Page 12 of Pack Witch
Julian was mid-answer by the time I managed to wrench my focus off the too-thick napkin. “…was terrifying to be hunted by my own pack. My power was what led the others to me, no matter how I hid. My powerful twin sister was skilled in magic, and she had the idea to mark me.” His hand trailed over the marks on his shoulder and chest, his fingertips passing close to the dark, beaded nipple.
Damnit, Zinnia. Focus.
“She gave me these tattoos to hide my magic from both the Russians and the dishonorable males in my pack who wanted to force me to fight alongside them. I fled my packlands the same night that Camellia escaped with her daughter, Lily. Ida let me cross through Mountain, and gave me an introduction to the Alpha at Northern. As long as I promised not to turn against them and not to use my hidden magic, I was allowed to stay as their Sergeant at Arms.”
“Sergeant,” I murmured, though he was still speaking.
“I was saved, but Camellia was not so lucky. She was killed, and Lily… Her fate was even worse. Though her daughter saved us all. The Moon has Her ways, or so they say.”
My mind was spinning. “Her daughter?”
“Florida Wills. She’s mated to your Alpha.” He muttered something that sounded like, “And a few others.”
“Not my Alpha.” My eyebrows flew up at his grunt of surprise. “You’rethatSergeant. The Sergeant from the stories.” Even I had heard of his part in all the recent changes that had swept the North American packs. Ida had told me when she’d come for herbs and medicines.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Exaggerations, mostly.” Then he straightened. “What about you? You’re not from Mountain?”
“No,” I whispered. He really had no idea who I was. It hurt almost as much as the initial rejection, to know that I’d made such a small impression on him when we met. He’d never missed me. All those years of crying, all that I’d lost… and he’d never even thought about me. I let the silence stretch between us, wishing I could fall asleep or unconscious, so I didn’t have to feel this pain.
“Your wolf,” he said after a long while. “She’s… absent.”
How cruel could one man be without any intention? It felt like the moon was testing me. “Since the first moon I shifted,” I agreed, liking how cold my voice sounded.
His brow furrowed. “How?”
“The night of my first shift, I scented my mate. His magic was on the air, and I ran to find him. I ran into him, literally.” A short laugh escaped my lungs, or maybe a sob. “He grabbed my arms, looked directly into my face, and rejected me. In fact, he warned me that if I told anyone about him, he’d kill me.”
Fur rippled over his cheeks and down his neck as he snarled. “What? You… you have another mate? One who rejected you?”
“Julian,” I scoffed, my voice growing stronger as anger worked its own magic on my body. I sat up, feeling the grasses strain and break as I did so, a lot like my heart. “It was you. You rejected me the same moment that we met.”
Chapter 7
Zinnia
Julian stared at me, unblinking, for a long moment. Finally, he swallowed hard, the tattoos on his throat moving jerkily as he did so. “What do you mean? We… wemet? When? I don’t remember. How would I not remember?” His stammered questions made him sound like a far younger shifter and made me feel ancient. No one was that good of an actor.
I sighed, wishing I could get up. This conversation was so painful, my injured arm was almost a welcome distraction. But I knew the wound wasn’t healed enough, so I stayed still, glancing at the cobwebs and sending a prayer of thanks to the earth that I’d shared the location of my magical first aid kit with Ida long ago. She knew about the gathered cobweb bandages I’d packed with healing power; she’d seen me use them on more than one of the pack’s pups over the years, the youngest who weren’t yet able to shift and healed almost human-slow.
Julian held still as if frozen, until I spoke again. “The night you left Occidens, I was there, in a grove of birches on the outskirts, near the?—”
“The storage buildings.” His face had gone oddly pale, his hands trembling.
“Yes. I’d had a dream about you, and when I woke, when my wolf woke me…” My breath caught, and I let it out, then tried again. “I was there when you were running away, hiding from the Russians and your own pack hunters.”
“The girl,” he said. “That was you.”
I nodded. “I followed you. I ran after you, swam after you. But my wolf was grieving, and I wasn’t fast enough to catch up to you, though I never stopped, not even to eat. My feet…” I glanced ruefully at them now. “I’d been so excited to meet you, I hadn’t put any shoes on when I ran to find you. I regretted that later.” I let my eyes flick to the tall mountains to the west, where Ida had found me, bleeding out from my feet, of all places, just inside their packlands. “By the time I reached the Mountain border, you were many days ahead of me. A sentry found me and called for Ida. She allowed me to enter with her blessing and healed me. Well, the parts of me that could be healed. My human form.”
“Not your wolf.”
I met his amber eyes, almost proud at how steady my voice was, though every word stripped me of some of my dignity. “My parents were healers. Not great ones, but our family was respected until Occidens… Anyway, they taught me this truth: that healing, magic of any kind, requires a sacrifice. Power, or time, or both. When Ida found me, I was out of time. I’d never had great magic—I assumed for a long time that’s why you rejected me. Because I was so much weaker than you.” I ignored his startled gasp and went on, needing to finish. “So my wolf gave up almost all of herself to keep me alive. All of the magic I had went to save my human form. I haven’t been able to shift since then. I’ll never be able to.” I waited for his expression to change to pity or dismissal, or even disgust.
There was disgust, but it was aimed at himself. I could almost taste his reaction in the air, the intensity of his shock as it sunkin. Horror filled every word when he finally spoke. “It was… my fault. I killed your wolf.”
I shrugged, hissing in pain as the movement pulled at my wound. “She may still be alive, in a way. But her agony was killing me. She chose to free me of that. I like to imagine she’s… denning, in the center of my soul. What’s left of her, anyway. I still feel her sometimes. It’s like she’s dreaming, sleeping too deeply to wake. Though I would like to think she felt you today. She was whimpering in my dreams.” I placed my hand on the earth. “Maybe my magic reached her.” I didn’t share my belief that my wolf was truly gone and that the wispy sensations I sometimes had of her presence were like the phantom pains felt by an amputee.
We sat in silence for a long moment before he could speak again. When he did, his voice was hoarse, as if he’d been screaming in the silence. “I never knew. I swear to the moon, I would never have left you behind.”
