Page 76 of Her Second-Hand Mate

“There was a call from Utah,” he said and we both knew that calls were never good. “Your grandmother died this morning.”

I gasped as I felt the dam inside me break.

17 - Dominic

As soon as I could breathe through Penelope’s pain, I settled us comfortably on our couch – I sat with my legs up on the chaise side, Penelope was curled up on the shorter side with her head in my lap, and Gabriel was safely nestled in my arms.

For a while, I just held her like that, touched her face, or kept my hand on her mark while telling her I was sorry, telling her to let it all out. Telling her I was there for her.

Then, I mind-linked my mother.

“Come to our place as soon as you can.”

“What happened?”

“Penelope’s grandmother died.”

“Oh, no. I’ll be there in ten.”

I then remembered Isaac and mind-linked him as well.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Do you need to travel with us?”

“Thank you. How is she? Thanks, that would be great.”

“Devastated. I’ll send someone to pick you up in an hour.”

“Thanks.”

I looked at Penelope’s face with concern tearing at my heart. Her eyes were screwed shut and she was still sobbing. The shock caused her to drop all the barriers she held between us and I could feel it all. How guilty she felt for not having seen Nana in over a year. How alone and adrift she felt in the world now.

Gabriel had dozed off in my hands, thank God, and I just sat there in silence, stroking her head and back as I mentally planned what needed to be done, and mind-linked those who needed to do it.

“Oh, my dear pup,” Mom cried and fell to her knees next to the couch as she scooped Penelope up in her arms. “I’m so sorry. I know what she meant to you. I’m so sorry.”

I felt my eyes and nose stinging. All of us adults in the room knew loss so intimately and so well. And here was another one. At least this one was to be expected, and not a young life cut in its prime - not that I’d ever say that thought out loud.

“What can I do?”

Mom now looked to me, and I couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of resentment towards the strength and determination her face showed.

As always, I squashed it and told her, “Can you please pack some stuff for the three of us? Maybe for two or three days?”

She nodded and went upstairs. I finished mind-linking Elliot and my uncle Oliver. Penelope was just staring at the wall now.

“Do you want a glass of water, Penelope?” I asked gently, but it was like talking to myself.

She just stared ahead.

“Can you get her some water, please?” I asked Mom as she came down the stairs.

Together, we managed to maneuver Penelope into a sitting position and get her to drink half a glass before laying her back down on the couch.

“Is she okay?” Mom asked me in a quiet voice.

Although Penelope was right next to us, Mom could have yelled the question – it would have made absolutely no difference.

“She’s in shock, and her wolf is mourning one of her own. But she will be,” I vowed, and I meant it.

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