Page 10 of Eternal Mate

“Let’s just table this for now,” Jack suggested, grimacing. “We can’t do anything with it at the moment. Our focus needs to be on the Free Kingdom and Azazel.”

That made sense, and managed to drag me back from a total panic attack.

We could get through this. We just had to take it a step at a time.

Jack and Ashe left us to help Elias set up Marilyn and Johnny’s apartment, which left Sariel and me to catch up with our friends in peace.

Johnny told us how he’d had to whisk Marilyn away as Azazel wreaked havoc on the ones we’d left behind, feeling guilty as they ran from the mayhem and the screams. He’d seen Atlan and Kiran fighting back during the escape, but hadn’t realized that they were at such a disadvantage—I tried to insist he not shoulder any guilt for Kiran’s death. It was a tragedy, but he had nothing to do with it.

He also told us about the vision he’d gotten when they stopped later that night, with Barimuz’s voice growling out directions to the compound, and I was shocked.

Not just because I hadn’t realized Barimuz could send visions, either. Why wouldn’t he have just teleported them, if he knew where they were?

Sariel gave me an equally confused look and then just shrugged. Who knew why Barimuz did anything at this point?

Eventually, Johnny and Marilyn limped their way to the shower, and we loaned them some clothes for the night at about the same time Elias came knocking to show them to their new home. Johnny promised they’d be by tomorrow to catch up more, and Jack shoved a casserole dish in their hands that I had to assume were our leftovers from the evening before.

As our door shut behind them, I tried not to be too disappointed that they’d opted for rest instead of staying with us.

“They’ve been through hell,” Sariel gently reminded me as he put the painting away, laying it upside down so we couldn’t see the imagery. “I’m going to check in with Atlan and Zuzanna—see if they can tell us anything about Azazel or the war.”

“I’m going to upload the next chapter of our story,” I sighed, glancing at my closed laptop with a slight scowl. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

He nodded and gave me a sweet kiss before slipping out, closing the door with a soft click.

I rolled my shoulders, psyching myself up for whatever was waiting for me online.

Before, there was almost nothing, but as things started to heat up in our story, my audience had been getting broader. More people were commenting. The virtual world buzzed with speculation and theories, each post amplifying the chaos. Now, I couldn’t escape the relentless notifications that flooded my inbox, demanding my attention and fueling the fire of public intrigue.

They hailed me as a hero, a voice against the darkness, but I knew deep down that I was just a pawn in a much larger game. It was as if my words had ignited a digital wildfire, consuming everything in its path; I knew I had to continue telling my story.

So, with a deep breath, I sat down at my computer and began detailing the recent attacks, painting a vivid picture of the danger we were facing. There was a certain catharsis in narrating our struggles, as if by weaving our experiences into words, I could gain a semblance of control over the chaos that had consumed our lives.

Just as I finished recounting the events, there was a knock at my door.

My brow furrowed, wondering which of my friends had needed to circle back. A quick scan of the room revealed nobody had left anything; with a small sigh, I readied myself to deal with another unhappy stranger.

Since Auren was taking a break, more and more people had come knocking on our door to complain about the state of things like we had any control over them. Usually, they were content to talk to my mate, but a few had been more comfortable confiding in me, and we’d tried to listen.

Even when their complaints were outrageous.

No wonder Auren was taking time off, honestly, if this was the kind of stuff he had to put up with daily. This was not conducive to finding any sort of inner peace or handling grief at all.

When I opened the door, there was an elderly man, his silver hair thinning and his face lined with age. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

I braced for the newest complaint, but instead of launching into a tirade, he just… stared.

“Hello, Aria,” he greeted me softly, a smile playing on his lips. “I hope I’m not intruding. I’ve been keeping up with your stories, and it finally dawned on me that we’re in the same compound.”

There was a warmth in his eyes that drew me in, and a sense of familiarity that tugged at me; my wolf had sat up and taken notice, eager and bouncy at the sight of our visitor.

My heart skipped a beat as the realization hit me.

No, surely not.

“Who are you?”

My tentative question made his smile waver a bit, but he didn’t turn away from me.

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