Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen

Ryan’s POV

Parchment crumbled beneath my thumb as I read the note for the hundredth time, hoping to find some hidden message in Freya's polite words. I will meet you to negotiate territorial limits at sunset on the Moonstone Bridge tomorrow.” It’s a diplomatic courtesy and nothing more, he said.

Diplomatic courtesy. It struck like a physical blow, the words reducing years of love and partnership to cold political necessity. But at least she’d agreed to meet with me. That had to be good for something.

“You will regret it,” said Daniel, from where he stood near the window, observing me as I stalked around like a trapped wolf. This is a direct affront to Godric. He could use it as an excuse to —”

"To what? Kill me now instead of later?” I gave a dry laugh, and threw the message onto my desk. "The duel's in three days, Daniel. If I'm going to die, then let it be at least while defending what matters most.”

“It’s what you have in your pack that counts the most,” Daniel snapped, finally allowing his composure to be broken. “Your mate, your daughter, the wolves who rely on you for leadership. Not some woman who makes it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with you.”

I snapped around at him, my wolf catching a breath at his dismissive words. “That woman is carrying my baby. My heir. You're telling me I am supposed to forsake my own flesh and blood and leave them to be raised by a monster?”

“What I’m telling you Daniel is that Miu is the one who will inherit for you,” Daniel replied coldly. "The daughter of your real mate; not the pup who will be raised in her father's love instead of mourning why he died following a figment."

The words landed, but I cast guilt aside. Miu was heirloom, but she was also safely tucked away inside Shirley's embrace, while my other child blossomed in the belly of some woman I'd let slip through my own weakness. It was unfair, so unjust it made my chest ache.

“Just cover for me” I instructed, I walked back to my work station to type a reply. “If anyone inquires, tell them I am reviewing border patrol reports. This meeting should be no longer than an hour.”

Daniel was silent for a long time, his face muting itself from one of frustration to concern and then resignation. "And what if Godric finds out about these clandestine meetings? What if he thinks you’re after his mate behind his back?”

"Then I'll have to face the impacts," I muttered. "But I have to try, Daniel. I have to know if there’s anything left of it.”

The Moonstone Bridge was neutral ground, an old stone bridge over the river that divided the pack territories. I made my way here early and now paced the worn stones while my wolf growled beneath me. Every noise I heard caused me to spin around, wishing that golden hair and emerald eyes would come walking through the trees.

And when I eventually saw her my breath got stuck in my throat. This wasn’t the woman I knew — this was an entirely new person. She was resplendent in midnight blue silk, a gown not intended to camouflage her pregnancy - for the better at that stage of development - and with her golden tresses coiled high on her head to reveal the long, smooth line of her neck. But it was her walk that simply took my breath away – the way she walked, straight-backed and with purpose, taking over each step and every space she stood.

“Freya,” I whispered, looking at her like a man starved for water.

"Alpha Ryan," she answered my formality, coming to a halt a couple of feet from me. “You were talking about wanting to negotiate the boundaries and lines. I presume you mean about the contested hunting-grounds near Silver Creek?"

She was all business, no warmth or acknowledgment of our past. I looked at her now, trying to find some remnants of the woman who would melt into my arms, who stared at me as if I were her whole world.

"I lied," I admitted quietly. "There are no boundary disputes. I just … I needed to see you. ” To speak with you away from the eyes of scrutiny and political pressure.”

An expression crossed her face – irritation, maybe, or the beginnings of resignation. "I suspected as much. Say what you need to say, Ryan. I’ll only be gone from my fief for a short time.”

Her territory. Not passing through, not staying for a spell – the Obsidian Pack was home to her now. The revelation stung more than I thought it would.

“You remember that first time we left together? I said, throwing any chance of casual conversation out the window. "You were such a little trembling bird in my arms. But then I kissed you, I told you that you were beautiful and you opened up like a flower in the sun.”

“I was young then, naive,” she said coolly. “I remember thinking that love would conquer anything, that loyalty would be rewarded. I was wrong on all counts."

“You weren’t wrong,” I persisted, taking another step toward her even though it was clear it made her uncomfortable. "What we had was real, Freya. Pure and right, worth fighting for. I hurt you, I made mistakes, but that doesn’t take away three years of love.”

“Three years of a fantasy,” she corrected, her emerald eyes as flinty as jewels. “Three years of me pretending to be what you wanted while fading away bit by bit. Three years of thinking I was loved when actually, you were only convenient.”

It was a painful appraisal and something in my chest cracked. "It wasn't like that. I loved you – and love you still. And left more even than my own life, and more than anything in this world.”

“Love,” she said again, as though it tasted bitter. “And is that what you say to deciding duty over my heart? Is asking for it your idea of parading your pregnant mate in front of me all the while I sat and mourned, keeping silent? Is this how you describe the months of humiliation that I endured while you started a life with someone else?”

Each question was a knife thrust, sharp and lethal. But I persisted, hoping to get through to some part that might still care.

“I was only trying to make things right for everybody,” I said in a small voice. “The Council pushed me, the pack needed grounding—”

“You were avoiding having to make tough decisions,” she cut in, her voice slicing through my rationales like a knife. “You tried to keep everyone pleased, without losing anything yourself. You wanted me to be second best and let you keep both.”

I looked at her, felt my own selfishness robbing me of the willpower to strike a note and meet her eyes. This new iteration of Freya didn't cushion my failures with understanding or excuse my weakness. She just simply said the facts in a very kind of surgical way.

"I was a coward," I confess, feeling as if my words were being ripped out of my heart. “I had been a coward, who hadn't been able to decide between love and duty. But I see that now, Freya. I know what I lost, what I threw away through my own stupidity.".

“Comprehension doesn’t un-damage,” she said simply. “Apology does not mend wounds or build trust. You made your choice, Ryan. Live with the consequences."

There was a note of finality in her voice and I should have stopped trying to save it, gone home and concentrated on my own family. It would only fuel the desperate passion which burns in my breast.

“That child in your arms is mine,” I growled low enough for anyone else to hear. "My blood, my heir. Does that not mean anything to you?”

For the first time since she came back, real emotion crossed her face – protective fury strong enough to make her look scary in ways I never saw.

“That child will be raised by a father who wants him,” she said, reaching for her rounded belly. “By a man who claimed that, knowing full well I was pregnant and biology didn’t concern him. By an Alpha who considers children blessings in their own right, and not just political tools.”

“I would have wanted our child,” I said desperately, and reached for her before realizing what I was doing. “If you had told me, if I’d known —”

“You would have done what you did with everything else,” she said, coldly. “Somehow found a way to have everyone stay happy while evading true commitment. This child would have just been another problem to handle, another wrinkle on your perfectly pressed political garment.

The charge cut deep because there was no completely refuting it. Still, a part of me was wondering how it would really have played out if one of Freya’s children had increased the bond with some people and hurt others.

"Let me feel you," came out of my mouth before I could reconsider. "Just once. Let me feel our baby move inside you.

She looked at me for a long moment, something in her eyes unreadable. Then, to my surprise, she moved closer and took my hand and pressed it against the rounding of her belly.

The baby squirmed straightaway, a powerful kick to my palm which stole my breath. This was my son – blood of my blood, legacy he’d become under another man’s shield. It felt like a physical blow, the truth of it.

“Heavy,” I murmured, my voice choked with emotion as well. "Just like their mother."

"Just like their father." she corrected, but the harshness had left her voice. "Godric's might, Godric’s shield, Godric's love. That is what this child will know.”

But she didn’t draw away just yet, and we stood there for a while connected by the life beginning to grow between us. I could smell her jasmine-like signature blended with Godric's mark, feel the heat of her body and remember what it was like to hold her without boundaries.

“I have dreams about you,” I said, keeping my palm on her tummy. I dream every night of what might have been. About the life we hoped for, the children we wanted to have, the future that I threw away.”

“Dreams are all you have, after all,” said Lois softly, but there was something in her voice — it wasn’t love, exactly, but maybe it wasn’t complete indifference either.

When she finally leaned away and detached my hand from her body, I could feel the emptiness like a bruise. But the short duration of our touch had filled me with hope, of proof that there was still some thread between us.

“I must leave,” she said, arranging her dress and recovering herself. “Godric will want me for dinner.”

"Will you meet me again?" I asked desperately. "Tomorrow night, same place?"

Her emerald eyes searched my face for a long moment; unreadable. "This changes nothing, Ryan. Whatever you thought I was doing just now, it doesn’t change the fact that I already belong to someone else.”

"But you'll come," I pressed. "You'll meet me."

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she nodded one time. "Tomorrow. But this is the last time. After the challenge, no contact."

As she walked off to the distance in turning darkness, I put my hand against its imprint and wished. I'd felt the connection snap into place in our fleeting touch — I'd seen it in her eyes, knew from the way she hadn't immediately pulled back.

Perhaps there was still hope. Maybe love could find a way.