Page 77 of Star-crossed Betas

Closing my eyes once more, I decide it’s probably best to keep them that way. All I can do is wait and see what takes me first—the smoke or the flames.

Connor Kelly

Karma is real, and she’s a fucking bitch.

I was so smug and self-righteous about how graciously I’d forgiven Fee, and now it turns out I’m the arsehole!

Okay, maybe not that graciously, but still, I’d gotten there in the end.

However, now it seems I might have avoided both of us spending over a year, heartbroken, if only I’d answered my fucking phone.

But also, no, fuck him. He could have found a way to tell me.

Realistically, my resolve to stay angry over this won’t last very long. Once I go home and Fee wraps his big, sexy arms around me, I’ll melt faster than an English snowman. So I’m running allthe way to Kettlewell to at least give the pretence I’m not going to forgive this easily. I used to be so good at holding grudges, great even; this one feels like water slipping through my fingers too quickly to hold onto.

I can’t quite decide if that makes me more stubborn or less so.

A rabbit darts suddenly in my periphery, and giving into my instincts, I chase it. I’m not going to kill it; just spook it a little. When I was younger, my mum used to tell me off for chasing prey animals, but I won’t actually catch it. The rabbit disappears down into a burrow, so I slow down. It’s late, must be past midnight, and the ground feels cold under my paws.

Slightly further on from Kettlewell is Starbottom, which never fails to amuse me, even when I’m determined to be a mardy bastard. I huff a laugh at the sign and debate whether I should turn back and go home. Fee has to be up early for work tomorrow, and I know he won’t sleep properly until I get home, so that makes the decision for me.

Am I growing up? Look at me being a fucking adult for once.

The truth is that as much as I have a penchant for stewing in my own anger, I don’t really want to stay mad at Fee over this. Between losing my mum as a kid and Archie just last week, I know first-hand how much we aren't guaranteed time with the people we love. With my mind a bit clearer from my run, I can see how the whole thing was just an almighty clusterfuck.

Fee did what he felt he had to do. And with the information I had, I did what I felt I needed to do. Realising I really don’t want to squander any more time being bitter about the past, I hightail it back home.

Barely over halfway home, as I’m skirting around the edge of Grimwith Reservoir, a sharp pain like a bolt of lightning shoots through my chest. Looking down at myself, I half expect to see blood, but the air is completely still, and to look at me, nothing is wrong.

But everything is wrong.

A phantom hand wraps around my heart, squeezing it painfully in a vice-like grip. My head starts to pound. I search my mind for my pack bond with Fee, and the feeling of sheer terror hits me like a bullet train through the bond. My stomach swoops, adrenaline coursing through me faster than I thought possible. With no time to waste, I choke down the panic and set off sprinting for home at breakneck speed.

My mind is racing with all the different possibilities of what could be wrong. I keep searching the bond for more information, but nothing comes. All I know is he’s in danger, and I mean mortal danger. Even with every muscle in my body straining at the speed I’m running, it’s still not fast enough.Not you, too, Fee. I can't lose you too.

My mind keeps playing over our last conversation. If I wasn’t so determined to get back to him, I’d bash my own head in for my stupidity. All he asked of me when I left the house tonight was reassurance I would come back, and my response was fucking manipulative. Finding out the truth had hurt me, so I hurt him back. I’d wanted him to agonise a little, worry I might leave. I need Fee to be okay just so he can punch me in the face for being such a raging arsehole.

Ten minutes from home, and the smell hits me.

Smoke.

I’ve never felt this much dread and fear in my life, and my limbs are screaming at me from the exertion, but I push on even harder. All the while desperately hoping the smoke isn’t coming from our home, and knowing it almost certainly is.

My worst nightmares are confirmed when I make it up the last hill towards our cottage and choke on the thick black smoke the wind is blowing towards me. My heart is in my throat when our house finally comes into view.

No.

No, no, no, no, no. It can’t be.

In the front garden, Magnus is mewling, and I’ve never been so glad that while I was desperately keeping busy to distract myself after Archie’s death, I fitted a catflap in the front door. My relief at seeing Magnus is short-lived when I realise there's no sign of Fee out here. The little cottage we’ve called home these past six months is engulfed in flames. I know there’s a good chance I’m already too late, but I have to try and save him.

I stay in my wolf form because I’ll heal faster this way, and I make a run for the front door, my hefty weight knocking it off its hinges. The smoke billows out, and the heat is stifling. I can’t see a thing as I try to navigate my way through the house from memory alone.

Unable to shout out Fee’s name, I howl loudly, hoping for some sign of life. It’s unlikely Fee would have ended up trapped in the house if he’d been downstairs, so I make my way to the first floor as quickly as possible.

Breathing becomes harder and harder as I inhale the thick smoke, choking on the fumes. Trying to keep my body as low to the ground as possible, I aim for our bedroom. The wooden door splinters as I barge through, and I finally dare to open my eyes again.

Fee is lying utterly motionless on the bed. The curtains are completely ablaze, and the bedsheets are already alight. His skin is pink and shiny from the obscene temperature, and I’m petrified I’m already too late.

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