Page 7 of Fractured Mates

We get to the cemetery, and I reach for the flowers beside me before getting out. The rain hasn’t made it this far inland yet, so I take advantage, jogging toward the headstones.

This place is mostly filled with human graves, but Cara’s family was a little unique in that they preferred to live amongst the humans. That was how they were laid to rest as well.

Considering I had no idea where I was going to live or what I was going to do when she died, I did what I hoped was the right thing. I had her buried with her parents.

But before I can get to their corner of this depressing place, I make a stop in the middle. It took me years to stop hating this man, but I learned that forgiving him for something he couldn’t control was something I needed to do for me.

Arnold Franklin Morsey. He lived for seventy-three years before having a heart attack while driving a small pickup truck with a few two-by-fours in the back.

When he crashed into my Cara… I squeeze my eyes closed, attempting to block out the image of that horrid day.

It shouldn’t have been possible. She shouldn’t have died like that—not with her wolf shifter genes—but she did, and there had been nothing I could do to save her.

When I’d heard her cries through our bond, I had never been so terrified in my life. I felt her pain, but more than that, I felt her fear, which nearly paralyzed me. Even still, the horror of what I might find hadn’t stopped me from going to her. Not even as my soul had literally felt as if it were shattering into more and more pieces as I got closer to her.

I place a few of the flowers at the base of Arnold’s headstone and remove the ones I last left. I’ve never seen signs of anyone else here, which added to the reasons for me to turn soft toward the old man.

My hand pats the top of the concrete slab before I stand and nod. The only words I’ve ever spoken to the man were “I forgive you.” He didn’t mean to rip my life apart, but it was nice to have someone to blame for a few years.

Making my way toward Cara, I ignore the wind that starts to pick up, just like it had at the house. I’m sure the rain won’t be far behind, but nothing will rush me today.

Once I’m standing in front of her grave, there’s a warmth that moves through me. It could all be in my head, but I still smile.

“Hello, Mate,” I say softly then kneel, replacing the flowers in the metal vase secured next to her marble headstone.

My fingers brush over her name—Cara Samantha Havens. She was only twenty years old when she was taken from this world, and she was mine.

A shiver runs down my spine. I close my eyes, remembering her love and kindness and the light that followed her wherever she went.

Even when I’d shown up at the accident site before she took her final breaths, she smiled for me. Told me that everything would be okay and that I wouldn’t always feel so alone. She cared more about me in those final moments than she did for herself.

Tears sting at my eyes and I squeeze them closed, taking a shuddering breath. Without something to focus my gaze on, all I can see is the two-by-four that pierced through the windshield of Cara’s car and went right through my mate’s stomach.

There was nothing her wolf healing could do. She’d lost too much blood by the time I’d arrived, only seconds before the ambulance. Even if I’d removed the obstruction, we both knew.

I shake my head, demanding the memory to leave my thoughts. Instead, I focus on her blonde hair, light-blue eyes, and olive skin, remembering her wide smile and the dimples on her cheeks that were almost always present.

I recall her laugh and the way it warmed my heart unlike anything else on this Earth ever has. The way her touch branded me until I no longer belonged to myself but to her.

My wolf makes a rumbling noise that feels a lot like acceptance. He doesn’t want us to move on. He wants to live in the memory of Cara.

For a long time, that was all I wanted, too. I never wished to be without her, but it’s been fourteen years of being on the run from life. Yes, I’ve been living, but I haven’t truly been alive.

I spend my days and nights protecting others or hunting down those who wish to do harm. I have no home. No pack. No family. Hell, I barely even have a wolf.

While my co-workers have been a decent substitute for a pack, it’s not the same and never will be. Speaking of work…

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I groan. The only times it ever rings are when I’m being summoned for another job, but they know I’m supposed to be off the clock right now. Whatever this is, it’s important.

With reluctance, I answer. “Yeah?”

“Kyler, it’s Maciah.”

Well, shit. He rarely calls himself anymore. This must be more than important.

“What can I do for you, Maciah?” I ask, my eyes focused on my mate’s name as I await his answer, surprisingly excited about the prospect of another job.

There’s a brief pause before he speaks again. “Listen, I know you’re blocked out for personal time right now, and I understand how important these days are to you. I wouldn’t call if it weren’t important.”

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