CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT - MARICELA

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT - MARICELA
I don’t know what to do. How to act. What to say. I know Rosalie so little that pretending to be her is more than a little odd.

But I sit down, I smile, I reply, hoping that I don’t give myself away, that I’m convincing enough that this poor Wolf believes my deception.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but clearly there is something serious. It must be why they keep her here, in this cottage away from the Packhouse. 

“Where is Cain?” The lady asks.

“He’s busy.” I say quickly. 

She huffs. “That’s always the issue, I can never have them both together, at least not often. One of them has to look after this Pack.”

“Yes,” I smile, like I understand it, like it’s my issue too.

“But you came with Aeron,” She says leaning in, whispering like there’s some great secret. “That must mean the two of you are getting on better?”

I nod, smiling. Just keep pretending. Don’t say anything committal.

“But the two of you have not finished the Mating.” She states, glancing to where Adriel has his back to me. To where I can see he’s deep in conversation with the Wolf I’m guessing is his aunt, Layla.

“No,” 

She sighs. “He loves you. I know he’s set in his ways, but he does, Rosalie, you can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he protects you.”

My cheeks flush, and as if it’s all some sort of set up, I can feel Adriel staring at me. I look up, I stupidly look up and meet that gaze.

The world stops. Just like always I’m transfixed by this Lycan. His eyes look so impossibly dark. He’s taking up almost the entire space beyond the room I’m in. He’s treated me appallingly and yet I know, if he raised his finger and summoned me to him, I’d go. I’d willingly crawl on my hands and knees. 

Gods, I’m a fool.

“See,” The lady whispers beside me. “That there, that’s the mate-bond.”

I gulp, tearing my eyes away, forcing us to break whatever this is because it feels far too close to home. 

“You can trust him, Rosalie,” She says gently. “Trust you mate. He will never hurt you.”

That awful lump in the back of my throat swells because that’s the complete opposite of how I feel. I can’t trust Adriel. I can’t trust him for a second. And worse than that, he has hurt me, he’s betrayed me, he’s treated me the way no mate should ever be treated.

“Tea?” Layla says, passing me a mug.

I take it gratefully, happy for the distraction as Adriel and his aunt sit down the other side from me.

“I was just telling Rosalie…” The wolf in the bed says, “That I never get to have both you and your brother here together.” 

Adriel winces like it’s his fault. Like he really is Aeron and not his son. “We will try.” He says.

His grandmother scoffs, folding her arms and then Layla leans over, trying to placate her.

I stay quiet, sipping my drink, deciding right now it’s easier to just observe, to take a moment to study Adriel. He seems so different right now, vulnerable even, as if he’s dropped those mighty walls. As if he’s not the mighty Lycan King but just a man, like the rest of us.

When his grandmother declares she wants biscuits, Layla gets up to go grab them and I’m quick to follow after her.

She glances at me inquisitively before folding her arms as a stern expression takes over her features. She’s got that same look they all have. Her hair is darker than her brothers, and her face is softer, but just like the rest of this family, the resemblance is undeniable. 

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask as quietly as I can.

“She has Alzheimer’s.” Layla says. “It’s been getting steadily worse.”

“So, she doesn’t remember her grandson?”

She shakes her head sadly. “None of her grandchildren. She thinks Khloe is me, and every one of the boys she sees as either Cain or Aeron.”

I blink, registering the pain in those words. 

“I take it she won’t get better?”

“No.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I feel a fool asking, it’s not like I even have any place to offer help but still.

She frowns, studying me more. “You claim to be his mate,” She says in a way that doesn’t sound like it’s a question.

I nod. “I am his mate.”

Her lips quirk. “And Lia?”

“I don’t know who she is, but that girl, she’s not Lia dos Santos.” I half snarl, feeling my anger flash.

She draws in a deep breath. “Do you realise the effect you’re both having on my nephew? How much this is hurting him?”

I wince, feeling guilty but then it’s not me that’s caused this. And I won’t apologise for being here. I’m not the imposter, that fake Lia is. 

“He’s my mate.” I state. “My family were butchered because of him, because of me, because of our bond. If you expect me to just walk away, to give up because…”

“Because there’s another in his bed?” She says bluntly. Apparently, that’s a family trait too. 

My shoulders slump. Is that what everyone wants? Have I been fooling myself this entire time? Seeing their sympathy as anything more than that?

“I can’t.” I state, feeling hopeless. “He’s my mate. I can’t walk away, no matter how much I want to. How much it kills me.”

“What’s taking so long?” Adriel’s grandmother calls loudly from the other room.

Layla rolls her eyes, grabbing the packet of biscuits and jerks her head for me to follow her back.

“Sorry mum,” She says as she sits back down. “We got distracted.”

The lady in the bed pouts, before looking back at me and once more her face softens, like I really am her daughter-in-law.

We have a lunch of soup and bread, all playing our parts accordingly. I can tell Layla isn’t done with our earlier conversation but there isn’t any moment where we can finish it.

By the time we leave, it’s late. Evening is setting in and you can almost smell it in the air as we make our way back through the trees. 

“How long has she been ill?” I ask, once we’re well away from them cottage and out of earshot.

A flicker of something crosses Adriel’s face. “A few years. She’s been steadily getting worse.”

“And she always thinks you’re your father?”

“Yes.” 

I chew my lip, my mind racing. Why did he bring me here? Why would he want me to see this? What’s the point to it? 

“What about Layla, does she spend all her time there?” I continue. 

He frowns more. “She and her mate prefer it that way. He’s not the most sociable and when he’s away, looking after my grandmother gives Layla something to take her mind off his absence.”

Away? Her mate is away? Like Levi? Did they go together? “Where is he?” I ask.

He bristles more, like he’s getting annoyed. “He’s at the border with the humans.” He states. “There’ve been issues with Rogues so the Council are requesting I step in.”

I feel like there’s more to it. More he’s not saying but right now this is the first time we haven’t argued, haven’t bickered. It feels almost peaceful, and I don’t want to ruin it. So I walk in silence, feeling the sideways glances of my mate, and I don’t say another word.

When the Residence comes into view, I make excuses, slipping away because my head feels muddled, and in truth, I just need some space. I need some thinking time.