It’s Time

I end up going to the waterfall with Ellie after all. We shift and run there as wolves, two golden streaks speeding through the forest undergrowth, breathing heavily, wind howling in our ears drowning out the hurt, pain, and anger.

I don't slow as I rush off the cliff edge into the water. I let myself sink to the bottom and just sit there as the burn in my lungs builds. It's so quiet here at the bottom of the river and even the roar of the waterfall is muffled.

Gentle gnawing on my scruff tries to pull me up. I ignore Ellie tugging at my nape, wanting to stay in this dark space as long as possible. Ellie links her mind with mine and I answer her frantic call reluctantly. "What are you doing?! Come up for air!"

I can't form thoughts to answer her; my prolonged stay under the water already causing my vision to swim and my head float. When I feel her tugging again more forcefully, I don't have the strength to resist her dragging me up to the surface and over to the rocky shore.

She drops into an aggressive stance, growling at me. "Idiot! You could have drowned!"

I don't bother answering. I just dash around her, back into the water. I swim farther out, directly below the falls and let the water push me down. It feels nice, the pressure, the darkness of the water. I'm not going to actually let myself drown. I just don't want to feel… whatever it is that is brewing inside of me. Frustration? Anger? Hurt? Lose? Helplessness?

"Cameron! Cameron! Please stop!" her mind screams in fear and raw panic.

What is she so afraid of?

Then, I see Addy, mawed and torn, her eyes staring blankly at me, frozen in fear.

Fear of me.

I gasp and swallow a gulp of water.

I feel my sister's human arms wrap around my large wolf form. When we find our way back to the shore, we are both coughing and gasping for air.

"Shift!" she yells at me.

I struggle through my shift as I continue to sputter up water. As the transformation pulls and pushes at my lungs and stomach, I vomit, expelling the rest of the liquid I swallowed.

I shiver in the nude on the rocky ground. A pair of shorts hits me square in the face. I don't dare meet my sister's glare, even after giving her enough time to pull on the navy sundress I know she keeps hidden with my shorts in a nearby outcropping.

"Sorry," I mumble, "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"What? I couldn't hear you," she says with bitterness dripping from her voice.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, Ellie," I say a little louder. "I didn't consider how my actions would affect you and that was… wrong of me." I still can't look at her.

I hear her fall beside me and her arms wrap tightly around me. "I forgive you, and I love you. Always. Just… don't be self-destructive. It isn't like you, and it really scares me."

"I know. I wasn't trying to hurt myself. I just…" I hesitate and finally meet her gaze. The amount of love and acceptance she carries in her clear blue eyes seems like it could fill an ocean. It encourages me to share with her my darkest self. "Sometimes… when I have a panic attack… and I can't breathe… it's terrifying… but there is this point when I start to feel lightheaded and the fear consumes all my other thoughts and… I've never thought that feeling that… might be... better than whatever anxieties triggered the attack. But now…"

"I understand," she whispers, holding me closer.

"What— what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know."

Ellie and I spend the day in the sun, just like my mother wanted. We fluctuate from feeling completely drained to overflowing with restlessness. We instinctually sense each other's moods like a well oiled machine, quickly adapting to the other's needs in the moment. When one of us begins feeling keyed up, we wrestle in our wolf forms or jump back in the cool spring water. We exhaust ourselves until we are both so tired we just curl up and let the sun dry our fur.

Only once do we link again, content to say nothing at all for most of the day. When we do choose to communicate, it is brief. "If Davy is your mate, are you going to reject him?" she asks.

I think about the promise I made to myself to do what I want from now on.

Now that my birthday is actually here, I feel more sure than ever that David is not my mate. I haven't seen him yet—no doubt a deliberate choice on my mother's part to make our "first sighting" as dramatic as possible with a huge audience to boot—but I feel nothing for him. Less than nothing. If he really is my mate wouldn't I be feeling drawn to him?

I really don't want to go to this party, but for once it's not because I'm dreading discovering who my mate is. That problem feels so insignificant right now, it's almost laughable that I was so worried.

And yet… if he is my mate? Will I have the gumption to reject him outright? I have spent most of my life trying to please David and my parents. I really hope he isn't my mate so I can just have an easy out. An escape from their expectations. But if he is? Can I go against him, my parents, the pack, the Moon Goddess? Can I risk most certainly being exiled?

Thinking about the Moon Goddess, it almost seems possible that maybe he is my mate after all. Maybe she would make us soulmates just to cruely torment me even more. But that doesn't matter right now, because, for once, I don't care what She commands. She did nothing to stop the wolves that killed Addy. So what does Her will even matter anymore? If it was Her will for Addy to die, then I don't want to follow Her anymore. And if it wasn't, then she didn't have the power to stop them and she certainly doesn't have the power to stop me.

"Yes. I'm going to reject him."

Finally, it' time.

I'm dressed in the girly outfit my sister picked out, white skinny jeans which accentuate my full hips and wide neck pinstripe pink blouse cinched at the waist. My curly blonde hair is adorned with a flower crown and my whole face shimmers with glitter. Matching pumps complete the look and I swear this is the very last time I will ever wear heels. So much for doing what I want. I'm not doing a very good job on my resolution so far.

As I walk with Ellie to the pack house for the second time today—this time following the road—I am keenly aware of the gawking pack members, too old or young to attend my party, curiously looking at me. I am keenly aware of my appearance, and I know exactly how I look: beautiful. I hate it.

My irritation rises as I approach. Why am I doing this again? Submission? A need to please that even after everything I still can't completely squash? Or maybe closure? A need to see this terrible relationship to the end.

"You ok?" Ellie asks, squeezing my hand just outside the door.

"Yeah," I say.

"You got this."

"Yeah."

"Deep breath."

I take a deep breath and push into the familiar foyer.

"Surprise!" A chorus shouts in unison.

Happy birthdays come after, less coordinated but just as loud.

I hate everyone here instantly. I thought I had expended all my angry energy during my day with Ellie. I thought I would be too exhausted to care at this point. I thought I had prepared myself mentally for this. But apparently it is possible to feel more in one day than in an entire lifetime beforehand.

Seeing everyone smiling, approaching me with well wishes and congratulations, I am broiling with rage. I scan the crowd, meeting the eyes of several teenage wolves, some familiar, many not. I feel nothing. No voice of the Moon Goddess telling me my mate. No unusually strong smells. No sparks when someone brushes my shoulder.

With this many hormonal teenagers in one room, the party quickly kicks into full swing, with people quickly losing interest in me after they realize we aren't mates. I see Taylor in the crowd. We briefly make eye contact. He smiles at me and shrugs.

The music blares and people laugh. I hate them all. How can they drink and party when their classmate died yesterday?

Then I see him. Not who I am looking for, but someone a million times worse: Baylor Hallman.

I see red.

I march up to the wolf and punch him square in the jaw. Some look my way in surprise, but most of the crowd is busy mingling with their friends or already drunk. No one pays attention to me making a scene.

I grab Baylor's collar and growl right in his face, "What the fuck are you doing here, murderer?"

He tries to pull away from me, but I can tell he is already a little tipsy, and I am fueled by pure rage.

"Hey, it wathn' me! I already talkth with Alph—hic—Alpha Ed. What Ross said wathn' cool."

Ross. I finally have a name for the alpha who threatened Addy.

"Ted an' I split from 'im after what happer— happen— happenth in the stans. I hav'n seen 'im sinth."

Ted? That must be the other Clearview wolf. But if what Baylor said was true, did Ross really act alone?

"Where is he now?" I bark.

"I don'th know! I promish. 'eard he skipped town."

"Who told you that?"

Baylor just shrugs at me. "Overheard the werl— waarl— warrllo— damn, thath hard t say."

"Alastair? The High Priestess' son?"

Baylor giggles as if I said something funny. "Hehe. High Pee-stiss."

I release his shirt, disgusted. At least I know one thing. If he came in contact with Alastair, no way he would be able to hide the truth. Which means Baylor's just a bully, not a murderer, and the most likely culprit is on the run goddess knows where.

"Get out," I hiss.

"Sure, wha'ev you say," he agrees quickly, but then mutters, "Crazy omega."

I punch him again.

"What are you doing, Cammy?" My mother pushes through the mass of teens gyrating to reach me. She looks between me and Baylor, but his broken nose and busted lip are already healing, and he quickly wipes away the blood. Probably ashamed he was hit by an omega… twice. "Come on," she urges. "We have a surprise for you."

She pulls me deeper into the party, to the main ballroom. In the center of the room, a large platform is set up with a mic and guitar. Oh no. I can't look.

"This one goes out to my beautiful mate," I hear David say. I can't look at him. I can't. Not with all these people watching. I don't want to know.

David strums a few chords. I still can't look, so I stare at my shoes. He is really bad. I don't even know when he had the time to practice, and comically he is playing—or rather attempting—Wonderwall: the very song Taylor wanted Alastair to teach him to pick up chicks. I hate everything and everyone. When he plays the last chord I can feel his eyes on me, waiting expectantly.

"I love you, baby," he says into the mic.

Eyes on him. Eyes on me.

I squeeze mine shut one last time and then look. Our eyes meet.

He knows. I know. And he knows that I know.

Old habits die hard.

I run.