Something a lot like love.
“What’s going on with you two?” Phina asks, lowering her voice like she doesn’t want the cryptids up here to hear us.
I bite my lip as I look at these two women who grew out of the same tragedy as me. Who went through that night on the ridge and somehow came through on the other side with beautiful families, beautiful lives right here in Silverville.
And I tell them the truth.
About my grandmother, about the tricky rules for inheritance. About the scheme Felix and I cooked up, and how, somewhere in the middle of all that, I started to fall in love with him.
“Has he apologized to you?” Phina asks, her voice quiet.
“I think…he didn’t realize he was hurting me back then,” I say, not able to meet her eyes. I know Xeran was awful to her back then. That trying to claim him and getting publicly rejected is a lot more terrible than some whispered rumors moving through school, than what she might see as a little run-of-the-mill bullying.
I go on, “And I didn’t really give him a chance to apologize. I ran because…because I’m terrified that this is going to happen again. That I’ll give him another chance, and he’ll use it to hurt me.”
“I think the expectations in this pack are ruining a lot of good things,” Valerie says, her voice quiet. “All these parents raising their pups with a focus on pack standing, how they can get ahead in life. And I think it just gets worse with every passing year.”
“We’re not raising our babies like that,” Phina says, glancing at Valerie, who nods at her. “We’ve already promised we’re never going to look down our noses at their friends because of the family they come from.”
It makes sense for Phina—she’s always been on the receiving end of judgment, just for being a Winward. And for Valerie, who started facing the same song when it became clear she was a non-shifter.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I whisper, feeling that familiar pang of loneliness pushing into my chest.
“You love him?” Valerie asks, but as she’s looking at me, I know she knows the answer to that—it must be written all over my face. Maybe it’s always been written all over my face.
“Yeah,” I answer, anyway, admitting it to myself just as much as to her. “I do. I think I kind of always have.”
“I think so, too,” Phina says, reaching forward and pushing some of the hair out of my face, then digging into her pocket and pulling out a tissue for me. “Here.”
I take it, and Phina sits back on her heels, going on, “It’s kind of obvious that the two of you are mates. I didn’t recognize it back in high school because I was so busy with my own stuff going on, but I can see it now. If it helps, none of us had any clue that you werefakingit.”
“Faking it,” Valerie repeats, grinning. “Must have beenprettyeasy.”
“Val.” Phina shoves her a bit, and Valerie shoves back playfully. “Be nice.”
“It’s okay,” I laugh, using the tissue to clean up some of my running makeup. “It was easy. Everything with him is easy. It’s kind of frustrating how easy it is.”
“Sounds about right,” Valerie says, nodding. “That’s what it was like with Lachlan, too. Like, no matter how angry you are with them, you’re still connected.”
“It’s hard to tell someone to throw away the mating bond,” Phina murmurs. “And it’s not what I’d recommend. If it’s at all possible, you and Felix should try to reconcile.”
“It’s possible,” I say, swiping at my face with the tissue. “I mean—running out here was only partly because of Felix. The other part…”
Phina and Valerie stare back at me, their faces flush with the light from the moon. Phina’s blond hair looks darker than before, and Valerie’s nose is long and straight, just like I remember from high school. Freckles spatter over her nose and out onto her cheeks.
“The other part was about Tara. I think—I noticed Felix had this smell about him, and under the ash and the smoke from the fire, there was—”
Their eyes go wide the moment I mention it, like it’s clicking into place for them, too.
“Oh, gods,” Phina says, scrambling to her feet. “The smell of the daemon fire always reminded me of high school, but I thought it was because of what happened.”
“You’re right,” Valerie says, her eyes darting to me. “It even smells like her out here. Just a little bit.”
“Kind of minty,” I add, swallowing, thinking about the first time I caught her scent in that bathroom. “Kind of sharp, right?”
“Right,” Phina says, voice low. “So maybe we should—”
But before Phina can finish what she’s saying, another voice rings out through the little clearing we’re in, bouncing off the trees and sending a chill down my back here in the moonlight.
