Page 52 of (Sur)real
Just like that, the pain eased further.
I didn’t let the relief distract me from my train of thought because I suddenly understood that thinking about Olivia was essential. Before I’d arrived, Winifred had hinted that Olivia was playing both sides. We needed to understand why. I couldn’t avoid her; the Elders needed to talk to her and discover her intent for the safety of the pack. Anyone associated with Blake—the words Winifred had just said during those first few shocked moments clicked into place, and I growled. No, not just associated with him. My Mate had Claimed—
The sudden crushing pain devastating my insides brought me to my knees in the snow. I didn’t stop, though. I focused my thoughts on Olivia, not only a threat to the pack but a potential Mate to an Elder. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Henry had felt something for her, too. Something strong, according to Grey. Yet, nothing compared to what I felt, what fate wanted me to feel. Why me and not Henry? Why an Elder? There had to be a reason, but what?
All the pain, even the slightest amount, disappeared.
I looked up into the falling snow with a heavy heart, having my answer. Almost the same answer I’d given Henry. Be nice, but don’t trust. The attraction was so I would pay attention to her—close attention—because as an Elder, I would see something no one else would.
Standing, I took a deep breath and went inside to find Olivia. Now that I’d scented her, nothing could cover up her trail. I followed it down the hall, past the room where Winifred once again stitched Clay, to a door next to the room where my dad spoke softly to my mom.
I knocked and waited. When the door opened, I felt no pain as I studied every inch of her face. Deep bruises covered her cheek and colored the skin around her eye. How had I not noticed that?
“You could use some ice,” I said. “I’ll be right back. Leave the door open.”
I grabbed the bag from the hotel’s plastic ice bucket and went to the ice machine without waiting for her answer.
When I returned, Olivia faced the curtained window, as if she could see the parking lot through the material. Her long pale hair hung in a smooth cascade down her back, almost reaching the curve of her butt.
Her stomach growled very faintly, and I did my best to ignore the urge I had to go to her and care for her. Instead, I looked closer. She wore a sweater and leggings. The leggings didn’t hide her trim legs, and the sleeves of the sweater showed her bony wrists.
“Here’s some ice,” I said.
“It’s not necessary.”
“Why? Is the bruise not real? Do you not feel pain?”
“The bruise is real, and it hurts,” she said without turning.
“Then why wouldn’t you want ice for it?”
“Because it doesn’t matter.” A heavy, frustrated breath escaped her, but nothing changed in her scent. Interesting.
“Why doesn’t it matter?” I asked.
“The only thing that matters is the Judgement. Why is no one listening?”
“Maybe because they don’t trust you. It’s hard to believe someone who has Claimed the man responsible for all the misfortune the group has experienced.”
With quiet steps, I moved directly behind her.
“I’ve explained my reason for it.”
“Explain it again,” I said softly. I didn’t miss the way she trembled slightly.
She turned and tipped her face up at me. Her lips drew my attention. An ache grew that had nothing to do with being an Elder. I pushed it aside and gently set the ice against her cheek.
A shaky exhale escaped her.
“I die. Bethi confirmed it. I always die. In order to live long enough to make it possible for us to pass Judgement, I needed to Claim Blake. I was three, maybe four, at the time. He has kept me alive. That’s it, because that’s all that was needed.”
“Are you telling me that Blake doesn’t care about you?” I asked, masking my disbelief.
“No. He does care, but only enough to keep me alive and under his control so that I can complete the purpose he has planned for me.”
I understood what she wasn’t saying, what she wanted me to know. She didn’t care for him. She felt no alliance with him. Was it true? I doubted it.
“You are so beautiful,” I said, leaning closer. Her breath tickled my lips a moment before she turned her head away.
