Page 10 of Shattered Mates

Jules

Two days of searching those mountains before I found River. Two heart-wrenching days that had me in tears as I fought off believing there was a possibility we’d truly lost him.

Yet, there he was. Standing at the top of that mountain, like a beacon of hope. Only when he asked me to just let him die, I knew this was only the beginning of another rough road. River is full of darkness. Not like dark magic, but his mind… I have no idea what he’s been through, and I don’t expect him to want to talk about wherever he’s been, but I know he’s going to need time.

All it had taken was one look into his previously bright and joyful hazel eyes to see the torture within them. Whether that’s self-inflicted or otherwise, he’s been through hell.

I try to focus on the fact that he hasn’t run from me, and he seems eager to get home—especially since from the few things he’s said, it seems as if his memories were being blocked from him. Maybe some mundane conversation will do him good.

“I have food in the truck if you’re hungry. Oh, and extra clothes.” His aren’t filthy, but I have no clue how long he’s been wearing them.

River seems focused on the trek down the mountain as he nods. “Food and clothes would be good. A shower, too.”

A few rocks slip out from under my boot, but I easily catch myself before falling. We should let our wolves run us down, but I’ve only just got him back, and hearing his voice is the only thing keeping me from not losing my shit.

My insides feel beaten, my heart shattered, and my mind a tornado of jumbled thoughts. The pressure in my chest only intensifies the longer I’m with him. Not that I blame River, but his agony is so palpable that I can barely breathe.

His head is down, and he stumbles as well. As much as I want to hear his voice, I don’t want to be selfish. “Would you rather run down with our wolves?”

The words pain me, but this isn’t about me. This is about River and making sure he’s as comfortable as he can be. If he’s not ready to talk, then I can accept that.

He’s barely even breathing himself, my wolf says, her voice filled with sorrow. He needs us more than ever.

I hear what she’s saying, but there’s a part of me that sees him as he is now—closing off more and more by the second and desolate—that wonders if while I might be his mate that I’m in fact the last person he needs right now.

What does that mean? my wolf snarls.

“Yeah, that might be better,” River finally answers my previous question. “I haven’t been on two feet much lately.”

I make my wolf wait to hear the rest of my thoughts. Instead, I’m focused on my mate, wondering if the moment he shifts, he’s going to run from us. Maybe he’s only stuck around because I happened to find him in his human form.

He wouldn’t run from us, my wolf says confidently.

While I know the River we first met wouldn’t, this isn’t him. He’s a different man, just like we’re a different woman. I can’t force him to be who he was, especially when I have no clue what he’s been through.

I might have allowed myself to be angry with him for leaving without a goodbye, but that’s only because the simmering fury was easier to handle than the hurt of feeling alone.

Now that the sorrow is here in my face, I can’t ignore it or pretend it’s not there because it’s not only mine. It’s both of ours. I need to be strong for not only myself, but for River too.

How can you think you’re the last person our mate needs yet feel the need to be strong for him? she asks with curiosity instead of the snark I expect.

River starts to shift, and I stay frozen in place, watching as energy builds around him. In seconds, his red-brown wolf comes into appearance. Though, he’s more brown from all the dirt than the red highlights I remember.

His wolf takes one look at me and bows his head as he steps closer. I meet him in the middle and reach my hand out but wait for him to make contact first.

The moment his head rubs against my palm, I nearly collapse to the ground from the weight of the relief. I want to weep and yell all at the same time. Tears of joy threaten to fall down my cheeks, but I shove every emotion back, afraid to overwhelm his wolf.

“It’s good to see you again,” I tell him, inching closer.

He lifts his head, then nuzzles his snout against my chest. His chest rumbles, and I can’t hold back the way my body trembles from his closeness. Even if this isn’t the part of River I’m desperate to feel, knowing his wolf isn’t running is enough to break the tight restraints I’ve been holding onto.

“I should shift,” I say with a shaky voice.

His wolf hesitates to back up, but finally does.

As I call my wolf forward, I finally explain my thoughts.

When we get home, we’re giving River space to heal.

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