Page 64 of Gone Hunting

My face falls briefly into my hands. “We didn’t do anything,” I repeat.

I make my way to Celia, worried I abandoned her. I reach for her, wishing that gentle warmth her touch causes didn’t result in waves of butterflies fluttering up my spine. Not in front of my parents.

“Celia is in trouble,” I say. “I found her in the forest the day I went hunting.” I clear my throat twice. “She’s my girlfriend now and she needs me.”

Dad places his arm around Mom. It’s then I realize there’s more to their reactions than what appears on the surface.

When Dad speaks, I know my world will change forever.

“She’s not your girlfriend,” he says. “Aric, you found your mate.”

Chapter Seventeen

I start to speak, ready to deny it and accuse Dad of reading too much into it. But my wolf is doing backflips inside of me, lunging at my chest, excited I finally understand what he’s been trying to tell me.

Instead of arguing, I squeeze Celia’s hand, trying to reassure her that this isn’t so bad and that, maybe, it’s actually perfect.

The joy spreading through me is like a breath of fresh air I wasn’t aware I needed to take.

“Whoa,” I say, vaguely aware that I’m smiling.

“I’m sorry,” Celia says. “I don’t understand what this means. I’m not like you.”

“Celia isn’t like anyone,” I explain. “She’s unique. A special being unlike anyone else in existence.”

“I gathered that much,” Mom says.

Mom isn’t judging Celia. Like the rest of us, she recognizes Celia is different. Yet even knowing Celia is a non-purewere, she’s welcoming of Celia’s presence. It means everything to me.

As matedweresthemselves, my parents understand Celia’s importance and they are genuinely happy for me. But all isn’t well with the world, and the next few moments are harsh reminders.

The wind bangs like a fist against the window. Leaves that should remain firmly in place along the trees sweep by as if torn from their branches.

Dad’s narrowing gaze fixes on the window and beyond. “Aric,” he says. “Help me bring down the storm shutters. I want to preserve the generator’s power.”

“What’s happening?” I ask.

Dad doesn’t hesitate to answer. “The dark magic we’ve hunted has dispersed from the borders and scattered around the state. It’s closing in around us and we’re not sure where it will strike next.”

The muscles around my spine grow rigid, squaring my shoulders. “It’ll strike here, Dad. This darkness, it’s coming for Celia.”

Dad and I secured the windows and doors with the metal shutters. We then tightly locked up the barn. I tell him as much as I can in the short time we work. We walk inside about an hour later to find Mom and Celia cooking in the kitchen and softly speaking. The wind sweeps inside before Dad can finish closing us in, fluttering the skirt of Mom’s pink dress around her legs.

Mom gave Celia another set of clothes, a blue shirt that hangs off her shoulders and white shorts. They fit her perfectly. I smile when she looks up from where she’s helping Mom cut up vegetables.

Seeing Celia like this in my kitchen, I suddenly can’t remember a time when she wasn’t with me. She returns my smile, but it doesn’t last. Worry crinkles her brow. As much as I want to smooth it away with a kiss, this isn’t the time. Too much is coming and those I most love are in danger. We need to form a plan.

We talk about the last few days over lunch, each detail of Celia’s arrival thickening the air around us as the harsh winds continue to pummel the house.

Dad tightly holds Mom’s hand where they sit across from us. I hold tight to Celia’s, waiting for Dad to provide some insight and maybe the hope we need.

He drags his hand down his face, something he does when he’s frustrated, and the answers aren’t coming.

“There’s a lot that doesn’t sit well with me,” he says. “It’s not just Celia’s arrival and the darkness her presence brought here. It’s the timing.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing he’s going somewhere I won’t like.

“It’s a rare thing forweresto meet their mates this young,” Mom explains, offering Celia a gentle smile. “It’s not that we don’t welcome you, dear, or the happiness you will bless our son with. It’s simply that matehood at your age shouldn’t be possible.”

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