12
“Who knew you would turn out to be this gifted?” the familiar snooty female voice behind me startles out of my absentminded manipulation of the trees and I turn in surprise, bristling slightly, to face Carmen as she stands behind me. Hands on her hip as she stares at the forest over my head and seems almost impressed for a moment. I was so engrossed and honed in on what I was doing that I neither felt her or sensed her which I guess is not a good thing. I tune in on her and sense her tension, locking my eye on her pale blues as she hesitates and looks away submissively.
I experience a ripple of satisfaction and a small glow of smugness that at least in six months she has learned who not to mess with. The tables are turned and now I am no longer fading in her shadow. I’m a force to reckon with now.
“Yup, who knew?” I respond drily, hostility brimming and unsure why she seems to have sought me out. Or if she has just wandered here and accidently bumped into me.
It’s rare I get any time alone, and the front entryway to the homestead is usually my go to for some head space, as no one but the patrols venture out here normally. The village is out back, sheltered in the homestead shadow, and where all life and soul thrives. I focus my full blank attention on her sharp and pointed but annoyingly pretty face, hoping for intimidation and a huge flashing ‘back off’ vibe. I am in no mood for her and the bubbling green eyed me is in there trying to slither up and slap her down. Her fair hair shields half her delicate face as she moves her hands to cross over her ample bust on that slender figure and I honestly hate the fact she is actually attractive as a femme. At least I can see what Colton dated her for.
“Look…. I know you and I have had our ups and downs. I just wanted to say that I won’t cause any problems. I know how things are. You’re mates, it’s done. I’m just another femme from the pack now, and I respect your position as Luna. I’m sorry for everything before. I just want a calmer life and no drama, and I don’t intend to create any.” Carmen lowers her eyes and nods, to show her submission, her posture loosening as though trying to act like she isn’t as stiff and stressed as I can feel, and I frown at her warily. My gut tightening in knots because this is the last wolf on the planet I would ever willingly shake hands with. Well, besides Juan!
“Are you being nice because you’re afraid of what I’ll do if you disrespect me, or because you have actually realized what a bitch you were to me?” Direct and blunt, to match my mood. No attempt at being hospitable when really, she doesn’t deserve it at all. I know I don’t have to be civil to her if I don’t want to be, there are no rules saying a Luna has to love all. She’s staying with my pack, but it doesn’t mean I have to like her, and it’s not like anyone will challenge me on my coldness. She deserves way more than a moody Alora!
“A little bit of both, I guess. I’m not suggesting we become best friends, I’m just saying…. I’m thankful you let me in and didn’t turn us away, and I don’t intend to give you reason to be sent back to the mountain. The past is the past, I’m not proud but you have to understand how heartbroken I was. I’ve had time to let it go.” She turns her face back to me, no hint of deviousness in those pale almond shaped eyes, Her cheeks are naturally rosy as though she’s blushing, or seething inwardly, and yet there’s not a hint of malice or bad feeling coming from her at all. I think she’s being honest.
I don’t want to dwell of any of the before, I turn my face away and shrug, indicating I don’t want to dwell on it either or talk it out with her. It was another time, feels like a lifetime ago and I don’t want to revisit old hurts where Colton is concerned. We’re happy now, we’re together, that’s all that matters. She just needs to stay on her own side of the line and leave us on ours.
“So what motivated it? Weren’t you a sworn stayer in Juan’s army?” I ask bitchily, not sure I like Carmen’s attempts at playing nice when I don’t trust her at all. Not softening in the slightest, even with apologies and oaths to play nice.
“I was always going to follow Colton; I was there that day and saw him defeat his dad. I tried to leave with the pack but my mom, she wouldn’t leave with me, and by the time I tried to convince her my dad showed up and put an end to it. My mom isn’t strong, she lives in his shadow, she’s naïve and maybe a little too innocent. I couldn’t leave her with him to be ground down and trampled over. You don’t know how he is.” Her clear, almost husky voice, cracks a little and I blink her way seeing a tiny chink in the confident armor she wears like a shroud.
I waiver a little in my coolness when I see that soft warmth in her eyes when talking about her Mom, and yet there’s something raw and almost painful when she says the word Dad. Although the most surprising part is how hard it is to believe someone like Carmen came from someone sweet and feeble. She’s a born bitch. I can’t imagine she came from someone weak.
“And now?” I fix her with a direct stare. Not moving an inch in my stubbornness or me haughty tone. Not really wanting to dig apart or figure out the puzzle sin her emotions. I just want her to walk off and leave me to my trees.
“She saw the truth…. One of the pack passed on the memories of your wolves; I guess we had an infiltrator. Then my mom confronted my dad and demanded to see the past in his own minds eye, he refused but my mom has a gift… she can extract memories of the sleeping and dead without their consent and I never thought she would be brave enough to do it.” She looks down at the ground in an instant wave of emotion, her eyes brimming with sudden tears and she swallows hard. “We saw what they did to your family, to your pack…. The actions of one, spreading its poison to the many in the people we trusted. My mom couldn’t take it. She broke and I knew if we stayed my dad would send her someplace to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid… like end her own life.” The tear rolls down Carmen’s cheek, her body bristling as she feels it and she stubbornly straightens up and wipes it away harshly. In that second, she looks like a lost child, trying to act tough in the face of adversity and despite everything. I am moved.
The curse of the Luna in having compassion for her people, and my own gift of feeling her emotions out. Her pain bruises my heart and winds through my veins like a prickly cold icicle, aching, and hurting me deeply. Reminiscent of grieving my mom and my family and I reach out instinctively and touch her shoulder. Cursing myself inwardly for this insane compassion that grows in me the longer I lead our people. I swear at myself mentally for showing her softness.
“She’s lucky she has you. To care for her and bring her here. You did the right thing.” I soothe, moving into maternal mode of appeasing and gentle with my tone then bite my own tongue for being a weak assed bitch. I really disappoint myself sometimes. Who knew Luna gifts would be my nemesis when it came to this girl.
