Chapter 91
Chapter 91
“They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of grief is finite.”
Cassandra Clare
*3 Months Later*
“Have you eaten anything today?”
It wasn’t until Hudson’s hand came down on my shoulder and shook that I registered he’d been speaking to me.
It took just about all my energy to crane my head and make eye-contact with my older brother, who looked more concerned than I’d ever seen him.
He must’ve seen the fatigue on my face because he sighed and said, “I’m going to take that as a no. Here.” From behind his back, he produced a sandwich.
When I didn’t immediately reach for it, the concern on Hudson’s face deepened. “Ollie, *please.* Just eat something.”
I didn’t feel hungry – didn’t feel much of anything these days – but I took the sandwich anyway and forced myself to take a bite. He’d made it just how I liked it: turkey, cheese, lettuce, and mayo on toasted bread, but chewing and swallowing that single bite might as well have been as exhausting as a marathon.
Still, Hudson’s relief was palpable, and he flopped down next to me on the wooden patio. “I’m really worried about you, Ollie.”
“I guess that’s fair,” I replied, my voice hoarse from disuse. I hadn’t done a lot of talking lately. “If I were you, I’d be worried about me too.”
“You’re always out here,” he said, peering up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and if you looked beyond the pine trees that covered our pack’s land, you’d see the expanse of sky covered in stars.
And the moon.
It was a full moon tonight.
“What are you looking for?” Hudson asked.
“Nothing in particular. I’m just…being out here makes me feel more at peace.”
“Is that why you’re sleeping through the entire day now? I never see you anymore,” Hudson said. “I miss you. The pack misses you. They’re so many new wolves now. They want to see their Queen.”
At that title, I stiffened. “I’m not a Queen, Hudson. Not anymore.”
“That’s not tr –”
“It is true,” I cut him off. “The only person who saw me that way is lying in a cursed sleep, and I’m never going to see him again.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say his name out loud, afraid of what emotions would erupt from me if I did. I’d gotten very good at keeping my emotions – my grief, my guilt, my remorse – tucked away so they wouldn’t overwhelm me. I’d carved out a comfortable little corner of numbness inside me, and that’s where I stayed.
After several moments of silence, Hudson sighed. “I need to get some sleep, but…there’s a pack meeting tomorrow evening. It’s small, not a big affair. I’d love to see you there, and I know everyone else would too.”
When I didn’t reply, he crept back into the house and left me to my star-gazing.
🌘🌑🌒
I could ignore my emotions just fine, but my stomach was proving harder and harder to tune out. When I woke up from a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep the next afternoon, there was only one thing I registered – the smell of food.
Real food.
Not the crackers or bits of sandwich I’d been living off of since fleeing back to Hudson’s pack with Rae, Akeem, and Joseph.
This was something home-cooked.
Hair frizzy and unwashed, I stumbled from my bedroom in search of whatever was making my stomach growl.
Since returning, Hudson had completed a few renovations to the pack – including some expansions to the pack house, which is where we lived now. My bedroom was nothing compared to the ornate suite I’d had at the castle, and honestly, I was glad.
I didn’t need any more reminders that I no longer shared a life with my mate.
I followed the scent of fresh food all the way to the kitchens, but when I opened the door, my eyes widened at the sight of several familiar faces.
“Oh. Pack meeting. Right,” I muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my wrinkled clothes and unkempt hair.
Hudson, Rae, Akeem, Joseph and a handful of others milled around the kitchen, enjoying platters of food that had to be the work of Mrs. Butters.
I would’ve recognized those pigs-in-a-blanket anywhere.
“Ollie,” Hudson said, surprised but smiling. “I’m so glad you joined us. We just got started actually, you didn’t miss much.”
“Uh…yeah,” I said, and bee-lined straight for the snack table. “That’s definitely why I’m here. For the meeting. Of course.”
I snagged a plate and began loading it up with all kinds of goodies – wings, macaroni, and pot roast. My stomach grumbled in approval, and once I’d grabbed more than the paper plate could hold, I propped against the wall and dug in.
“Your Majesty, it’s so lovely of you to join us,” Akeem addressed me as I was mid-bite of pot roast.
The last thing I felt was royal right now, but Akeem was probably just being polite – and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I no longer wanted to be called that.
Instead, I swallowed the bite of food and said, “Uh, thank you.”
I hoped that would be the end of it but Akeem persisted. “I was hoping you might have some thoughts regarding how to handle Amara’s growing forces. She hasn’t made a direct move against any werewolf populations yet, but I assume it’s only a matter of time. I believe we should get ahead of the problem.”
Hudson nodded and more agreements rippled throughout the room as every eye turned to me.
Awaiting my response.
“Uh…” My mouth was as dry as a desert though I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the food. “We need to deal with…”
*Amara.*
The very thought of her name brought back images of her venomous smile as she cursed Ambrose, her eyes alight with power.
My grip on the plate tightened, the paper crumbling under my fingertips, and I slammed the food down onto the table before it ended up on the floor. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I just…”
I tried to take a deep breath in but it felt like my lungs wouldn’t work.
*Amara.*
*Amara cursing me.*
*Amara cursing Ambrose.*
*Amara taking my mate away.*
The images wouldn’t stop, and everyone was still looking at me. Waiting for me to say something, to be some sort of authority when I had none.
“I need to get out of here,” I mumbled, “I’m sorry.”
And then I fled through the back door before anyone could stop me.