Weâre sitting in a study with a large double bed in the corner that looks entirely out of place in an alcove, as though itâs a new addition, with the sub-pack eerily quiet as they all absorb everything we showed them outside.
Weâre all in slightly dazed moods as we digest the truth of our collective memories.
Itâs a small room with a bay window, an oversized couch, and an armchair cozily nestled in front of a rustic fireplace.
A sizable handmade desk sits off to the side, just in the nook of the window space, facing inward with a worn chair tucked behind.
Thereâs an entire wall lined with dark stained bookcases, crammed full of old leather-bound journals of varying shades of tan, brown, and black, with no titles on display.
I wonder what exactly is contained within the aged pages for them to bear no mark.
There are oddities and bottles of all kinds nestled among them, and facing that wall are three ample cupboards in matching deep wood that narrows the space considerably.
There isnât much floor to move around, yet it has a snug rather than crowded quality.
The décor of dark fall hues, golds, oranges, russets, and browns, rich in color, only makes the room close in on us more.
Especially with the heavy drapes at the window in dark-red velvet, blocking out what should be light, but itâs almost the middle of the night already, so thereâs a wall of black in the windowpane.
The lamps are dim, almost candle flickering in intensity, dotted sporadically around small side tables and shelves, and add to an eerie atmosphere as the pack all sit around nestled together.
Some of them are perched on the arms of chairs, lounging, while Colton stands by the fireplace, and Iâm lying down on the bed, out of the way, to get some rest.
The bedâs modern. I can tell by its comfort and the crisp, new bedding that it was put in here recently.
My body is weary and heavy, and it feels good to know what a comfy, safe bed feels like again.
Itâs been so long since I was in a room by choice, surrounded by people I care about in a safe space, and I can spread out and not have to be on high alert.
Weeks of living with tension and heightened senses are all coming to an end, and I realize how exhausted I am.
It feels beyond amazing not to have one eye behind me and one eye on my surroundings, worrying about my next meal or where to set up a good camp.
Colton moved us in here once theyâd seen everything they needed to see in our shared memories, and it was apparent they needed a little privacy to talk this out and calm down.
We were making a spectacle out front, and even though other pack members dispersed, we caught many gazing at windows.
The reactions varied, and I think theyâre all still reeling in shock and sadness at finding out they were raised with so many lies for so many years.
The man they trusted proved himself to be the villain in our own story. Despite it not being their family or their parents, I can imagine itâs still their pack, blood, and alpha.
It has to cut deep. The Santo pack has always been a proud close-knit unit, even for its massive size. Itâs how itâs lasted the test of generations.
Meadow sobbed, hugged me like she would crack every bone in my body.
Then she went into a Spanish rant that involved a lot of cussing for a solid ten minutes while she stomped around, throwing her hands in the air dramatically and pointing at the sky.
I think she was telling the Fates off for allowing all of this, but as Spanish is a language I never picked up, Iâve no idea.
She was animated and filled with fury, yet deep sadness as she stopped to catch her breath and cry some more.
Cesar quietly stared at me for the most extended moment until I felt almost uncomfortable, a thoughtful face etched with concern.
Then he apologized wholeheartedly for everything his âbloodâ had done to me for most of my life, right before moving in and giving me a tight embrace that genuinely felt good.
It was solid and real, and I could feel his genuine remorse for being part of the bond that took away all of mine. Cesar plays a paternal role in the subs, and for the first time, I felt like one of his pups.
The twins sat on the ground, overcome, and shook their heads in disbelief, lost, yet somehow enlightened simultaneously, and kept staring at each other, clearly mind-linking to question every detail.
They seemed to be the slowest at figuring out how it all pieced together, then just sat and looked bewildered.
They wore blank expressions except for wide eyes and downturned mouths. Sadness was evident in their aura.
Radar lost his shit completely, and I flinched when he growled out loud, cursed Juanâs name, and stormed off mid-rant, semi-turned into a wolf because he couldnât control it and gave us space.
His words were mumbled, yet I heard the name âSierraâ and how Juan kept her a prisoner of her own mind all these years and denied Radar his right to protect his luna.
Radar seemed the one with the most fury, but I guess, given how he feels about Sierra, then it makes sense he would react aggressively.
After Meadow was done cursing the Fates, he returned and stood silent and broody while occasionally staring at the ground in deep thought. His mind was in turmoil.
Mateo, as always, the calm within the group, kept questioning Colton, saying things like âI just canâtâ¦â and then turning over every detail as though he needed confirmation.
Emotionally, he seemed in disbelief, his manner calm, yet there was a look of heartbreak in his eyes at the fact their alpha lied to them all.
He stayed close to Colton, providing a sense of stable quiet when the others were in disarray.
Jesús vented loudly, at nothing, at everything, wandering in circles and talking to himself while kicking gravel across the drive with force.
He would return to the circle every so often, rub my head, and say, âLo siento mucho, niña.â
I think it means sorry, but Iâm unsure, and I didnât want to ask while everyone was visibly shaken.
Jesús has something of the dramatic about him, and his energy was bristling the air anytime he paced closeâthat need to hurt something for hurting his pack.
It was overly protective, and I could almost taste his desire for revenge against Juan.
Colton and I stood side-by-side, and he took my hand, waiting for them to have some time to let it absorb.
I stood blank-faced and numb, fatigue controlling my body. The only thing I could focus on was Coltonâs warm skin against mine and how it was so heartbreakingly right.
His touch, as always, killed me softly.
Now weâre all inside, nursing mugs of coffee, except me, as I declined and wanted to lie horizontally while they all bashed it out between them.
I need a little quiet and calm to let everything that has happened in the last two days settle and wash over me.
It feels like my head has been bombarded and knocked to hell, and somehow, Iâm mentally bruised and in need of soft, soothing silence.
Itâs quiet now, and they are all stuck in their minds, with the occasional infrequent sentence thrown out there, but mostly nods.
I think this may take more than a few short hours for them to grasp the enormity of the situation and the past. We still donât know what else Sierra will add to the pot, if anything.
It feels good to be back among them, though. The familiarity, the safety, and even though I was only part of their pack for a short time, I feel like Iâm home and back within the arms of my family.
Iâve wanted and ached for it for the last ten years of my life and never thought it would exist within the Santo pack, especially after finding out all of this about Juan.
Carmen is still not here, and Iâm starting to wonder if her absence has to do with the war on the mountain.
Colton said her father was Juanâs beta, so he would forbid her from coming here and maybe even held her hostage to make sure she didnât shame her family by following âthe traitor.â
I canât imagine that would have gone down well with Juan if his second-in-commandâs blood had followed his son off the mountain.
Juan already believes heâs more powerful than a mate bond. That would explain Coltonâs desire to start something with me, as though he didnât already have himself a femme tucked away.
He thinks his mate is unreachable, unattainable from circumstance, and a lost cause that he chose under pressure, and he believes he can ignore the bond and start afresh with me.
Because our emotional bond was never severed, and his feelings didnât change as he hoped.
Itâs not happening. The very thought of it chokes me to the core and makes my heart constrict and pulse painfully.
That uncomfortable heaviness in my gut reminds me I can never forget that he gave up on us and did what hurt me the most.
I canât move past the betrayal of what he did, and I definitely cannot become some tarnished femme willing to have someone elseâs mate just because she canât physically be here.
It makes me sick to my stomach that he would even ask that of me. Love means nothing when you are mate-bonded to another. Itâs against the rules, the pack laws, and my moral code. I deserve more.
âSo, what now? Alora is in danger if Juan now knows sheâs here. He may try to pull together enough wolves to attack the homestead!â Mateo says, breaking the silence.
He brings all eyes to him as he nestles in the armchair. His words get me out of my thoughts, and I sit up on one elbow to look at him.
My gut swirls a little, and anxiety sets in that my being here might just endanger everyone I love, more so than it already has, and I canât predict if thatâs true.
âNo. My mom life-linked to her. If anything happens to Alora, then my mom dies too, and as sheâs still bonded to my dad, itâll be his end. Heâs crazy but not stupid.
âHeâd never jeopardize his own life. He wonât attack because we outnumber him in terms of warriors, and he already lost at the mountain.
âThereâs no point in trying to get them back now. He knows we have the truth, and soon weâll spread it among our pack to set it free.
âContaining it wonât be his goal anymore, as he canât turn back time. The only threat now is Alora rising to fulfill the prophecy that he canât do a damn thing about.
âWe protect her. We keep her close within our circle, the same as the rest of us. We shield her and my mom. Theyâre the two most important people in this, and to me,â Colton says.
He turns and leans against the mantle and exhales heavily. Fatigue is showing on his face.
His face is pale with dark smudges under his lower lids, his body sagging instead of his usually confident, strong, tall posture.
He catches my eye across the room over the heads of those on the couch and gives me that soft smile that makes my heart giddy and my insides erupt in fluttering butterflies.
I look away quickly, my face flushing with the stupid reaction, and lie back down to avoid his eyes on me.
I donât want to constantly feel his pull, sending my body into crazy spins and tingles. I want to sleep and not feel and not be torn every second with this gnawing ache for him.
âRight now, all we have is time to kill. Itâll be a couple of days before we know how much recovery Sierra will need. It may be weeks before either of you is unbound.
âFor now, we need to spread this among the pack and let them decide whose side they are on. Hybrids have always been a secret, and now their leaders are mixes of the enemies they hold within them.
âThe pack needs to know everything, and after, those who are still here, and choose to stay, can never hold it against any of us againâwe are who we are,â Meadow says.
She gets up and stands beside Colton, turning to the rest of the pack and drawing my eye back across the room at them from my horizontal position.
What she says makes perfect sense, yet itâs utterly terrifying, outing everything to the rest of the pack.
By telling them what I am, what he is, what they are, and opening all out and laying it bare for them to choose which side they want to follow, we may lose everyone.
There has never been an outpouring of such honesty among this pack for decades under Juanâs rule. Some may not want to accept the truth.
âWe give them a choice until my mom wakes up to decide: stay and accept Alora and me or go back to the mountain to my dad, whom they might deem their true alpha if they think Iâm impure.
âFrom now on, no more secrets. We let the shaman teach what he knows to be true in the school hall, and whoever wants to know can join in,â Colton says.
His voice is hoarse, with a husky undertone of fatigue, and he rubs his hand over the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders before exhaling heavily.
Itâs a sign heâs stressing about this choice, but he knows itâs inevitable. His intentions are the right thing, but thereâs apprehension in him and fear the pack will up and leave when they see what he is.
What I am.