coffee, careful not to slurp or swallow too hard, like it would set off the violent alpha in me, one that barely existed and never rose to the surface. I had never been that kind of alpha. I was the strong type, steadfast. Or at least I thought I was. These last few months, though, made me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself.
“Please say something,” Rowan said, finally shattering the uncompanionable silence.
Lifting my coffee mug, I took a long drink, my eyes still steely and focused on him. I sat my mug down, and gave him more silence as I slotted the words into an acceptable order.
“When I look at you,” I began. “I see a symbol of all the ways I failed her. How I allowed her to get hurt.”
Rowan’s brows twisted in confusion, but he didn’t ask questions or interrupt me. He just listened and allowed me to speak.
“All my alpha strength and control, and I couldn’t save her when she needed me the most. I had become incompetent, useless, and powerless. Then, out of… I don’t know, fear, maybe, I abandoned her. And then as a final insult, I was the one who caused her to run away. Directly into your arms.”
Rowan shook his head. “No. The only one who failed anybody was me.”
“You?” I asked. “You saved her life.”
“Indigo saved her life,” Rowan countered. “I didn’t do anything. I…” He lifted his arm and ran his sleeve across his nose. “I… We were… I was driving my motorcycle. She was holding on behind me. I lost control…I was thrown from the bike, skid down the pavement. But Indigo…” He blinked, forcing away the tears that gathered in his deep blue eyes. “The bike flipped and she landed wrong.” He sniffled and looked away. “I didn’t doanything. Someone else even called the ambulance. Not me.“ He wiped his eyes with a harsh press of the heel of his palm. “Sorry.”
“My point,” Rowan continued after he had regained his composure. “Is that I think Indigo forgives me. That’s what I meant when I said maybe she had a hand in bringing me to Skye. And I know, without a doubt, that Skye doesn’t blame you for anything. And she forgives anything you still think you’ve done wrong. The only thing holding us back is our pain. You and I, we need to forgive ourselves.”
Once Rowan’s speech died down, the silence echoed in the cozy kitchen space.
“How long have you been rehearsing that?” I asked.
Rowan sighed. “Okay, plan B.”
He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his jeans pocket and tossed it across the table.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking up the page. “A ransom letter? I do what you say or I’ll never see Skye again?”
“I read your book,” Rowan said.
“Oh, hell.” Artistic pride mixed with the bitter sting of failure, and sent prickles up the back of my neck. I wanted to ask what he thought. I wanted to ramble on and on about the characters and plot and pacing. I also wanted every last copy flung into the sea and forgot that they ever happened.
