Fate Succumbs - Page 60/73

Finally, he looked at me. “What makes you think one cancels out the other?”

“Liam, you can’t seriously believe I’m some destined leader sent to save the race or whatever. That’s crap, and you know it.”

And there was the annoyance and anger I was looking for. “Why? Why is it crap?”

“Because it is! There isn’t any such thing as fated paths and destined leaders.”

“And if I believe there is?”

I sagged against the counter. “Come on, Liam. You said it yourself. You don’t believe in fate. You’re not Alex.”

“No, I’m not.” He turned back to the stove and stabbed the eggs with excessive force. “Too bad you didn’t remember that sooner.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

More egg stabbing. I considered doing a little stabbing of my own.

“You are so pissing me off.” Although, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure if it was the fact he was being a giant pain in the ass, or if it was because I could feel the force of his anger pulsing through me. It was probably a combination of both. “Will you just turn the Hades around and talk to me?”

He slammed the skillet onto the counter, his shoulders caving in as he dragged in a breath. “This is wrong,” he told the eggs.

“Is this about the mating thing?” I could be brave and bring this up, right? “Listen, Liam, I think our wolves somehow made the choice for us, and--”

“This is wrong!” He wheeled from the counter. The moment his eyes met mine, he dropped them. “You’re Alex’s mate. He chose you. He loved you.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Alex is dead.” I don’t know who was more shocked and appalled by the callous way the words fell from my mouth, Liam or me. I do know the sword of pain stabbing my heart had two edges, one for each of us. And I know that when he walked out of the kitchen and away from me, I had to let him.

***

I don’t deal well with straight-forward rejection. The whole rejection en masse thing? Eh. No big. People, in general, suck. I don’t really give a crap what they think about me. But I did care what Liam thought. A lot. A whole, whole lot. The more I thought about it, the more I cared, and the more it hurt.

For three days we avoided one another as much as possible. In the rare instances when we found ourselves forced to be in the same room together, like when his Aunt Rachel came to check on us, we adopted façades of apathy. My wandering eyes and carefully blank express didn’t betray my wounded ego any more than Liam’s bored scowl showed his true anger.

I don’t know how or why he ended up in the living room where I was immersed in a Downton Abbey marathon. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention, or maybe it was intentional. Whatever the case, one minute I was watching Professor McGonagall snip at some poor lady, and the next I couldn’t tell you if there was a naked Jensen Ackles on the screen or not because Liam was standing in the doorway.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I said without turning around, certain he would disappear like a ghost. “Me either.” I remembered sleep. I wanted sleep. It just wasn’t happening.

Without saying anything, he left. I knew he would. What I didn’t expect was for him to come back.

“Liam?” I turned to find a wolf peering over the arm of the chair. “Oh. Hey you.” I rubbed my hand over his head, and then dipped down to press a kiss there. “You know this is cheating, right?”

The wolf barked and backed up a couple of steps. Fully understanding his intent, because I was like Dr. Doolittle or something, I got up and followed him. We ended up back in my room. That night, for the first time since our little discussion in the kitchen, I got a full night of deep sleep. He was gone the next morning, but his scent still clung to my pillows.

***

“If you put your weight on your right foot in the second turn, you would get more force behind the kick.”

I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Well, mostly to get the sweat off my forehead. It also did a great job of hiding my face long enough for me to school my expression.

“I don’t have time,” I said, turning towards him with a perfectly bland face. “I’m coming off the roundhouse. I’ll lose my balance.”

Liam rubbed the back of his head, the first slip in his own carefully constructed mask.

“Make it a part of the same move. The momentum will keep you going. Here…” He walked up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. “Start the roundhouse…” I brought my leg up with exaggerated slowness. “…And as you bring this foot down…” Liam shifted my hips with his hands, which I wasn’t expecting at all. As a result, I toppled right into him, catching myself by grabbing onto his shoulders.

He looked down. I looked up. Our faces were only inches apart. I could feel his breath sliding against my lips--

A knock pounded on the front door.

I didn’t know if I wanted to kill or kiss whoever it was for interrupting. I saw the merit in both as I trailed behind Liam down the hallway. We were only a few feet away when I caught their scent.

“We come in peace,” said a voice I knew as well as my own.

Liam had enough good sense to move out of the way as I flung myself through the door. Jase caught me around the waist, our momentum driving us straight into Toby.

“Whoa, calm down. Someone might think you’re happy to see me,” he said as I sobbed against his shoulder, unable to catch my breath the tears were coming so hard. “Scout, those are happy tears, right?”

“I missed you,” was my garbled reply.

“Hey, I missed you, too.” He squeezed me harder, and then I felt another arm slung across my back as the smell of Talley’s shampoo tickled my nose. Someone rubbed a hand over my hair, and another squeezed my shoulder. And then there was another pair of arms joining into our group hug and I finally found a reason to pull back from my brother.

I tried to say his name, but only some sort of embarrassing bleating noise came out. It didn’t matter. Charlie always knew what I meant anyway and had seen me a complete sobbing mess many times over the past eighteen years.

“Hey, shhhhh….” He pressed a soft kiss against my forehead. “It’s okay. We’re here. It’s okay.”

It took me longer than I care to admit to pull it together. I almost had it at one point, but then I made the mistake of noticing how Toby’s eyes weren’t one hundred percent dry, and lost it again. By the time I could form real words, everyone had shed at least a tear or two.