Her lips curved into a sad smile. “You know I can’t do that . . . so I use my fear to drive me to kill the things that scare me.” She shrugged. “Maybe in helping rid the world of the darkness, someday I won’t be so afraid. Besides, it’s the right thing to do.”
I reached for a handful of chips. “What about the other part?”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Hmmm?”
“Hooking up with someone you can eventually settle down with. Don’t look at me like that,” I said when her green eyes glimmered with sadness. “Aric can’t be with you. You can’t be with him. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be with someone else. It doesn’t have to be true love, Ceel. Most humans do just fine with true like.”
Celia worked on making us more sandwiches, though it lacked her usual food prep enthusiasm. “You don’t understand. I can’t picture my life with anyone else. And what if it’s true, what if I really am his mate? I know I don’t fit into any category of preternatural or human, but doesn’t that mean he’s my mate, too?”
I stuffed the last bit of my bread in my mouth and reached for the plate she passed me. “Matehood is not all it’s cracked up to be, Ceel. My parents were mates. It wasn’t enough to save either of them when my father tried to turn my mother were.” I wrapped my knuckles against the cool counter. “Sometimes that love shit is dangerous. Makes you do things you shouldn’t.”
“So you don’t want it—to find a mate, I mean?”
No one had ever had the balls to ask me that. Maybe because I chased ass like it was my job and I needed a raise.
“Bren?”
“No. Yes. Well, sometimes.” I gripped the bottle of mustard. “I saw what my mom and dad had. Even though I was just a kid, I recognized its significance—its purity, you know?” I shook the mustard bottle hard. Goddamn thing was almost empty. I slammed it on the counter, pissed that none came out even though I wasn’t a big fan of mustard. “Emme described matehood as a rare and beautiful thing tonight. Maybe it’s too rare, and someone like me doesn’t get to have it.”
“You don’t think you deserve it.”
I stopped with the sandwich halfway in my mouth, not lovin’ the traces of pity in her voice. “A love like my parents had?” She nodded. “Hell, maybe I don’t. But then maybe that’s a good thing.”
Celia paused. I could see her wrestling with whether to ask her next question. I motioned with my hand, encouraging her to spit it out. “I’m sorry if I’m out of line here, Bren, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But why did your dad decide to turn your mother? Especially given that you were what? Twelve? The process kills most. They had to know they were risking their lives and your future.”
I polished off my sandwich instead of responding right away. Celia must’ve thought I decided not to answer. She didn’t push and resumed her meal.
Only Dan knew the “whoa is me” story of my f’d up life. But I knew I could trust this little feline. So I chugged my beer and spilled my guts like a little bitch. “It was my mother’s idea.” Celia glanced up, surprised by my comment and to hear me answering, I guess. “My dad was a pureblood who was stripped of status and every last dime of his fortune when he abandoned his pack to marry my human mother. She never forgave herself for the loss she caused him.” I huffed. “Even though he never blamed her and thought she was the best thing to walk into his life. When I came along, her guilt worsened. She felt like she’d deprived two wolves of their pack.” I stared at the empty bag of chips. “The shame was eating her alive . . . so I helped convince my dad that it was the best thing for all of us.”
“This wasn’t your fault, Bren,” Celia said quietly.
I ignored her as the last few moments with my parents flashed in my mind. Her limp and lifeless body crushed beneath his unmoving form, me tugging on their arms, yelling at them to get up, to breathe, and begging them not to leave me. I even reminded my dad I had a baseball game. Didn’t occur to me my schooling and my life were over.
“You okay?”
I nodded, though it was a damn lie. “You know, Ceel, in my mind I pictured the three of us running through the woods in our beast forms straight into the welcoming embrace of our pack. One big, goddamn family of lupines, panting and wagging our asses off.” I laughed bitterly. “Shit. I was such a stupid kid. When they died . . .” I shook my head, a vain effort to wrench the memory of my parents’ bodies being loaded into the meat wagon, and cleared my throat for all the good it did me. “After they left me . . . I went to the pack, just like my dad told me to do. He was sure they’d take me in. I was one of them, he’d told me. But the anger my dad’s Elders held against him for abandoning them remained. They showed me the door and slammed it behind me. I really thought . . . thought they’d be there for me, you know? And my parents? I thought they’d make it—beat the odds and all that shit.” I bowed my head and stared hard at the counter. “Hell, Celia, I’ve never been more wrong in my life. Those ass-hats wouldn’t even give my folks a burial. I never got the chance to say good-bye.”
I didn’t notice Celia move to my side until she curled her arms around mine and leaned her shoulder against my head. “The decision to turn your mother was wrong.” She stroked my arm when she felt me tense. “But it came from love, the love your mother had for you and your father. You may have swayed them in that direction—”
“There was no swaying, I damn well pushed!”
“Shhhh.” Celia’s voice grew quieter. “You only convinced your father because you loved your mother and because her torment hurt you as well. And in your mind, you weren’t risking your family, you were looking to expand it, to make it bigger and better.”
I shrugged. “I guess. But it still doesn’t change shit. Bottom line, I was still left alone. Without parents and without pack.”
“And still you survived.” She smiled and gave my arm another squeeze. “You’re one of the best people I know, Bren.”
“Aw hell, Ceel, you need to get out and get to know more people.”