Chapter 107

#Chapter 107 – By the Fire Victor meets with his lieutenants for hours, conversing with them endlessly over the details of camp, the new Rogues that have petitioned to join the pack as Betas, the plans they have for the future. Alvin and I spend those hours wandering around and taking in the sites, watching the Betas run around in their groups. Ian stays steadfastly by Victor’s side, soaking in every word.

When Alvin and I return from our sightseeing, I can’t help but smile at Ian’s rapt little face. I think we’ve figured out, for sure, what part of the pack leadership he will be eager to take over when he’s older.

Alvin looks a little worried – this is the first time that they haven’t passionately shared an interest. I run a hand over his hair and give him a wink. “What do you say, buddy,” I whisper. “Shall we light a fire in the pit?”

“Yes!” he says, excited, and runs over to the box marked “fire supplies.”

Usually, Ian wouldn’t miss an event like this, but he’s too wrapped up in Victor’s world right now to notice.

Alvin and I collect wood and dry grass, stacking it carefully in the metal ring. Then I show him how to use flint and steel to strike a spark. It takes him a long time to get the knack of it, but I encourage patience – we have the time.

Soon, we have a roaring little fire going, and I can tell that he is proud. We set up chairs around the fire and, eventually, a kind Beta woman brings us some barbeque supplies. Alvin and I spit some hotdogs on metal spikes and set them in the fire to roast.

Perhaps drawn by the lovely smell, Ian eventually comes out to sit with us. His father follows shortly after, having had his final meeting.

“All done?” I ask, smiling up at him.

“Yes,” he says, pulling his fingers through his hair. “Thank god. I’m exhausted. I knew it was going to be a difficult plan to pull off, the incorporation of the Rogues,” he says. “But I can handle a little hard work.”

“I love hard work,” Ian says, grabbing a roll for his hotdog, “When it has to do with the Betas. I can’t wait to be Alpha!”

“I like hard work too,” Alvin says, a little quieter, more tentative. I pull him close in a hug.

We pass a pleasant evening like this, cooking our dinner and desert over the fire, Victor telling us about his younger years, about how he convinced his father to have documents forged which would allowed him to join the American Navy when he was only 17. He was a Navy SEAL by the time he was 19, but he deserted the Navy quietly after his father’s accident so that he could take over the pack.

I chew my food and listen quietly, fascinated by his stories and by the fact that, again, he has depths to him that I never knew existed.

The boys droop quickly, overwhelmed by such a long day. When their eyes start to close, Victor and I carry them in and tuck them into their little cot beds. Then, we head back out to the fire.

“I didn’t know any of that, about your life,” I say quietly to Victor. I think I assumed that his life had been much like mine, or Joyce’s: just a lot of seclusion from the rest of the world. But it explains why Victor is a bit of a marvel, for such a young Alpha. By 19 he had done what others wouldn’t complete by the time they were forty.

He shrugs in response to my comment. “I’m sure there’s lots about your younger years that I don’t know,” he says, taking a bite of Ian’s leftover s’more.

I shake my head. “You met me when I was twenty-two, and then it was baby land after that. You know everything there is to know about me.”

He smirks and looks me in the eye. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

I laugh and lift my leg from where it’s folded in my chair, kicking him a little. “What, what do you mean?”

I ask, wondering what he’s thinking about.

“You’re largely a mystery, Evelyn,” he says, dropping his gaze. “You play things quite close to the chest.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, if I ever heard it,” I say, a little sarcastic.

“Yes,” he agrees. “But I’m not used to others being a mystery. Amelia…I always knew what Amelia wanted. Or if she was being sneaky, then when I found out what she was doing, it always made sense.

You, Evelyn…a little sphynx, if I ever met one.”

I smile, biting my lip, not being able to help feeling a little complimented. “Okay,” I say. “Just for one night, then, I’m an open book. Ask me anything you want to know. And tomorrow? Back to a sphynxish silence.”

He pokes a little fire a little and then returns his steady gaze to me. “How did you really feel, that night.

After the Hunt. Did you really want me to go?”

My stomach drops at this, all playfulness gone. The one question I didn’t want him to ask. Or…perhaps the only one I really want to talk about, but for which I just can’t find the right words.

“I…it was complicated, Victor,” I say, rambling a little, trying to find my own footing in my thoughts. “I know it was wrong, I know it should never have happened. But…I can’t say I regret it. And does it look different now, after all the wedding stuff?” I bite my lip, considering. “Well, no.”

He blinks at me, surprised. “What? It doesn’t?”

“Well, does it for you?” I ask, a little surprised.

“You told me to go because I was going to marry her, Evelyn,” he says. “I…didn’t marry her.”

“But you would have,” I whisper, staring at his face, memorizing it. Around us, the night fades away, like we’re the only two people in the universe now. “You were at the altar, Victor, waiting for her. If she hadn’t done one horrible thing, if she’s just skipped being a jerk to Ian and Alvin that day, you would have married her.”

He shakes his head. “But I didn’t,” he insists. “I realized the mistake, I realized that she’s horrible, I ended it, I rejected her –“

I nod, understanding. “But,” I speak slowly, hoping that he will understand “You still didn’t pick me,” I whisper.

“You told me not to!” He raises his voice now, clearly frustrated. “That night, in your kitchen, you told me to go!”

“I know,” I say, tears filling my eyes. “I know I told you to. And then you did.”

He shakes his head, and I can tell he feels confused and betrayed. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to get beyond it, Victor,” I whisper. “The fact that you picked her over me. The fact that she was your mate – that your body chose her – in a way that it didn’t chose me. If anything were to happen now, I would always be your second choice.”

Victor scoffs, and I can tell that he is angry now. I feel so, so guilty.

“Your second choice,” he huffs. “And so what, now even if I –“

I interrupt him, not wanting to hear anything more, knowing I won’t be able to bear it. “I was always Edgar’s first choice.” I say it gently, knowing it will wound him.

Victor shakes his head from side to side, disbelieving. “Evelyn, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been married, or I’ve been engaged, or you’ve been with Edgar. We’ve never even had a chance.” He spits the last word out, like grit between his teeth.

“I know,” I say, leaning forward and putting a hand on his arm. “Maybe it’s the universe…giving us a message. That it’s not supposed to happen.”

“Or maybe,” He says, turning his face to mine. We’re so close now, only inches apart. “It’s you being afraid. Of just how good this could be. Because he is safe. God, Evelyn,” he says, raising his hand to hold my cheek softly against it. “What are you afraid of?”

His words hurt – I don’t like to think myself a coward – and I feel myself growing angry. I open my mouth to tell him precisely what I think of that when we both hear someone clear his throat.

We turn, almost as one, to see Edgar standing by the edge of the fire, my cheek still cupped in Victor’s hand.