Chapter 13 13
RANDOM FACTS: Rowan Draken has made blueberry pie exactly twelve times in his life. Once for his wife when she was pregnant with their daughter. Once for her when she was pregnant with Riven. And ten times this past week, trying to remember the recipe well enough to get it right. He still hasn't.
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“Riven. You have to come out of your room. Your friend is very worried about you,”
Rowan’s voice calls for me through the door but I don't want to answer.
It has been a whole week now and hiding under this blanket feels like the safest thing to do after what had happened the night.
And Claire…
Fuck, I don’t know how I’m supposed to face her looking the way I am. Feeling the way that I am.
Especially with the fact that I know I need to shower, that I have to… but my body refuses to move because his pheromones are drenched all over me and my room.
Yes, my stupid sense of smell is gone, but I know it.
My entire being feels so calm, like I could stay in here and never have to leave, waiting for him to come spread by legs and fuck me again.
I can’t stop thinking about last night.
He… he filled every inch of me. And it hurt. But it was the kind of pain that made me realize one thing about myself.
I’m a classified whore.
I liked how he didn’t ask how to fuck me, or how he treated me. He tossed and turned me like a fucking ragdoll.
I want to be upset. I want to hate him. How dare he?
But fuck it felt so good.
My eyes move down, my boner already showing proof that I am already losing my fucking mind.
He is not good news.
He… appears everywhere I am, threatens me, treats me like I’m not some fucking person that deserves common respect…
And has an eleven inch dick that has me seeing stars and I can’t stop thinking about it.
I can barely even remember that night but… but I can’t forget the feelings swirling through every inch of my body as his hands wrapped around my neck, keeping me in place. Or how short of breath I was when he shoved himself deeper, taking out every breath I made while he fucked me back to reality.
I always feel so… unwanted and like I didn’t belong anywhere, but being under him while he fucked like he wanted to make sure no one else would want me after this because I was his.
I need it again.
And I hate it.
“Riven. What if I send her home so we may talk privately?” Rowan’s voice came again. Softer. “I am sure you have questions, yes? I can help.”
Questions. Yes.
Like, how the fuck he stopped time? Why is he here? Did he really come to see me when I was twelve? Am I sick?
Why has he not come to see me since then?
Was it because I asked him to get me pregnant?
The knock comes again, softer this time. “I called her Mate to come pick her. I made some blueberry pie. I am not… certain if it’s still your favorite meal but I think it will help a bit. Whenever you’re ready to come down, I’ll be waiting,”
I don’t want to see him. I hate him. It’s all his fault somehow. The way I feel. The way my body aches so dramatically.
But in minutes, I am downstairs— the blanket draped around my body even though I feel like I’m about to fall ill from how hot I feel, watching as Rowan places a saucer in front of me with a slice of pie on it. “I hope you enjoy it. Been trying my hand out on it ever since I returned but I’m not sure—”
“Why did you return?” My voice sounds rough, like something is wound tightly around it.
I can smell the blueberry pie— something I haven’t tasted in years and I want it. Maybe it’ll make me stop feeling like I’m empty. Like I’ve lost some great important part of myself if I stuff myself with food and not his dick. “And don’t say some… some bullshit like, I needed you now because I needed you then. All those many years ago, and you weren’t there.”
“You are right, Riven,” He says, his eyes holding sadness in them as he nods. “I understand all of these things. My presence now will never make up for all the things that I have missed, but I am not here to give my excuse for not being a good grandfather. I am here to make sure you’re okay,”
“You don’t care if I’m okay.”
“Everything I have ever done for you is to make sure that you are,”
“Even leaving me?”
“Yes.”
The fact that he doesn’t hesitate to say it twists something in my chest. I grip the blanket tighter, trying to stop the pain welling in my chest. I should scream and throw this stupid plate of pie at his face because I know there’s no fucking reason to abandon a child.
But I don’t. Instead, all I manage to say is, “Who is— What is he?”
“A very powerful being who has lived many years and very little as well,” Then Rowan slowly moves to a chair opposite me, his eyes crinkling. “I think… the first thing you should at least know wherever shadows are, he is as well. He… listens through it when he can. And we will have someone staying here for a while.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“You have met Astoria, I’m sure—”
“The freak?” I already know who it is. Like every hair on my body standing erect at the mere thought of whoever that person is being so close in the first place. “No, no. This is my house. There is so much I can control about shadows but I will not let some random person into my house.”
“You can tell him how you feel.” Rowan says.
His response catches me off guard as all the rage inside me gives away as I say, “What? You… why aren’t you the one talking to him? You’re my grandfather, aren’t you?”
Rowan looks at me with those sad, patient eyes, and for a moment, he doesn't answer. He just sits there, the steam from the pie curling between us, and I hate that I'm waiting for his response. I hate that I care.
"Because," He says slowly, "He knows you are not a child anymore. He might… consider the words that leave my lips but my life holds no value to him. The only person he will listen to… is you. Because he is bound to you, Riven,”
“Bound?” The word echoes through my head again and again like a siren until it finally clicks, my head shaking slightly, “No.”
“Surely you must have known you had a Mate.”
“How would I have known when no one was here to tell me?” The word is spat out of my mouth like venom. I see the hurt flash in his eyes but I don’t stop. “I did not have… I did not have my puberty the way everyone else did. I did not have a scent. I could not tell what was what. I did not… I did not know a single thing! Why in hell's name, would I think I could have something as normal as a mate for someone as abnormal as me?!”
A Mate.
It was believed that when the moon goddess, Ixhel, saw the Earth, she fell for its beauty and magnificence, and one day, decided to walk around it in a form she felt comfortable in.
A wolf form.
But her husband, the sky god, grew jealous of his wife's happiness and as all gods tended to do, tore her into millions of pieces and scattered her across the Earth so she would never be whole enough to find that same happiness.
Still, she had been smart.
Ixhel imbued her essence into each piece— these pieces forming the first wolves.
Together, they bore her longing, her feral desire for life and freedom and with a bond that they could not resist, end up in each other's arms— a silent desire of the Moon goddess to be whole again.
It was a story I held hard to my chest when I was little, believing that one day, someone would actually want me. Want to be with me.
Love me even if I was incomplete and wrong.
But I didn’t have my scent. How would I know?
“Do you remember what happened before we came here? To Garouihl?”
I feel my blood run cold. “No.”
Rowan stares at me, his eyes twinkling with unsaid emotions but all he does is sigh as he says, “You are not like… them, Riven. These people, or any person. And for many years, I tried my hardest to see how I could help you when the time would come, but I have seen it is not in my place to. That the only person who can help you, is him,”
“So what?” I can’t help the nervous scoff that leaves my lips as I shrug even though I’m fighting back tears now. “I’m a charity case?”
“No.” He says, his voice soft. “You are much more than that. You are the one thing that can kill Kael Veyne.”