Page 21 of Eternal Mate

I swallowed thickly, food forgotten as I tried to work out the best way to tell him I wasn't interested in having a conversation about her. Not that I didn't want to know about her or her life, necessarily, I just wasn't ready to jump into all those aches and pains during our second conversation.

The words wouldn't come, but my expression must have given something away.

"Forgive me. I can see that talking about your mother brings up a lot of emotions. We can save those stories for another time, when you're ready. What matters most to me is that we build a connection, and that can happen at our own pace," he said, his voice filled with understanding.

I felt a surge of relief as he acknowledged my unspoken concerns. The weight that had settled on my shoulders lifted slightly, and I realized that maybe we could navigate this delicate dance of getting to know each other without delving too deeply into the painful memories that still haunted both of us.

Thankfully, lunch flew by after that. Gregory had no real wisdom to impart to me and apparently no ulterior motives other than genuinely wanting to spend time with me, which felt… suspicious.

Closing the door behind him, I leaned against it and took a deep breath.

You're being paranoid, Sariel interjected, amused as I started cleaning up.

And maybe I was, but rightfully so. Everything I touched seemed to blow up in my face lately.

I guess. I sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter as I finished tidying up.

Sariel's laughter echoed down the bond, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and caution.

You're right, Sariel, I admitted, allowing my thoughts to drift inward. I shouldn't let my guard be up all the time. It's exhausting.

My wolf had also been sitting at attention the whole interaction, waiting for the first sign of trouble. While I appreciated her protective instincts, I also didn't want to let suspicion taint every interaction I had with my grandfather. After all, he had reached out in a want to get to know me.

Maybe he genuinely wanted a relationship, free of ulterior motives.

With a sigh, I straightened up and glanced around the tidy kitchen. The remnants of our lunch were now put away, and the scent of the meal lingered in the air. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I summoned the strength to let go of my doubts and fears.

This is a good thing.

With that thought in mind, I rolled my shoulders and decided to update Rebecca on how it had gone. She needed the company or she’d go insane fretting after Harry, anyway.

Making my way down the hall of the apartment building was always uncomfortable, strictly because it was so empty despite the number of people who lived here. The eerie quiet was unnerving; I was always eager to get to my destination rather than hang out there.

Pushing into my sister's apartment, I knew immediately that something was wrong.

The atmosphere here felt heavy, filled with a sense of unease that made my heart race. My instincts kicked into high gear, and I carefully scanned the room, searching for any signs of danger or distress.

My sister was sitting on the couch, her face pale as she stared down at a small piece of paper.

"Rebecca?" I asked, my voice laced with concern as I hurried to her side.

She tried to smile at me, only for the expression to falter at the last second as a soft sniffle broke free. Glancing at the paper, I felt my heart break to see the picture she kept in her wallet—the one of Harry and her on their wedding day.

"I miss him," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can't shake this feeling that he is still out there, waiting for us to find him, and we're just sitting here."

I took a deep breath, finding her hand with mine and offering a comforting squeeze. "I miss him too, Becca," I said softly, "but we have to stay strong. We're doing what we can; he knows that, wherever he is."

This wasn't the conversation I’d been expecting, but she obviously needed to have it.

Hopefully, Harry was somewhere safe. We hadn't heard anything back about him specifically, but one of the first things Jack relayed to us was that people were talking about the Resistance captives. There was an ongoing debate about what would be done with them between Francesca and Nikolai, if the rumors were to be believed.

Jack had barely been gone a full day, and he'd already given us that—not that it was a comfort to think about my brother-in-law trapped in one of those cells.

I wasn't sure if being dead was a better or worse fate at this point.

More tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded, her grip on my hand tightening. "Thank you for never giving up on him."

She was fighting tears, one hand darting up to swipe at her cheeks. Her rapid blinking was only making things worse.

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