Page 32 of Lycan and Lark
“I cannot take you back, Aria, no matter what kind of bad feelings you have.” Romani’s jaw set in a way that made the hope drain from Aria.
“Please. I need to get back. There is so much that you don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry. We are not going back until Gideon contacts us. It’s for your own good.”
Aria shoved at Romani’s chest. “I didn’t realize you had become Gideon’s little bitch. You might have to fight Dahlia for space in his bed when we get back.”
Romani roared in irritation. “Aria, get a hold of yourself. You are acting like a child. I realize you are trying to get back for some reason and the fact that you are unwilling to tell me what that reason is shows me that Gideon’s decision to send you here was the correct one.”
Aria took a step away from him. Romani had never raised his voice at her. No one raised their voice to her besides Gideon. She felt angry, embarrassed, frustrated beyond belief. Tears tracked down her face as the fear in her chest pulsed. She wasn’t going to be able to get back, was she?
Romani’s eyes softened as he placed a hand on Aria’s cheek. “You are not the only one who is missing someone right now.” His voice was tight and full of pain. He tried to pull Aria in for a hug but she fought him. He pushed forward once more, drawing her into this chest. Silent sobs racked her body and she relented to his embrace. Romani held her tightly and stroked her hair. “We will get through this,” he whispered in her ear and his genuine, sad words only made her cry more. She didn’t know what was causing the feeling, but if something happened to Lark, she would never forgive herself.
When she returned to her room she crawled straight into bed, ignoring the half-eaten food on the table. She had lost her appetite, and maybe her mate. She cried herself to sleep that night, thinking of Lark, and longing for his comfort. Maybe this was what happened when mates were separated.They die of heartbreak.
No. Her story was not going to end like this. She would find him no matter what it took.
* * *
When the cabin came back into view something felt different. Lark hurt in a way he had never hurt after a transformation. His bones felt twisted and splintered. His muscles burned with a fire that scorched their fibers. His eyes were so swollen he could barely open them. He groaned as his body popped and cracked. His tongue was like ash in his mouth and he crawled toward the kitchen. This was the first time the wolf had brought him back home. In this moment of agony he was incredibly grateful for the change in behavior. He reached for the edge of the sink and slowly dragged himself up. His limbs felt like they were filled with lead. His numb fingers fumbled with the faucet. He pushed his whole face beneath the flow of water. His throat gulped it down like a dying man who had been stranded in the desert. He drank until his stomach hurt and then dropped back down to the floor. He gazed up from his back, taking deep breaths as his mind worked to clear itself.
The clock on the wall told him it was just past midnight. His eyes dropped lower, noting the date within the clock’s circular frame. Ice crawled through his veins. The date must have been wrong, it had to be. Lark had been trapped in his wolf form for more than two weeks? That thought filled him with terror. This was the longest he had ever lost control of his body. The idea that he may shift into his wolf and become a beast permanently was always playing in the back of his mind.
His wolf was quiet in his mind. No doubt temporarily satiated from the weeks it had done god-knows-what. How many people had died? He didn’t want to know.
Where was Aria? Weeks had passed since he killed Creedin. Was she back at the complex now? Was she still missing? He needed to check on her, get to her. His mind willed him to teleport to the complex, but his body refused. He was exhausted. Sleep. He needed to sleep.
He dragged himself toward his bed. Stained fingers gripped his sheets, pulling on the fabric in an attempt to lift himself onto the bed. The sheet slid through his fingertips as it surrendered beneath his weight. Eventually the soft fabric slid off the bed, landing on the floor in a heap. He was too tired to fight anymore. He lay there, pulled the sheet over his battered body, and closed his eyes.
He prayed he would dream of Aria. He prayed more than anything that he would wake up in his own skin. How was he going to get through this without his mate?
* * *
Another day in paradise. Scratch that, another windy day on some tiny island off the coast of fucking Scotland. The wind whipped across the sea, spraying Aria with a shower of salty droplets. She flicked her tongue out, tasting the ocean on her lips. It had become an evening routine to run across the seaside landscape as the sun set. The clean air cleared her head and the physical exertion calmed her wolf.
She and Romani were staying at a small bed and breakfast in town. Aria spent the first week after their arrival sulking in her room. It had taken a lot of coaxing on Romani’s end, and a boiling point to her extreme boredom before she finally started participating in everything the island had to offer. New things were always exciting in the beginning, but as the days dragged by, her distractions waned.
Three unbearable weeks. That’s how long it had been since Aria had seen Lark’s achingly beautiful face. In the first few days she had been so confident that he would find her. She imagined he would just teleport into the inn and snatch her away. But time passed, and there was no sign of him. It had to be Gideon’s doing. Hell, she couldn’t even contact her friends back home.
Gideon had put a ban on communications through some sort of spell. They would only receive news from Mountain’s End if Gideon chose to reach out to Romani. The whole thing chapped Aria’s ass and made her resentment fester. Things were so different here. She missed the community she had at the complex. She even missed Gideon, despite her resentment toward him.
The sun began its daily farewells. Painting the sky in colors reserved for the gods themselves. Gold glittered off the dark ocean waves as night swallowed the last traces of day. Aria waited until the sky darkened and the temperature dropped. The stars lit up the sky one by one, casting a net of unattainably brilliant starlight across the sky.
Aria could see the lights coming on in the town. Streetlights sparked to life, lanterns flickered with roiling flames. Another day had passed without a rescue from her mate. There was nothing left to do at this point but wander back to the pub and drown her sorrows in malt vinegar and Guinness.
Romani was already waiting at their usual table when she cleared the pub door.Fish and Chips.It wasn’t an original name, but it was one of the only bars on the island. The pub did indeed serve fish and chips, which Aria had eaten nearly every night. Extra malt vinegar for the fish, and an excessive amount of ketchup for the chips. That’s how she liked it. Had Lark ever tried fish and chips? Could he teleport around the world to reach her? She didn’t know what freedoms he was allowed when he teleported. For all she knew he had a limit that included a specified number of miles from his current location.
“There’s our sad wee lycan princess.” Graham coasted past Aria, sitting across from Romani. Their new pack exchange member was as burly and bearded as you would expect an island-dwelling, Scottish wolf to be. Long dark hair had been tamed into a semi-messy bun. Piercing brown eyes lay beneath his furrowed brow. Eyes which bore into her at this very moment. Graham was a mountain of a man. The shameless flirting he pursued every night only deepened Aria’s longing for Lark. Graham had started calling her the sad princess. Aria hated the name. Not because of the sad part, but because hearing the word ‘princess’ always reminded her of Lark. He was the one who called her that.
“How many times do I have to ask you to stop calling me princess, Graham?” Her tone was clipped as she snapped his name.
Graham only grinned. “Do you prefer sad wee lycan, lass? Or sad wee lycan spitfire? Sad wee lycan sausage lover, maybe?” His thick accent made every word sound more ridiculous. Aria launched an empty basket of chips at him but he snatched it from the air and dropped it to the table with ease. Romani chuckled under his breath and she shot him a warning glare.
“Stop it with the sausage jokes. Bangers and mash is the shit and one of the only things worth eating for breakfast around here. I am not doing that nasty haggis sheep balls or whatever it is.”
Graham cackled with laughter. “Sheep balls?”
Aria did not share in his laughter or good humor. Unfortunately her Scottish meals were the only kind of sausage she had been getting since Gideon shipped her away. She had no doubt Graham would jump on the chance to pin her between the sheets, but the thought of any other man repulsed her now. She genuinely worried that if she even tried to seduce another man her wolf would use the opportunity to sink its many teeth into a very important male appendage.
