Lycan Legacy (A Soulmark Series Book 5), page 11
"And was romance something lacking in your life before... this." Atticus sweeps his arm out to the side for added effect. I swallow.
"Twenty-five years is a long time to go without romance," I give careful emphasis to each word.
"I agree," Atticus nods and shifts his posturing to something more open and a touch more vulnerable. It shows in the angle of his head and the way it tilts downward along with the slight fall of his shoulders. "I'm certainly in no position to judge, seeing as how I was in the same shoes as you."
He treads the short distance between us with sure steps. The look in his blue eyes is indiscernible, but that doesn't stop them from having an effect on me. Under his regard, the slowest burn stirs in my blood. All of my lycan senses hone in on the wolf before me. His confident but measured gait. His narrowed gaze and hunched shoulders.
Atticus’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. There should be no doubt that the movement is innocuous, and yet my eyes won't stray from the gleaning surface of his mouth.
He's hunting me, I realize as he stops only a foot before me.
"But if it's any consolation, I think what we'll have will put all the rest to shame. Even your Nora Roberts," Atticus offers.
His words draw my breath to a stop. I drag my eyes away from his mouth, the hot flare in my blood rising as I chance a glance up to his eyes. A breathy exhalation rushes out of me at what I see. Want. Pure and simple.
So much for taking things slow.
I should speak up, but what can I say that won't end in disaster? Say nothing and my silence may infer a receptiveness I shouldn't give in to, let alone imply. Speak out, and I may make the hunt seem more appealing. Or worse, clue Atticus in on my doubts and troubles... and betrayal.
Fragile darkness looms as my lashes flutter closed, my thoughts clashing in a battle over what to do. I don't notice the gradual decline of Atticus's head closing the distance between us. But the wolf does. I breathe in his scent, and the wolf gives pause to appreciate the top notes of greenery and lavender and base notes of oak moss and musk from his cologne.
"Winter?'
"Yes?" As my lashes draw upward, Atticus's nearness sinks in. My back bends to accommodate his new proximity. A firm hand slides quickly to the soft curve my spine creates, but he doesn't pull me closer. My eyes meet with his dreamy blue ones, and the world around us allows us a quiet moment to take each other in and the possibilities swirling around us.
I place a hand tentatively on his chest, unable to decide whether to push him away or pull him forward.
"I know I've said it before, but I'm really happy that you're here." Atticus tilts his head until his forehead rests upon mine. His breath still smells of the cinnamon coffee he had this morning, and I angle my head back to catch the scent a little more. "I want you to be happy here. Whatever I can do to make that happen, don't hesitate to ask."
His hand splays down to my lower back, inching my body closer to his and letting it come to rest above my soulmark. I exhale a touch sharper than intended. My cashmere sweater is the only barrier between our flesh meeting, but knowing it is so close makes me tremble.
"Anything you want... I'll give it to you," he promises, his voice turning husky.
My fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater until the ribbed material is bunched between my fist.
"I—" Atticus's body tenses at my first word, but my tongue feels thick and heavy in my mouth. I'm unable to form a sentence, let alone another word. He draws me in another inch until our bodies are pressing softly into one another. "I want—"
"Yes?"
His heady eagerness cuts through the spell he's cast on me, and my right mind shouts at me to retreat... along with every reason we cannot be together. The soulmark curse that denies us the ability to have a family of our own—not to mention my lying and betrayal.
"I'd like to see Lunaria today," I blurt out. I'm unable to meet his probing stare and direct my gaze instead toward his chest.
"Of course," he murmurs, pulling me into a hug and burying his face into my neck and hair. He inhales long and deep, and the tension that briefly rode high in his body slips away. I too inhale, drawing in his scent to calm my wrought nerves.
Atticus pulls away, the darkened want in his eyes once more subdued. He is reluctant to release me but does so like the gentleman he is.
"I need to make a phone call first," Atticus informs me. "But after that, I'll take you over."
He brushes a kiss upon my temple, and the heat inside me ignites once more at the simple touch. Atticus seems to realize the effect it has on me, his sharp gaze running over me from top to bottom before retreating to his office. I take several steps forward until I reach the black quartz island, my hand reaching out to clutch its cool surface.
There is a storm brewing between us. A shiver of anticipation spider-crawls up my spine. And all my intentions to play it cool are going to be damned... by Atticus's hand.
++
The day holds an eerie calm to it, a stillness that would be unwise to disturb. I breathe in the cold air and let it fill my lungs.
Standing before the Trinity Coven's front door, my skin and nose itch at the amount of magic surrounding their home. How bad will it be on the inside? The thought brings a subtle frown to my brows and my nose crinkles ever so slightly. No going back now.
I give a hearty knock and hear footsteps a few seconds later. The steps grow louder until the noise of the door handle squeaks open. Luna answers. She's bundled up in an oversized turtleneck sweater, and her purple eyes grow wide at the sight of me. I smile back.
"Hello." Luna continues to stare, and I sweep my gaze over her wild white curls. "How are you? May I come in?"
She blinks back at me, nodding with an uncertain air as she allows me in and shuts the door behind me. "What are you doing here?"
I hesitate before slipping off my leather gloves. "Didn't Atticus call?" Luna shakes her head. Then who did Atticus call if not the witches to tell them of my coming?
"Nobody has called all day," Luna explains, still eyeing me with wonder and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"
I tug off my hat but keep my coat on, lifting the corners of my mouth into a bigger smile. "I wanted to see you."
"You wanted to see me?" Her eyebrows dart toward her hairline. "Why?"
"I thought it would be nice to get to know you more."
Lunaria's porcelain cheeks fill with blooming red flowers. "Truly?" her vulnerability softens her posture, and I let my smile mirror the softness.
"Yes."
Lunaria bites her lower lip to stifle the smile on her face before ducking her head. "Oh."
Naturally, my own smile grows larger and far more genuine than before. "I thought we might go for a walk. It's the nicest it’s been in days without the wind. What do you say?"
Luna's head snaps up and issues a short succession of nods. "That sounds lovely! Just let me tell the aunts so they can glamour my…." She gestures to the flowers and vines moving leisurely beneath her skin, the bell-shaped sleeve of her turtleneck flopping hazardously over her hand in the process. I nod in return and put back on my hat as she rushes off.
I hope I know what I'm getting myself into.
I have a bad feeling I don't.
++
The perfume of the forest is dull, even to my lycan senses. The dry winter air and cold temperature cannot effectively trap the aroma of the red cedars and spruce trees that occupy the surrounding area, but trace amounts drift by every now and then.
My breath plumes before me with every exhalation. There one second, gone the next. What a nice change to focus on the peacefulness of the moment and tender silence between us rather than why I have requested this walk with Luna.
The knowledge I shared of the fairy will not sate my parents. Oh no, they will demand more, and so more I will get. The bigger task I’m confronted with is extracting the right information, something that will appease my parents while not compromising Luna's safety.
I glance at the fairy. She walks beside me silently, mittened hands swinging at her sides. Her face is tilted precariously back—almost to an uncomfortable degree—to achieve maximum sun exposure. I’m unsure as to how she doesn’t misstep or stumble, but it is she who guides us confidently through the forest.
No longer does she sport a wild garden beneath the surface of her skin, nor are her magnificent wings visible, thanks to Zoelle's grandmother, Diana. There is a peace that exudes from Luna that was not present at Christmas. It’s clear she relishes in the act of simply being in nature, and it’s a trait I can empathize with.
The wolf rouses in my mind to pass along its pleasure. It too likes to be out exploring and learning the territory we now call home. The soft pressure of the wolf's sentiments almost makes me falter, but it circles back to its former resting spot and fades from my thoughts. A shiver dances across my body.
It is strange to hear the wolf's thoughts and sentiments mingle with my own. Although, I muse, not wholly unwelcome.
Luna stops near a large tree, her hand reaching out to graze the trunk.
"My friend Alekos would love this forest." Luna keeps her back to me as she stares up into the branches and the spindle-like green needles that protrude from them. "He's what you would call a Tree Runner."
I open and close my mouth a few times, as my brow furrows with curious confusion. "I'm not very familiar with Tree Runners. Would you mind explaining?"
She looks back at me, her glamoured eyes staring straight through me. "Alekos was born of the bark. It's in his blood to know the trees. He speaks with them, and they to him. There aren't too many Tree Runners in my... home." Her speech slows as she casts her sights downward. "But I think he is one of the best around. Alekos can even call them to arms. He says it is harder with the old ones with their roots so deep, but he can, even if it's just one."
"That's incredible," I say. Luna hums her agreement, a small smile on her face as she turns an admiring gaze to the tree. "You know, the western red cedar is a popular wood for making furniture. The wood is soft and easy to work with, but it's also durable. They say a piece of furniture made from red cedar can last one hundred years."
"Oh?"
I nod and then point to a different tree in the distance. "That one there—the spruce—its wood is commonly used to make musical instruments, like violins and cellos, even pianos."
"Alekos always told me the trees like to sing, but I can never catch them doing it," she confesses. Her hand falls from the trees side, and we walk on. "How do you know so much about the forest?"
"I'm somewhat of an amateur botanist—heavy on the amateur." Luna casts a shy smile at me. "I've always enjoyed learning about them," I explain further. "There's something about plant life that I find so... satisfying."
"That's lovely, Winter," Luna commends me.
"I used to talk a lot about plants with Atticus in the letters we wrote to one another," I continue, not so certain why I'm revealing the information to her. "I did it more when I was younger. When I was around thirteen, I made a better effort to talk about other things and to learn more about him."
"And for him to learn more about you?"
"Mm-hmm." It's not exactly a lie. In my eyes, Atticus has always been the better writer of us. He captured daily life and personal topics effortlessly. Whereas I discovered a knack for turning the mundane into even more snooze-worthy material, thanks to my parents editing. Anything of substance Atticus might have learned from me will have been from when I was younger and my parents didn't censor our letters so strictly.
"Oh dear." Luna's voice turns hollow with distress.
She stops, frozen in place as she stares at a cedar in distress. We've wandered off the trail meant for hikers and deeper through the trees, but I see nothing out of the ordinary.
I scan the frosted landscape, keeping my lycan senses alert as I take a step closer to Lunaria. "What's wrong?" I ask in a whisper.
Her bottom lip quivers, and try as I might to catch her glossy eyes, they remain locked upon the towering tree.
"Luna, what's wrong?" I ask again, louder this time. Crocodile tears drop down her pinked cheeks, and my concern turns from possible enemies to the fairy in front of me. "Lunaria?"
A soft keening noise drifts from her when her mittens rise to shield her eyes. "I'm sorry," she mumbles past her cupped hands, shoulders quivering.
"It's all right," I assure her and collect her into my arms. She comes willingly, tossing her arms around my neck and sobbing into my scarf. I squeeze her tighter, still keeping an eye out for any interlopers who might intrude on this moment. "Everything is fine, Luna. I promise."
A rush of words floods from her mouth. I can scarcely keep up. Snippets of self-doubt and worries far greater than one person should carry make it to my ears. With great gentleness, I pull her back and lower her hands.
"Luna?"
"They broke me," she rasps, her red-rimmed eyes locking onto the tree again. "They tore me apart, and I was too weak to do anything about it. I can't save her. I can't save… save me."
"Listen to me, Luna," I state with firm authority and squeeze her wrists to draw her attention to me. "You are not broken. Stop selling yourself so short. I know you were hurt that night, but you did what you could. Now tell me, what is this place to you? Is this where it happened?" My voice goes softer at the end seeing the truth to my question fill her eyes.
"I'm supposed to keep them safe. I failed—"
"That responsibility doesn't rest on your shoulders, Luna," I tell her, searching her eyes for acknowledgment. Once found, I continue on. "It rests on the pack and the coven and each and every member to look out for one another. There have been other fights and other casualties, were those your fault too?"
Her struggle shows on her face before she quietly answers. "No. But—"
"No 'buts,' Luna. You have to unbind yourself from this burden you carry. Start accepting it wasn't your fault, because that is the truth. Or you can stay on this path, but you'll only damage yourself further here." I issue a light tap to her temple, easing my lips into a small and reassuring smile. "Don't focus on what is tearing you apart. Focus on what's keeping you together—the friends who are here to support you and this beautiful forest that you nurture."
Though her bottom lip trembles, Luna rolls back her shoulders and wipes her cheeks. Still sniffling, she replies, "I'll try."
"Good." I wrap her up in another hug and direct us back from where we came. If only I could take my own advice.
The quiet between us is like thin ice. Each step we take is made with the utmost caution, and while Luna keeps her eyes glued to the ground in front of her, I stay alert for any unwelcome guests who might disturb us.
"It's not just me who's hurting," Luna whispers as we find the civilian path once more. "The forest hurts too. I want to be out here and comfort them... but their pain combined with my own is sometimes unbearable."
"I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you."
Lunaria releases a heavy sigh and glances up at me. Her wild white hair sways with the passing breeze. "I'm connected to the earth and, in turn, all that seeds from it. Half the forest has fallen to sleep, and the trees only tell the story of when the stone broke. I ask them to tell others, but they won't listen to me."
"But if the trees are of the earth, shouldn't they have to listen?"
Luna shakes her head, lips thinning momentarily. "The earth listens to me and sometimes the lesser flowers, but the trees are not so easily swayed. Alekos could. Perhaps my friend Celosia could, for her spirit burns so brightly."
I begin to chew on my lip, my curiosity rising at her explanations and my conscience along with it. I want to know more, but the thought of potentially turning that knowledge over to my parents makes my stomach clench uncomfortably.
"We should—"
My redirect is cutoff by a loud sneeze, one that causes Luna to stumble back a step. She frowns in frustration, sniffling and patting her nose with her mittens.
"I can't stand the cold! It never gets this way in the Hollow Woods. The aunts say they don't want me to get a 'cold,' but all I ever am when I step outside is cold. I don't understand," she fumes. "And I feel so lonely here... I never felt this way in the Hollow."
I place a gloved hand on her shoulder and squeeze. "You don't have to feel lonely any more. Whenever you need a friend or someone to talk to, just call me. When Atticus returns to work, I'm not sure what I'll do to occupy myself. Maybe we can spend more time together."
"Thank you, Winter. I can see why you're a beta. Atticus once told me betas care for the pack like they care for their own hearts. And you do it well."
I blush at the compliment. "Thank you, and you're welcome, I suppose."
"Do you love him?" she asks. I almost trip over my feet at her blunt, yet innocent question. She looks to me in bewilderment, watching as I right my balance. "Are you all right?"
"I—yes, I mean no. No to the first and yes to the second."
She takes a moment to process. "But... you recently celebrated your union, did you not?"
"Yes."
"Then you are in love?"
"No."
Luna stops, folding her arms around her middle, she sends me a small glare. "I do not understand."
I shuffle to a stop as well but turn my regard to the dull branches of some shrubbery just behind her.
"We have an arranged marriage, Luna. Our families decided it was best we wait until we were older to marry because of the soulmark. All of our communication was done through letters these past twenty years."
I glimpse at Luna's widening eyes and the way her mouth parts with awe. "And after all of these years, you are not in love?"
"There's a part of me that cares for him deeply," I confess, starting to walk again as the cold begins to bite at my nose and cheeks. Up ahead I seek out the line of houses I know to be coming up. A gracious sigh falls from my lips as I spot their shapes in the distance. "But I've been careful to keep my heart at bay all these years. At least, for the most part. Faking perfect or pretending to be someone else is too easy to do when all you have to go by is their written word.
