Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
“Sounds…” I grapple for a word. “Constricting.”
“Some days it was unbearable. Others, it was just part of the job.”
I consider everything Aurelia said and all the things she didn’t before asking, “I take it something happened that you regret?”
“What I did to Tania was wrong,” she says without context. I’m guessing it’s a story I’ve heard before. It’s one of the few times Aurelia slips up and forgets that I’m not Seth, so I don’t fault her for it. I just listen. “I know that now, but what’s the point of feeling remorse if no one gives a shit?”
“The point isn’t that you regret your mistakes but that you learn from them. The only person who can offer you true absolution is yourself. Desiring more than that is a performance. It’s theater, and people want to be entertained. Forgiving you just means the show ends. It seems cruel because it is, but don’t you see the hypocrisy? You resent not being treated as a human being while begrudging others their human nature, just as they judge you for your public wrongs while burying the things they do in the dark.”
“So you’re saying we’re all just hypocrites and it’s hopeless?”
“There’s always hope, princess.”
The rest of the walk is made in reflective silence until our clearing comes into view, but I can’t let it end there. “I’m sorry,” I offer, wondering if my words had only done more harm than good to her. “I shouldn’t have said—”
“No. I…” She sighs. “I needed to hear it. Thank you, Ezekiel.”
“Zeke,” I softly remind her. “Just Zeke.” Aurelia gives me an inquisitive look. “You aren’t the only one who feels as if their identity was stolen from them,” I whisper. After another pause, I add, “My brother called me Ezekiel. He preferred formality when it suited him.”
Tatum preferred my proper name too.
It literally hurts to hear Aurelia say my name, but sometimes, it feels healing too. Like the pain that briefly comes when you reset a broken bone or the stabbing, burning feeling of having your flesh sown back together.
Each time I feel myself being pulled into her orbit, I run screaming in the opposite direction.
But not this time.
Aurelia’s the sun, a flaming star, and all I want to do is revolve around her, but I know that if I get too close, I’ll burn.
Is that why Seth calls her Sunshine? Did he feel it too? Obviously, he hadn’t wasted any time resisting her lure, but Seth is green. Like Icarus he ignored the warnings because he doesn’t know how it feels to have your heart torn out of your chest and shredded by the only person you trusted it with.
Or maybe he does.
I know Seth is still there, but he won’t let me feel him. He won’t talk to me either. Khalil and Thorin said that Seth and Aurelia were alone at the time of the attack. What if he didn’t tell them everything? What if she’s hiding something?
Aurelia sighs, but the sound isn’t quite right. It sounds more like a shudder, like someone shedding a paroxysm of pain or fighting the urge to cry. It’s something she has a habit of doing whenever I’m around. Begrudgingly, I can admit that it’s one of the reasons I stay away. I know my presence is only causing her anguish. But then she asked me—no, dared me to stop running and for some fucking reason, I didn’t want to disappoint.
“You okay?”
“What?” Like a startled doe, her head swings toward me, and her red eyes are glistening and wide, but no tears have fallen. Her light brown skin is flushed, and she looks moments from shattering. She’s beautiful. “Yeah, I’m-I’m fine. I think I’m allergic to the pollen.”
She walks faster until we’re no longer keeping pace with each other, and even though my skin is suddenly pulling tight with the urge to chase after her, I let Aurelia have her space.
“If you say so,” I quietly respond as I stop at the edge of the glade and watch her rush inside the cabin. She disappears from sight, and I tell myself to go. She’s safe. She’s home. There’s no reason for me to follow her inside. It’s reckless to think she’d welcome my company or that any good could come from staying with her a little while longer.
I return to the lake with Khalil and Thorin.
THORIN
Ugh!” Aurelia shouts. “This is useless. I’m never going to catch anything.”
It’s just before sunrise, and the three of us—Zeke, Aurelia, and me—are standing in the shallow waters of a wide river, waders on, fishing rod in hand, and net at the ready. “Because you lack patience,” I tell her.
“Exactly,” my wolf agrees. She then sends me an accusatory look. “I thought you said fishing was fun?”
I sigh. “Only if you have patience.”