Page 91 of Ravaged Wolf
She’s not saying it was my fault, but that’s what they all think. It’s clear as day. They’re too polite—or they love Trevor too much to say it—but they’re honest people. Their faces don’t lie.
I stand. My chair tips back. I grab it just in time.
“Izzy?” Trevor blinks up at me. I slam the bond shut. I don’t even know how I do it. It’s muscle memory. “What’s going on?”
The echo of his sadness ricochets, trapped in my chest. He misses his grandfather, and the guilt over not being there for his mother when he passed and regret for the time he lost with him botheatat him. And it’s my fault. I’m honest, too, and I can’t deny it.
“I have to take the stew pot back to the den.” I back away from the table like it might explode.
“Right now? Izzy, sit down. It’ll wait.” His eyes are confused.
No one else is saying anything. They want time alone with their son and brother. Of course, they do. They haven’t seen him in years, and here they are, forced to break bread with the female who tore their family apart.
It would be a gift to give them some time and space.
“Yes. They need it. I’ll be back soon.” I summon up a reassuring smile.
Trevor’s brow furrows. “I’ll take it later. You sit. Relax. You did all the cooking.”
I take another step back. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Izzy—”
“Trevor.” Arlais interrupts him. “She said she’ll be right back,” she says gently. Fondly. “Let her go.”
He doesn’t want to. He reaches out to grab my hand, but I’m already striding toward the fire where the pot sits cooling beside it on a trivet I made out of stones.
“I won’t be more than twenty minutes.” I hoist the pot and hook it over my elbow. “Enjoy your wine.” I raise my hand in what I mean to be a friendly wave. It comes across more like I’m cautioning them to stay put.
No one looks like they want to stop me except Trevor. He’s tense, his chair pushed back from the table, hands braced on the edges like he can’t make up his mind whether to get up or not.
“So is the plan to run water first or waterandsewage?” his dad asks.
I flash Trevor a smile and nod for him to stay. I see the conflict play out on his face. He doesn’t want me to go, at least not on my own, but he also wants to respect my choices. In the end, he watches me go with a slight frown as he allows himself to be distracted by home improvement talk.
I walk away quickly to minimize the chance of him changing his mind. I want a little time and space, too. Not much, just some room to breathe.
I haven’t felt so off kilter in a long time, not since before I apprenticed with Abertha. When I finally got the courage to leave my bedroom hibernation, I figured life out. You putone foot in front of the other, and things fall into place. You get farther than you’d ever imagine you could get, and it’s so simple. Take one step, and then take another.
The strategy doesn’t work with Trevor’s family. I take a step—opening the door to our cabin, welcoming them inside—and his mother fails to hide her pain when she sees the empty space and bare walls. Is she thinking about apartment 1248? What she wanted for her son? The basket of blankets she put together for me?
I serve them food, and they all stare at the bowls for a few seconds before they collect themselves enough to dig in. Are they thinking about how wrong it is that this is the first meal they’ve shared with their brother and his mate? Or are they thanking Fate that they’re getting the chance to eat with him again?
Every moment is a raw wound. Every word is fraught. Fault and blame hover over everything.
I arrive at the den in no time, and I’ve managed to work myself up rather than calm myself down. I hand the pot to Enid, who happens to be heading inside, and keep going. We ate relatively early—and quickly—and the sun is setting later these days, so there’s more than enough light left for a short walk.
I don’t even think about where I’m going. I just walk. Across the commons. Past the bikes. Down the rutted road. It’s the path of least resistance.
Pritchard waves at me from guard duty and calls down from his perch on top of the barricade, “Where you heading, Izzy?”
“Just stretching my legs. I’ll be back soon.”
He’s frowning. “You don’t want one of the females to go with you?”
“I just need a few minutes alone. I’m not going far.”
He doesn’t like it, but he’s been dealing with Nia too longto come at me with a show of dominance. “Are you totally, totally sure? I can go get a female for you. It’ll be two minutes.”
