Fake Death

Fake Death

"By saving their lives," Rowan says firmly. "If you disappear, the pack has no proof you mated a vampire. The mark on your chin—we can say you were attacked. That you died fighting. Give them a story that makes you a victim instead of a traitor."

"That's not better. That's just a different kind of lie."

"It's a lie that keeps them alive."

I stare at him, trying to process what he's suggesting. Fake my own death? Let my parents grieve for me? Let Amy think—

No. Amy doesn't care anymore. Amy ended our friendship. She won't grieve for me.

The thought makes my chest ache.

"I need to think," I say, moving away from him, away from the window, away from the weight of impossible decisions.

"Julia—"

"No. Just—give me a minute. Please."

He nods, and to his credit, he doesn't follow as I sink into one of the armchairs and try to remember how to breathe.

Fake my death. Run away with vampires. Live as a lone wolf, cut off from everything I've ever known.

Or reject the mate bond. Possibly die. Possibly survive broken and empty.

Or go home and hope the pack never discovers the truth. Hope Mr. Jingles stays discredited. Hope the mark on my chin fades or can be explained away.

Hope, hope, hope.

Three terrible options, and I have to choose one.

"There's something else," Rowan says quietly.

I look up at him. "Something else? Because I don't have enough to worry about?"

"My family wants to meet you. Properly."

"They met me this morning. While planning to kidnap me, if I recall correctly."

"They weren't planning to kidnap you. They were planning to offer you sanctuary."

"Same thing, different marketing."

"Julia." His voice is gentle but serious. "They want to know if you're going to stay."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then they want to say goodbye."

The finality in those words makes my stomach drop. "You mean they think I'm going to reject you."

"They think you're going to choose your pack. That's what most wolves would do."

"Most wolves don't have mate bonds with vampires."

"Most wolves who do choose death over exile."

I let that sink in. "How many werewolves have mated vampires before?"

"A few. Over the centuries."

"And how many survived?"

His silence is answer enough.

"Right," I say, my voice hollow. "So I'm basically doomed either way."

"Or you're the first one to find a different path."

"Optimism looks weird on you."

"I'm two hundred years old. I've learned that impossible things happen more often than people think."

I want to believe him. I want to believe there's a way through this that doesn't end in tragedy or grief or everyone I love looking at me like I'm a monster.

But wanting something doesn't make it true.

"When do they want to meet?" I ask finally.

"Tonight. At dinner."

"Vampires have dinner?"

"We don't eat, but we appreciate the ritual of it. Family time. Conversation."

"So I'm meeting your parents. For real this time. While deciding whether to fake my death and join their vampire family."

"That's an accurate summary, yes."

I laugh, but it sounds slightly unhinged. "My life is a nightmare."

"It's complicated."

"It's a nightmare," I repeat. "A complicated, supernatural, probably-going-to-end-badly nightmare."

Rowan kneels in front of my chair again, taking my hands in his. "Julia. Look at me."

I meet his eyes, those impossible gray eyes that started all of this.

"Whatever you decide," he says, "I'll respect it. If you choose to go home, to reject this bond, to try to survive without me—I won't fight it."

"Liar."

"I won't fight it," he repeats. "But I'll wait. For as long as it takes. For as long as you're alive."

"That's worse than fighting it."

"That's love."

The word drops between us like a bomb.

Love.

He loves me.

This vampire I've known for two days loves me enough to wait forever.

And I don't know what to do with that information except panic.

"Don't," I say, pulling my hands away. "Don't say that word like it makes this easier."

"I'm not trying to make it easier. I'm trying to be honest."

"Honest would be admitting this is insane. We've known each other for two days, Rowan. Two days. You can't love someone in two days."

"I'm a vampire. Time works differently for us."

"That's not how emotions work."

"Isn't it?" He stands, putting distance between us, and I hate how cold the air feels without him close. "You're the one who can't force yourself to reject me. Is that just biology? Or is it something more?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. I don't know what's real and what's supernatural manipulation."

"The mate bond doesn't create feelings. It amplifies what's already there."

"So you're saying I was predisposed to fall for a vampire? That's comforting."

"I'm saying you feel what you feel. The bond just makes it impossible to ignore."

My phone buzzes in my pocket, making us both jump.

I pull it out, my stomach sinking as I see Mom's name on the screen.

Twelve missed calls. Twenty-three texts.

The most recent one reads: Where are you? Your father is organizing a search party. Call me NOW.

"Shit," I whisper.

"What?"

I hold up the phone. "They know I'm not at Amy's. They're looking for me."

Rowan's expression hardens. "You need to call them back."

"And say what? 'Sorry I disappeared, I was just visiting my vampire boyfriend's house and losing my mind?'"

"Say you needed space. Say you'll be home soon."

"They won't believe me."

"They'll believe you more than they'll believe silence."

He's right. I hate that he's right, but he is.

I stare at the phone, my thumb hovering over Mom's name.

One call. One conversation. One more lie to add to the growing pile.

And then what?

Go home and pretend everything's fine? Stay here and let them think I've been kidnapped?

There are no good options.

There never were.

I press call and lift the phone to my ear, my heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Mom answers on the first ring.

"Julia? Julia, where are you?"

And I realize I have about three seconds to decide which lie I'm going to tell.

The lie that might save my family.

Or the lie that might destroy them.