18
Amira
Jane was trying to hide who her mate was. The silence between us felt heavy and thick. I could see the walls she had built around herself. These walls were made of secrets and shame.
Every part of me wanted to break through those walls. I wanted to shake the truth from her lips. But I couldn’t do that.
I wouldn’t become another person who forced her to speak. I wouldn’t become another voice asking for pieces of her soul when she wasn’t ready to give them.
I didn’t want to force or bully her into telling us, either. I didn’t want her to hate me or stay away from me. But I couldn’t shake off the curiosity that ate at me like a living thing. The unease followed close behind. It whispered terrible things in my mind.
From the little Jane had shared, he had sounded dangerous and cruel. He had sounded like a nightmare that came to life. The kind of monster who would look at someone as pure as Jane and choose to destroy instead of love.
I worried about the impact he had had on her. I wanted to scream at how unfair this all was.
Despite my need to push and demand answers, I respected Jane’s decision to keep that part of her life private. I focused on the happiness she had found within our pack.
I wouldn’t force her if she felt it would be better not to tell me. I wouldn’t be another person who took her choices away. Goddess knew she had had enough of that.
I was pissed off when she told me about her mate and how he had treated her at the club. When she had told me about that night, fury had burned through me. It had made my hands shake and my vision blur with rage.
What a monster he was. He was a jerk in the form of a man. He was cruel to reject a wonderful creation like her. What kind of creature pretending to be a man could have looked at Jane and chosen to be cruel?
She was everything beautiful in this world. She was everything any good person would have fallen to their knees to protect.
I hoped my mate wouldn’t be someone like him. The thought of my own mate scared me now. What if he was just like that monster?
What if the Moon Goddess had a twisted sense of humor? What if she paired me with someone who saw love as weakness and kindness as an invitation to hurt others?
If so, I would have put him in his place immediately. If my mate had turned out to be anything like that monster, I’d have broken him. I’d have made him understand that Jane’s pain had taught me exactly what I wouldn’t accept.
Jane was such a sweet girl that every man would have prayed to have her as their mate. She had deserved to be worshipped, not destroyed. Not having a wolf didn’t mean she wouldn’t be strong.
She had deserved someone who saw her lack of a wolf not as something wrong, but as proof of how strong her human spirit was.
Someone who understood that strength wasn’t always about shifting into a wolf. Sometimes it was about getting up every morning when rejection was crushing your shoulders.
I was happy that she was now my father’s female warrior. No one would ever look down on her again. No one would have dared whisper about her behind their hands.
And I hoped she would find her second chance mate. A mate who would be interested in her. A mate who would genuinely love and accept her for who she was.
I was happy she was a warrior now, but sad that she was always too busy to keep me company. My pride was mixed with grief so deep it took my breath away. She had found her strength, yes, but she had lost herself in the process.
She no longer had time to hang out with the girls or even have small discussions with us. The girl who used to laugh until she couldn’t breathe was disappearing.
The girl who would stay up all night talking about everything and nothing was being replaced by someone harder.
Heaven, I missed her so much. I missed my best friend, Jane. I missed her with an ache that felt like someone had died.
The Next Day
“Jane, I miss you.” I rushed to hug her when I saw her coming. I had run toward her like a child who needed comfort. When my arms closed around her, she had felt smaller somehow.
“I miss you too, honey,” she replied, returning the hug. She had whispered this, and for just a moment, she had melted into my arms like she used to. Like she had remembered what it felt like to be held without conditions.
“Where are you coming from, Jane?” I asked, though I had already known the answer. It was always the same now.
“I’m coming from the training ground,” she responded.
“Again, Jane,” I exclaimed. “You have to take things easy, honey. Please don’t kill yourself trying to become someone you think you need to be. You need some rest, for Goddess’s sake. When was the last time you slept through the night? I don’t know why you train every day.”
“I need it,” she answered. Those three simple words had contained so much pain. “It has already adapted to my body. I want to be stronger.”
Stronger. Like she hadn’t already been the strongest person I knew. Like surviving rejection and heartbreak and everyone’s expectations hadn’t been strength enough.