CHAPTER SEVENTY - MARICELA
CHAPTER SEVENTY - MARICELA
When I get to my room, I see someone there, I see the mass of muscles, the undeniable shape of a Lycan and though my heart shouldn’t react, it still does.
And then he turns, he turns, and I see the red hair and the lack of tattoos, and I know it’s not him. It’s not Adriel.
I hate how much it hurts. I hate how much I wanted it to be him.
“Hey,” Ryker says like he knows exactly where my thoughts are.
“Hey,” I reply, giving him a small smile. I don’t want to take out my emotions on him. It’s not his fault. None of this is. He can’t help that his brother is the worst kind of person imaginable.
“Please don’t leave.”
I blink, fighting back the tears. So Khloe told him?
“We need you, Mari, this Pack needs you.”
I shake my head, as that emotion cascades out of me, as I start sobbing. Can’t he see how much this is hurting me? How much this is killing me?
And he’s there, hugging me, soothing me, once more playing that kind, loving brother I miss so badly. “It’ll get better. I promise.”
“When?” I croak. But it doesn’t matter what the answer is. In my heart I know it won’t. Adriel isn’t going to change, he isn’t going to wake up and suddenly realise that I’m his mate. He wants Lia too much.
“Soon,” He replies, rubbing my back, holding me until my tears dry, until in truth, I can’t cry anymore.
“I got you something.” He says quietly.
I lift my head, pull myself far enough apart to look at his face. He’s got that crooked nervous grin. He steps back, picking up a box from the side and he offers it up like it’s treasure.
I sigh, taking it from his grasp and pop the lid. My eyes widen as I see what’s inside. “How, how did you know?” I ask.
He gives me a crooked grin. “Adriel mentioned it.”
I narrow my eyes. Did he overhear me talking with his grandmother? Is that what this is, a way to use that little revelation against me, to reel me back in again?
“I thought it might help, might give you something to do.” He states.
I stare at the paints again. “So he didn’t…?”
He shakes his head. No, my mate didn’t get these. My mate didn’t do anything. Just like normal.
“There’s a room.” He states quickly, like he can tell how close to crumbling I am. “It’s out of the way. I figured you could turn it into your studio.” The way he says it isn’t to say that I’ll be out of the way, more that I can hide there, that I can escape there.
“Where?” I don’t really care where it is. I don’t really care about anything but I don’t want to be ungrateful. Ryker didn’t have to do this. He and Khloe didn’t have to do a lot of things for me, and yet they have. They’re the only shining light in this entire shit situation.
He takes my hand, leading me out and we walk in silence, like I did with his sister. When we get to the room, it’s so much bigger than I imagined. It’s full of canvasses, all blank, all different sizes, there’s even paint brushes, knives too, everything you could want for a true art studio. I can’t help but gasp.
“I might have gotten this already prepared.” He says.
“Thank you.” My heart seems to lighten. It’s not like this will fix anything but as I stare at the space all I can think about is my family, their faces.
Perhaps I can recreate them. Perhaps in some small may I can bring them back.
And perhaps that might help ease that burning, agonising hole in my chest.