“Terrible accident,” he grunts out, but I don’t miss how he gulps down the rest of his beer in one swig.
My heart drops at the way he’s already given in. There’s no one to challenge or question what happened to her, just me, and what can I do against so many? I feel even more alone than before. I want to be mad, but how can I really blame him? None of us are what we used to be. Burke’s made sure of that, made sure to turn our pack into a distrusting, cowardly lot who turn a blind eye to everything wrong.
When his beer is gone, Hess pivots to look at me again. “You nervous?”
I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about. “Yeah,” I reply with a nod, my fingers picking at the label on the bottle. “I mean, I obviously knew this day was coming, and I’m excited to finally get my wolf. But doing it without Mom or Dad…”
“You’ll be fine.”
I cut him a look. “The Flux can be agonizing. Some people die.”
That used to be my biggest fear about the ceremony, that I wouldn’t be strong enough to take on my wolf, but now, it’s Burke that floods me with trepidation and dread.
Hess shrugs and scratches the stubble over his chin, wiry gray hairs starting to mix in with the dark blond. “Yeah, maybe so. But for some people, it’s like being able to breathe right for the first time. Your mom for instance. When she got her wolf, she just smiled and sighed, like she finally felt at home in her own skin.”
My lips tug. “That sounds like her.”
The rain seems to slow its drizzle as I take another drink, the bitter bubbles pairing well with the tepid sadness inside of me. This is nice, actually. Sitting here with Hess, the one person left in this pack who’d actually talk to me about her. Maybe this is his olive leaf, maybe he’s showing me that even though she’s gone, I’m not alone.
“Did your mom go over what you can expect?” he asks, and I can tell the question makes him feel uncomfortable. I nearly laugh at his venture into the Totemic Wolves birds and the bees talk, but he’s off the hook. I’m aware of how it all goes down.
“Yeah, I know about the rituals and the preparation. That the Spirit Weaver will call down the wolf spirits and then give the bite to draw the wolf inside of the person it chooses.” I look down at my forearm as if I can already see the mark that will be there. “The Weaver will sing the old songs of our shifter ancestors while the pack offers fresh meat to the wolf spirits.”
I purposefully leave out the rest about the pain, potential death, and the first shift if the Flux is successful. I also leave out everything my mom explained about claimings and wolf nature, and how the spirits we protect inside of us can drive us instinctually, more or less overriding logic or the human thought processes.
Hess nods, and the kitchen grows quiet again as he stares unseeing at the floor. I wonder what he’s thinking about, but the look in his eyes tells me it’s deep and personal, so I leave him to it. We’re not close enough for me to go there.
I tip back my beer, finishing it off with a couple of deep pulls, wishing it would help make all of this go away, but Hess was right. It’s not my first beer, and I have too high a tolerance for this to do anything anyway. I suppose that’s a good thing though. As much as I’d love a drunken escape, Burke is on the hunt, and I can’t take the risk of being black-out vulnerable around him.
“Seneca,” Hess starts, and I can tell by the way my name falls out of his mouth that whatever he’s about to say is going to suck. He releases a deep breath and turns to look at me, his gray eyes filled with pain so raw it makes my breath catch. “I’m leaving the Twin Rivers pack,” he announces, and it feels like a kick to the gut.
Surprise and disbelief war for my attention and my shoulders sag slightly with defeat. Just when I think I can’t be any more alone and exposed, my last line of defense against the predators here announces he’s leaving. Heat crawls up my throat,