Page 36 of Shifting Fate
Arias
I wasn’t sure what compelled me to deliver that gift, other than the fact that it was doing no good sitting in the bottom of my underwear drawer. Not when Dallon could be using it, turning his gorgeous face into a work of art. It just felt natural to wrap it up in pretty paper, tied with a bow.
The handwritten card was an afterthought. He probably wouldn’t forgive me, not with one measly belated-birthday gift, but I needed him to know I meant what I’d said. That past all the hurt and the anger and the fear, I cared.
Ididcare. I cared more than I wanted to admit. I cared so much, I laid in bed at night staring up at the ceiling, feeling the ache of Dallon’s sorrow spread from my chest to my abdomen, radiating outwards.
I hurt him.
I hurt us both, and all I had left was regret.
For all I knew, he’d thrown the package in the dumpster the minute he figured out it was from me. He might not’ve even opened it. My gift might be on its way to the local dump right this very minute, but at least I tried, right?
My wolf grumbled. Not good enough. I needed to try harder.
So I bought another gift—a fancy Bluetooth headset, so he could listen to his weird punk music in style. I delicately wrapped it, wrote a second note and this time, I tucked two black roses beneath the velvety ribbon. Once more, I left it on his doorstep and this time, I lingered just out of sight.
Watching.
It wasn’t long before the front door creaked open and Dallon knelt down beside the gift. I watched as he ran his fingertips over the matte wrapping paper I’d picked out just for him, covered in multicolored mustaches. I saw the smile flash across his face, saw the way he brought the flowers to his nose, closing his eyes as he breathed them in.
Then did the same with the letter, scenting me on the paper.
My chest constricted with the need to go to him, to reach out…and then he and the package disappeared inside, and my heart floated away like a balloon without an anchor.
Dropping my head, I loped back into the woods to join Van, who was my scouting partner this afternoon. He was our resident medic, a healer like Rory. His magic had manifested when he was only eight years old, and he’d trained with my mother and one of the Foxgrove Elders to hone his powers ever since.
He was crazy strong, but you’d never know it by looking at him. Young and painfully shy, he acted more like a bashful pup than some of ouractualpups. He was a sweetheart and one of my favorite packmates, but being my little brother’s best friend, his presence was a sometimes-painful reminder that Findlay was still out there somewhere, possibly suffering.
“Good?”Van perked his bat-like ears when I approached. His sable coloring was in sharp contrast to my arctic white. I sidled up beside him, our shoulders grazing momentarily. I could feel his nervous smile in my mind when he added,“Maybe if the gifts don’t work, you could write him a song.”
I snorted out a laugh.“His favorite genre is screamo.”
“Eek. Maybe not then.”
I hip-checked him.“Once we’re done checking the parameter, mind if we swing past Mom’s place? You don’t have to stay.”
“Sure thing.”
Wrapping Dallon’s gift this morning reminded me of happier times. Around the holidays, I always got shoehorned into helping Mom wrap Christmas gifts. She always joked that I had a “gift” when it came to wrapping presents, but I was pretty sure she just wanted a little quality time. Who was I to argue? Even though she wasn’t blood, Mom had never once treated Espen and I like we were anything but.
She and my father had taken up residence in one of the smallest cabins, nearest the lake. One look and she’d fallen in love with the view from the kitchen window, spanning across the blue-green waters to the bright colors of autumn clinging to the leaves on the other side.
I knocked once, then let myself in. A quick sniff of the air told me my father’s scent was stale, several hours old. Relief swelled like a balloon in my chest. I didn’t have the energy to deal with him today.
“Mom?” I called out, rapping my knuckles on the accordion-style pantry doors.
“Ari, darling, is that you?” Her voice was soft and delicate, just like she was. Moments later, she popped out from around the corner. Her green eyes brightened. “Come here, love, and give your momma a hug.”
I was immediately swept into a fierce embrace. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close. When she pulled back, there was a knowing twinkle in her eye.
“So… How is the boy?” She bit her lip, like she was getting in on some big secret.
But it was no secret. Since the day I’d run crying to Espen, thinking I was losing my mind, I’d spent every afternoon here. Mom was an empath; if anyone understood my struggle, it would be her.
The moment she saw me, she’d drawn me into the tightest, warmest hug and promised me that it would all be okay. I broke down crying, confessing everything as she stroked my hair. Of course, I told her about Dallon. He was the crux, the root of my emotional dissonance.
I cracked a smile. “Receptive? I think?”
