Alpha Divided
I thought about asking where we were going, but I had a pretty good idea.
We walked across campus to the parking lot, and he opened the front door to his car. “In.”
“Are you sure it’s okay to leave campus right now? I just got back and…”
“Yes. We need this. It’ll be okay.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “If you say so.”
“I say so.” He threw the bag in the back and got in the seat, handing me the backpack. I couldn’t help but peek. I unzipped and looked at the two glowing jars. My energy was still there. I had to keep reminding myself. It hadn’t gone anywhere. Not really.
A year ago, if I could’ve put my visions in a jar and buried them in the backyard, I would’ve done it. I would’ve done anything to get rid of them and be normal. Now I wanted them back so bad I itched to snatch the jars and smash them.
“Ready?” Dastien asked.
“Yeah.”
As he drove, playing soft piano music that soothed my soul, I stared out the window. “Are you mad?” I asked.
“Even though you were in the feral cages? Even though I was wrong, and you were right?”
He sighed. “We were both wrong. I was wrong because it was worth trying. We had to give up a lot, but if the witches had been honorable, it would’ve been for the greater good. And you were wrong, too.”
I bit my trembling lip.
“You’re wrong because you’re a good person. You saw the evil there, but you wanted to fix it. You wanted to protect the pack. And that’s the most honorable kind of wrong you could ever be.” He paused. “Wrong is the wrong word.”
I laughed but it sounded a bit desperate, even to me. “Wrong, huh?” He’d used the word a million times.
“It is. It’s not you. This wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask to get stripped. This is Luciana’s fault. This is Rupert’s fault. All we did was try our best.”
“We failed.”
“Not yet.”
He was right. We still had a chance, but it felt like I’d already failed. I’d gone to the compound and I hadn’t accomplished anything.
Dastien stopped the car as we reached the clearing, and went into the back of the car—pulling out the bag of food and a blanket. While he was busy, I hopped down out and started walking.
He caught up in a second. “Let’s go by the pond.”
“Okay,” I said.
This was the first time I’d been around him since I accepted that he was my mate—since that first vampire attack—that I couldn’t feel what he was feeling. It was both disarming and unsettling. It was like there was a great cavern between us and I couldn’t reach across to him.
I’d thought I missed him before, but being next to him, I missed him even more.
He glanced up at me from where he was putting the blanket. His eyes hadn’t dulled from glowing yellow. I didn’t have to be able to read him to know that this was bothering him, too. He was way more obsessed with our bond than I was.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I wish we could break the jars now. I don’t like this distance. You’re here but you’re not, and it’s driving me crazy.”
I sat down heavily. “Me, too.”
“I know.”
“You were hurt, and that hurts me, but I’ll be here for you. No matter what.”
His words made me feel a little better. “Do you think we’ll ever get to live here?”
“I know it. I will make it happen no matter what.”
He was so determined that I almost believed him. Almost. “Some things won’t be in your control.”
“I don’t care. If that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen. Trust me. This will be okay. It might be a while, but we’ll make it okay.”
I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. “Do you think that our bond will come back?”
“Is that what you’re afraid of?”
A part of me was. A lot of our relationship was based on our bond and being mates. If that was suddenly gone, if I never got back to who I was before, would he still be with me? “Yes. If I can’t be your mate anymore—”