K
atya
I wake to fingers gently moving my hair aside. Opening my eyes, I find Mateo leaning over me. I smile up at him, and he leans down, pressing his lips to mine softly before gently nipping my bottom lip.
“Morning,” I greet him, and he chuckles.
“It’s the middle of the day,” he whispers before fiddling with something. I look down to see what he is doing, but I can only see his hands underneath my chin. He pulls them away, and a chain scrapes against my neck as he turns it, making me look down to see my pumpkin necklace.
“You found it?” I whisper, rubbing my thumb over the gold pumpkin, relief floods me that they found the last thing my mother ever gave me. Looking down at it, I became choked with emotion, I thought it was funny when she gave it to me, but now it was my most cherished possession representing my parents.
“One of the men on patrol found it the other day and gave it to Ezra,” he replies before pulling on the thin chain and holding up a blue jewel that had been added to it.
“And this, this is a piece of your mom,” he says, making my eyes snap to his in confusion. “I had some of your mother’s ashes made into a stone, so you could always have her with you,” Mateo tells me with a smile.
“That’s my mom?” I whisper when he leans over to the bedside table and retrieves a box. He hands it to me, and I pull the lid off to find a silver urn. It has a wolf engraving on the side. I swallow the lump forming in my throat, threatening to choke me.
My beautiful, strong mother was reduced to nothing but ash. It was hard to picture someone like her sitting in the cold silver urn before me. I never imagined life without her, and now I have to face a future without her in it. I chew my lip to stop it from quivering.
Mateo cups my cheek with his hand, tipping my head up. His thumb pries my lip from between my teeth. “Thank you,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say. What else could I possibly say when someone hands you your dead mother? Words fail me, and I can’t stop touching the sapphire pendant hanging around my neck.
“She will always be with you. Remember the good things about her. Her death doesn’t define her, so don’t let it,” Mateo stresses before kissing my forehead.
“Where is Ezra?” I ask before seeing movement behind Mateo.
“Right here,” he answers. Ezra leans against the bedroom door. I knew he was mindlinking, his eyes glazed over, before refocusing on the room and returning to their normal caramel color.
He looks troubled as he strides over before leaning down and brushing my lips softly with his. He pulls away to quickly glance at Mateo.
“Is everything okay?” I ask
He nods. “Yes, I need to shower. I will be out in a second,” he assures me, turning on his heel and walking into the bathroom.
I try to feel for his emotions, but he has put a wall up, blocking me out for some reason.
Mateo stares at the bathroom door before realizing I am watching him, and he turns to face me. “He is fine. He just heard back from patrol, nothing to worry about, he will let you know if you need to.”
I nod, climbing out of bed and getting dressed. Grabbing a gray tank top and some denim shorts, I pull them on. I feel great, and have this weird sensation of feeling whole, making me wonder if the forged bond is the cause. Yet, something is off that I can’t put my finger on. Shaking my head at the strange feeling, I decided to ask Kora. My brows furrow as I try to remember the last time I spoke to her, maybe she is giving me space. But that thought doesn’t sit right with me. She hadn’t even shared any of her usual slew of dirty commentary and images during the time with our mates.
“Kora,” I think, pulling on the barriers of my mind to find them gone, the realization is a little unsettling, like she has just disappeared, making me wonder where she went. My mind only has my thoughts in it. I shake the feeling away, knowing she will pop her head up sooner or later. It’s not like she could go anywhere, I chuckle to myself, knowing I am being silly. “The pack run is still going ahead tonight?” I ask as Ezra comes out of the shower.
“Yes, we need some excitement around here. Maybe next week I will let everyone back in the packhouse on Thursdays, if you are okay with it,” Ezra asks me, and I nod. I just want things to go back to normal.
“I think it’s a good idea,” I confirm when the doorbell rings downstairs.
Walking down the stairs to the second level, I look over the landing, and spot a figure standing outside the frosted glass beside the door. Descending the second-floor stairs, I head for the door, tossing it open, and stare shocked at Angie standing there, her back is to me as she looks around. She jumps, turning when she hears the door open.
Her lip trembles and her hands shake as she reaches for me, I step back, eyeing her. “Kat!” she murmurs, letting out a breath of relief. “Look, I know I shouldn’t be here, but please let me explain.”
“No!” I snarl before I attempt to close the door.
“Kat, please,” she pleads, and the desperation is clear in her voice. I crack open the door, and she lets out a breath. Mateo and Ezra race down the stairs behind me.
“I told you to stay away from the packhouse, Angie,” Ezra growls at her as he stalks down the steps, she bares her neck to him, and he growls deeper, but I step aside, letting her in and motioning for her to step inside. Ezra shoots me a look, grits his teeth, but says nothing more.
“I just want to explain, I will tell you whatever you want to know.” She turns to look at me. “Please just hear me out, Kat,” Angie begs again, and I motion with my hand for her to step away from the door, so I can close it. She steps aside, her eyes on Ezra and Mateo as if she is waiting for them to do something.
Ezra shakes his head, clearly not happy. “Don’t leave her alone with her, I need to go take care of something,” Ezra orders Mateo, stalking over to the hallway stand and grabbing his car keys from the white glass bowl that sat on top. He glares at Angie, but doesn’t say anything more to her. Mateo gives him a nod before Ezra slips out the door, closing it behind him.
I glance at Angie, she chews her nails nervously. “Come on then,” I tell her, walking off toward the kitchen.
“Go on, you want to talk to her,” Mateo prompts, and I glance over my shoulder to see Angie dart after me.