Page 10 of The Barren Luna

“What do you think?” My gaze conveyed how ridiculous his question was and he shot me an apologetic look.

“I honestly didn’t think the bastard would go through with it.”

I shrugged. What was there to say?

“I can’t even imagine how difficult this is for you, Ginny. I wish there was something I could do for you.”

“You could help me leave,” I suggested quietly and, against my will, hope started to well up inside my heart. Maybe his Alpha could override Henry’s command, maybe they could -

“Oh, honey.”

That was it. Two words to crush my hope. To break my heart.

“We can’t risk war with Spruce Mountain. They are bigger and stronger than our pack and definitely more blood-thirsty,” he shuddered. “Besides, you know that the mate bond is sacred to our kind, and no one will support you on this. For as long as you both live, neither can have another mate.”

“Don’t you think I know that?! Do you want me to recite the list they made us memorize in primary school: there are no rejections, there are no chosen mates, you cannot mark an unfated while your mate lives, and so on,” I listed in a monotone voice. “Do you really think I’d be looking for another mate after this shit show?”

Now I was yelling. “I would be living in a hut in the fucking mountains, alone, trying to recover from this, and probably would never succeed! Don’t talk to me about mates!”

I was desperately sobbing at this point, mourning both myself and the image I used to have of my father as my protector, as a male who would be on my side no matter what. The disappointing males in my life were two for two right now.

“Just go home, Dad,” I managed to say. I could tell he was wounded, but I didn’t care any longer.

“I’ll go over to Dotty’s for a minute to say hi and then I’ll be on my way. You can do this, Ginny, you will make it through this,” he said and hugged me. I leaned into the hug, letting myself enjoy the warmth and the imaginary support that came with it, but when I let go in the end, I knew that I was all alone in the world.

???

On a lovely June morning one month after the heat, the three of us were at the doctor’s office again. He informed us that, unfortunately, the first attempt at insemination had been unsuccessful. Compared to the first visit, Hannah was visibly subdued and almost sad, whereas it was a wonder Henry had any teeth left with how hard he was clenching his jaw.

I felt ashamed at the secret sense of satisfaction I derived from the whole thing. Although this meant another attempt and more pain for me, I was morbidly happy she hadn't conceived on their first try.

While the doctor droned on about all she needed to do to best prepare her body for the insemination, how she needed to eat a lot - all things that I was unfortunately too familiar with, I let my mind wander to the West Virginia Day celebration the pack was holding tonight. Me and some of the young females had worked really hard on it, and the weather seemed to be in our favor. Before I knew it, our meeting was over, and I ran to my office to take care of some last-minute details.

The party was a huge success – the barbecue was delicious, the desserts I prepared with the kitchen staff were out of this world (not my words), and the females’ decorations looked professional. I would have to include them in other celebrations while they were on summer break, maybe the Fourth of July party could use their touch.

As I stood in the corner with my lemonade and critically observed my work, always finding ways to do better, I saw my mate at one of the tables with Hannah and a female I concluded was her mother, judging by their similar coloring. Hannah was coyly glancing at him while pushing food around on her plate until he sternly stabbed some meat with his fork and offered it to her. She hesitated and then her eyes got a faraway look in them, and I just knew that he was mind-linking her. She smiled slyly,licked her lips, and seductively put her mouth around the fork. Henry seemed mesmerized at first and then flustered, maybe in response to whatever she had linked back. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene. I was going to be sick.

I felt someone grabbing my upper arm and leading me away. The comforting scent of sage flowers informed me it was Dotty. She led me behind the pack house, where I unceremoniously threw up all over the grass.

“How hilarious would it be if you were pregnant right now?” The crazy female said and actually chuckled.

“It would be insane,” I chuckled, too, wiping my mouth with the back of one hand and accepting the glass of lemonade she was handing me back with the other.

“So what was that display back there?” she asked while leading me to a bench.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, what do you want to talk about?”

I thought for a moment.

“Remind me of Welsh mating customs.”

“Well, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten those of Pembrokeshire, but I’ll humor you. The male needs to steal an item of clothing out of the female’s room without detection before she accepts to move in with him. But have I ever told you about my mate’s pack?”

My ears perked up. Dorothy rarely talked about her mate; it was probably too painful. All I knew was that his name was Thomas and that he was killed a year into their mating.

“You haven’t.”

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