Season of the Wolf Pt. 02

I pull out my key chain and take the apartment key off the ring. I haven't got any rights to it. I think I kept it because at the time I needed to believe...the security of knowing I had someplace to go back to. Deep down inside though I think I knew I wasn't ever coming back. I hope returning the key helps to drive my point home with Christine.

I tuck the key into my jeans pocket. I'll give it back to Christine after the drama of our reunion is over. I'm braced for her tears and I've practiced the version of the truth I'm willing to share. By the time I'm done, she'll understand enough to realize my presence in L.A. is only temporary and that the reason I'm here is my business and not hers. If she wants to continue this friendship, she has no other choice but to accept everything I have to say and hopefully, she'll know better than to push it.

My resolve wavers as Christine throws open the door, bursts into tears, and drags me into a hug while hauling me into the apartment. On the verge of bawling myself, I hug her back. My nose wrinkles at the familiar smell of pack and the musky scent I've always associated with Christine. I wrench my body out of her hold and stare her down. I know a wolf when I smell one and Christine sure as hell smells like one to me.

Underneath the reek of the rose scented air freshener Christine and Rod used to hide their scents, I smell the aroma of pine, freshly mowed hay, and the earthiness of newly turned ground and smoky fallen leaves. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Christine asks, batting her eyes innocently. She has played stupid for the last time. My wolf slips her chain and comes out fighting. Oh, I manage to maintain my human form, just barely, but the aggression is all hers.

Christine didn't suddenly become a wolf. She has been one the entire damn time I've known her. I'm tired of the lies and misrepresentation so meaningfully engineered to protect me. She is pinned against the door faster than she can bat her baby blues a second time. I'm holding her with my forearm pressed so tightly against her throat she can barely draw breath. I don't know if she's working with Han or not. But, I know he has been here and I want to know why and where he is now. "Han," I growl.

"Grace," Christine gasps. "If you'll give me a chance to explain."

I shake Christine like a maraca on Cinco de Mayo. Rod is on his feet, bristling with rage at my rough treatment of Christine. His skin ripples as his humanity slips away and his wolf vies for control of their shared body. I don't know if I could take him or not, but my wolf is more than willing to try. My voice is harsh and gravelly, more belonging to a beast than a woman as I grit out the question again. "Where is he?"

Pack magic flows over my skin like cool water on a hot summer's day. My wolf sighs in contentment at the presence of her mate. Han has unleashed a bit of his alpha magic and my wolf responds like a goddamned puppy wagging her tail and rolling over for a belly scratch. The anger I used to pin Christine is quickly receding in the wake of calm and rightness I feel because of Han's nearness. "I'm here, Grace."

I release Christine and back away. My eyes dart between the three of them. Christine has recovered from my assault and I see nothing but hurt and desperation for me to forgive her on her expression. Rod is apologetic for his small part in this, but wary. And Han, all I can see in Han's eyes is his regret for his part in my deception and his love for me.

I want the strength I found in my rage, but can't quite manage it. I can't forgive them either. Whatever they've done, the lies they've told and how wrongly they've misjudged my capacity to understand and forgive. I know it's all been for something bigger than themselves. I want to believe Christine acted out of friendship. I want to believe that Han put himself at risk for me. And a small part of me does believe those things. But, it isn't a big enough piece of my innermost self. All I feel is exhaustion and confusion, betrayal and the pain of being part of something I never asked to be part of.

I slide down a wall and land on my ass. I can't look at them. I can't see past the things they've done no matter how good a reason they have. I stare at the floor and pick at an imaginary piece of lint on my jeans. I don't know what any of this means and I doubt everything I've ever thought was the truth. My parents. My friends. My family. My own innermost thoughts and feelings. "Why?"

Chapter 7

"I don't want to hear any more!" I'm shouting and definitely have command of the room. Stupidly, I've agreed to sit down and discuss everything with Christine and Han. So far, it hasn't gone very well. I've listened to their stories and I don't know what to believe. Every word that has come out of their mouths could be just another lie. Or perhaps, a truth divulged for no other purpose than to manipulate me.

I don't know who the bigger liar is, Christine or Han. Han at least could use his love as justification for lying to me. Christine...the woman has been manipulating me for years. We've known each other since our days of working fast food for extra cash in high school. I thought she was my friend. I thought she was honest. I know better now.

The whole frantic, dramatic, ditzy persona she's been feeding me for years is nothing more than an act. Han once accused me of seeing but not really opening my eyes. Well, they're wide open now. Christine should be in the running for an academy award for all the bullshit she's fed me. She isn't a dingy blonde. She isn't over the top with the drama. She's a cool, calculating woman who was only pretending to be my best friend.

Her betrayal isn't the one that hurts the most. It's the truth about my parents that cuts the deepest. Just like everybody else in my life, they weren't the people I thought they were. At this point, I doubt if they ever really loved me. They raised me out of duty to the cause. If they did care for me it was because of what I am and not who.

At least I understand the reasons behind my biological mother's death. She tried to leave and paid the price with her life. I can't hate Han or Christine for that. They had no part in it. The only person to hate is my father, but he's dead. I think Han was right. My father did die of a broken heart though he still lived. His guilt killed him just as effectively as the bullet he used to kill my mother.

I can't handle the burden of my mother's death on my shoulders. She was leaving with me. She wanted to go back home and maybe if it'd been just her, she could have. Possibly, she was the only person who truly loved me. And look at what happened to her.

There's only one factor to consider in this whole train wreck neatly labeled as the truth and it's me. Everything anyone has ever done has been for me. I'm not that important, not worth dying for or wasting years faking a friendship. I'm not worth the decades that Han spent waiting for me. I'd like to say I'm just a person, but I'm not. The wolf sharing my body makes that lie impossible to believe.

Rod isn't much in the kitchen. He has decided to retreat rather than get involved in this great reveal. I don't blame him. I'd keep out of it too, if I could. I pick at the burned edges of a grilled cheese sandwich and sip on weak coffee. Food might help soothe my wolf, if I could manage to eat. God knows the caffeine isn't helping the cause. It's just that I can barely think as I try to sift through the layers of lies in hopes of discovering the truth.

"Grace, please try to understand," Christine pleas. "You are my best friend. That is the truth. I...I was trying to protect you."

"From what?" I counter.

"Yourself. You weren't ready. But, your wolf was so close to the surface. For years I thought it was going to happen any day. I kept waiting and waiting. My pack, we don't live like Han. We decided a long time ago that it was safer to live individual lives than to group together as a pack. Better to risk the one for the sake of the many. Easier to blend in and hide in plain sight than to preserve tradition."

I grip my coffee mug and glare at Han and Christine. She sounds so convincing and I can see Han mulling over what she said. "How was I supposed to explain what I am? Think about it, Grace. To an outsider, it sounds pretty crazy. If my guess is right, you didn't believe Han until it happened to you. There you were living in the middle of all the proof you'd ever need and you still didn't really believe. I know how your mind works, Grace.

"I think you didn't shift because some part of you was closed off to the magic. My pack, we're close knit, but we only gather together when the moon rides us hard and the urge to shift is impossible to resist. Ninety percent of the time I'm in this form, but I must give my wolf her due. As we all must. As you must, Grace. Try to deny her for too long and she'll rip you apart.

"You needed Han to call your wolf out. You needed a tie to the land and to your pack and Han provided it. He did what I was too afraid for you to do. But, he did what he had to. Grace, I am your friend. Han is your friend. Blame us if you must. Remember though, at the end of the day it's only about one thing."

"And what's that?" I huff.

"Survival."

Han hasn't said much. He has let Christine do most of the talking. I can see him though hanging on every word and weighing his options. In so many ways he is processing his own betrayal. Everything he has ever done has been based on the truths he accepted as absolutes. He has lived his life by a set of rules that has never really applied. The lies I've been told sting. But, the lies he believed are devastating.

Nathaniel, the only father Han ever knew and his best friend lied. Josiah my father, the man that was so much like a son to him lied. Han's trust and faith, everything he ever believed is nothing but lies. I can see the hurt he tries so hard to hide. He's wondering, maybe hoping, that the people that abandoned the pack in preference to the real world are out there somewhere living their lives as humans and as wolves, perhaps in packs of their own.

I know Han and he'll choose hope over the pain of betrayal. He'll focus on the positives and the possibilities they represent rather then foster the ache of being lied to. At least, I have the consolation of knowing that I did what I came here to do. I've proven beyond any shadow of a doubt that there are others, more than anybody could have imagined, out here. And in doing that I've saved the pack. They no longer have to live in isolation and cling to an old way of life that eventually was going to lead to their extinction. They can roam and search out others like them. Start families and lives and build new traditions. But, I realize, as I'm certain Han does too. With all that freedom comes great risk.

I can't let my love for Han sway my decisions. I can't let my friendship with Christine influence me in any way. This is my life and I have to live it. Right now, I'm not sure what I want. I'm not the kind of person to hold grudges, but I'm not ready to let Christine and Han off the hook just yet. I don't know how much of what I think and feel is actually mine and how much of it is my wolf pulling the strings.

My wolf is utterly committed to Han and purrs like a kitten in his presence. She is curious about Rod and Christine and recognizes them for what they are. My wolf sifts through the scents in the air and inhales deeply of the musk of wolf. The scent calls to her and to me someplace deep inside that I'm not certain I'm really ready to deal with yet.

My old life wasn't much, but I find myself missing the blissful ignorance in which I lived. I miss the version of my best friend, the ditzy, dramatic, self-centered, over the top, frantic woman I thought Christine was. I miss the routine of going to my dead end job in the bookstore day after day. I miss my innocence and the comfort of just being me in my own skin and not having to share it with another being. I miss living my particular version of the truth. The version where everyone was human and nobody ever lied to me. I miss, for all its aches and pains and struggles, being human.

I don't know exactly what choices I have. I ran from the pack, from Han, but it seems I can't run from my wolf. Considering that everything Han told me was based on the lies he accepted as truths. I doubt if Han really knows my options or his, for that matter. I have smashed to bits the lore he thought was fact. Every choice he's ever made has been based on stories passed down from generation to generation. He's never once made a selfish decision. Everything has been for the greater good of the pack. I wonder what he will decide now that he knows that he can choose for himself.

As for me, I have something bigger than myself to guide my decisions. I'll do what I think is right for the baby. I just don't know what that is right now. Is it fair to raise a child in either one world or the other when he or she will need to learn to survive in both? Lying isn't the answer and I vow to the little life growing inside of me that I never will. I will tell my child the truth as best I know it. And one of the biggest truths is sitting across the room from me watching me through human eyes.

Han is my weakness. I want to crawl up into his lap and have him wrap those warm protective arms around me. I want him to kiss me until I'm senseless and all the hurt, confusion, and anger dissolve into nothing. I want back inside of the bubble where there was nothing but just the two of us. I want him.

I decide retreating for the night is the only option that makes sense. I can't tell Han about the baby until I know for certain. I can't talk to Christine and Rod. There's truly nothing more left to say. Everyone in this room has an ulterior motive for being in my life. Han's is love. Christine's is friendship. Rod's is his tie to Christine. I need out of this apartment and time away from them to think. For all I know, they could still be lying to me. I need to sort out my feelings and ferret out the truths for myself.

"Give me some space, please," I ask. "Christine, I'll call you when I'm ready to talk." I say pinning her with an expression that leaves no room for argument. "Han, you need to go home and tell everybody the truth. They deserve to know." Nobody makes a move to stop me as I throw my purse over my shoulder and head for the door. That's a good thing. My wolf is on edge and being cooked up in this apartment all day hasn't helped.

Chapter 8

Outside it's cold and raining. It's never really dark in L.A. and the streetlights cast their light down on muddy puddles. The mist on my cheeks and the burst of fresh air ruffling my hair helps to settle my wolf. Han is behind me. I can smell him and hear the splash of his footsteps against the sidewalk. "I said, go home."

His grip is hard on my elbow as he spins me around. Han is a big man, but I'm not intimidated by his size. I step back and refuse to tilt my chin to look up and meet him eye to eye. He stands about six-four and every inch of him is honed muscle. Rain drips off the ends of his dark hair and slides in rivulets down his sculpted face. His jaw is taut with restraint. "You speak of truths and lies," he accuses. "I've been completely honest with you."

"No you haven't," I hiss. "You only told me what you wanted me to know when you wanted me to know it. That's not honesty."

Han grits his teeth and drags me in line with his body. "You left without an explanation and you accuse me of being dishonest? I think you're the liar. You lie, not only to me but to yourself."

"I've never lied to you!" I shout above the pouring rain. The heat radiating off of Han and the closeness affect me far deeper than I want them to. He tilts his head and curves his spine so that our faces are inches apart. It'd be so easy to give in to the things that I secretly want. And in that moment, with the two of us so near and facing off against one another, I realize he is right. I have committed the worst kind of lie of all. I've lied to myself.

"Really?" Han releases me. "You tell me that holding back the truth until someone is ready to hear it is the same thing as lying. You can't hide it from me." His hands reach out to cup my cheek. Instinctively, I move into the warmth of his palms. He strokes my bottom lip gently with the pad of his thumb. He lifts my chin and draws my face up to meet his. "Where you go. I go. To hell with the pack, to hell with my life before I met you. I've waited a very long time for you and I won't give you up now."

His kiss is everything I've been missing. His lips are warm and soft and the feel of them against mine is the rightness of coming home after a long time away. He keeps the kiss controlled and deliberate. Drawing my response out of me with his whole body devoted to the act of a simple press of lips. I dissolve into him, inhaling his exhales and breathing my life into him. It becomes difficult to determine where Han begins and I end.

I open my mouth and greedily accept the invasion of his tongue. His hands find their way under my rain soaked jacket and the damp shirt beneath. The skin to skin contact has me forgetting that we're standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk kissing each other as if our lives depend on it. My wolf is howling in my head, scratching at my mind's surface in eagerness to bond with the male she knows is her mate. But, this moment doesn't belong to my wolf it belongs to me.

Han's palms skate across my curves and land to rest on my abdomen. His fingertips are gentle and soothing over my skin. His lips curl into a grin against my mouth and as if it were possible, he draws me even closer to him. Han breaks the kiss and lands a soft peck of his lips to my forehead. He was right to accuse me of doing the very same thing I've accused him of doing. I am holding back the truth until I'm certain he's ready to hear it and me, to tell it. "Han, I..."

"Shhh, it doesn't matter." He drops to his knees at my feet and lifts my shirt, resting his warm cheek against my stomach. My hands automatically go to his hair and I'm pushing the wet mass off his forehead. I think he might be crying. The rain masks his tears of happiness, gratitude, or maybe of relief. I can't tell. "Look what we made, Grace," he whispers in awe. "I didn't think it was possible to love anyone more than I love you, but now I know it is."

I try to pull back and distance myself from Han. He still deserves the chance to sort out his feelings for me. He needs to know that we're right for each other before this goes any further. If there's someone else out there for him, though the thought of him with another woman breaks my heart. He needs to know. Han believes he has only one soul mate. That there's only one woman out there for him and that it's me. I have to be sure. I owe him that for all the sacrifices he made for me.

"The baby doesn't change anything, Han."

Han lifts his cheek and begs me with his eyes. "No, it doesn't. Grace, there has always been only you and there will, always and forever, be only you."

"Don't you think you owe it to yourself to know for certain?"

"I already do. I think it is you who needs convinced more than I do. I accept the truth. You're the one who's fighting it."

"What do you mean?"

"I know what I am. By accepting me, by loving me, you'll have to accept and love yourself too. You'll be forced to come to terms with your true nature and that's what you're afraid of. I pushed you too hard too fast and for that I'm sorry. But, I can't regret it. You don't want these choices. You don't want to be what you truly are. Hate me if you must. Hate Christine and your parents, if it makes you feel better. But, don't hate yourself. If you can't manage anything else, love who and what you are. I do."