Waindale

Adam leads the way up the porch steps and to the front door. He knocks then peers back at me. I stand like a child who has been called to the principal’s office. I’ll do whatever they want as long as I’m not in trouble. I’ll agree to anything as long as things can continue between Adam and I. Hollow footsteps sound inside and grow louder. Through the fogged and distorted glass window on the door, I watch a figure reach for the handle and push down. A woman is revealed on the other side. “Adam,” she says, her voice unwavering.

“Mother.”

I take in a sharp breath. Her gaze glides to me. “Hello,” I say, trying my best to sound relaxed. “I’m Wrenley.”

“Of course,” his mother says, not overtly obvious about her distaste, but the hints are there, hidden in the layers. “Come in, I want this to be quick. I think that’s what’s best.”

I look down as I enter the house. Adam closes the door behind us, his presence being the only thing keeping me from shriveling into nothing. His mother takes us into a formal living room where the furniture is curved and tough. She sits in the center of the small loveseat and leaves Adam and I to take either chair. I sit and close my legs and straighten my back and do all I can recall from movies. With her sitting in front of me, I can get a better look at who I’m dealing with. The woman’s appearance doesn’t settle my nerves, though. There isn’t a hair out of place on her blonde head. Adam must look more like his father.

“So, Adam, this is your mate,” she says and flashes her eyes at me as if she understands everything about me from a glance.

“This is Wrenley. Yes, she is my mate.”

His mother nods. “How old are you, honey?”

“I’m eighteen years old,” I answer, wondering where his father is.

She takes a dramatic breath, short, quick. “Alright. And—why don’t we just cut to the chase here—you’re human. You are not one of us, but you have been told every secret, am I right?”

Before I can answer, she continues. “Look, honey, I’m not here to listen to my son rant on and on about how much he needs you. I’m going to tell you exactly why this bond between the two of you will never work. If we somehow manage to look over the fact that you are human, and that it is completely unheard of to have your kind take the role of Luna, well, then we will get to a painful truth. The Alpha and I have only one son left as Adam knows very well. For the bloodline to—”

“You will not bring this up,” Adam cuts her off.

“Adam, please. Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

Adam shakes his head. “This is inappropriate. I will not have it. Come on, Wrenley. We’re leaving.”

He stands up and comes to me, ready to take me away, but I stay put. I look directly at his mother. “What is it?”

His mother can’t help but show a little smile. “Wrenley, for our family bloodline to continue, my son must conceive. You understand, don’t you? The issue is that if he were to impregnate your human body, the baby would die. It cannot survive in your womb. I’m sure the process will take a toll on your body as well as you would be trying to grow a child that you physically cannot.”

I hear Adam walking behind me. As much as I want to crawl under my bed and never come out, I hold in my feelings and say, “Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m glad you understand, honey. I think it’s best if you live the life you were meant to live, and my son can do the same.”

The front door shuts and I look back to find that Adam has left. “I’ll be going now,” I mutter and hold my coat to my chest. I hurry out of the house. The need to vomit bubbles up in my stomach, and I’m sure his mother wouldn’t like it if I did so all over her pretty rug.

Once the open-air rushes against me, once I’m fleeing down the porch steps, my upset stomach subsides a bit. I look up and see Adam by the truck, but I stay at the bottom of the steps and grab onto the railing post. My fingers scratch against the painted wood as I fail to patch together any sort of sentence. His gaze is aimed one way and mine another.

I feel like I was just punched in the gut. Everything that Adam and I have been building has been blown down by that—that heartless wicked wolf. Never have I been so embarrassed in my life. Thinking about Adam and I like that—it’s too much. It’s all too much far too soon.

He told me not to run no matter what, yet all I can think about is dashing off into the trees. I’m eighteen for goodness sake! If my mom knew about this, she would throw me in the car and drive until we hit the East Coast. She would dye my hair, change my name, and tell me every night about the ruthless waters of motherhood. She would—she would kill me! Impregnating? Babies? I-I—

I steady myself when my knees buckle. Adam looks my way and I promptly push off the railing, peer to the ground and wander to the opposite side of the truck. My heart beats heavily as I fight my mind to fixate on something else, anything but Adam and I...

“Wrenley,” he says carefully, walking over. I jump like a startled deer and take three swift steps. “This is my fault. I knew she wasn’t going to be welcoming, but I didn’t think she’d be so abrupt. I had no idea that such a topic—”

“Please,” I stop him, avoiding eye contact. “I can’t even begin to process any of that. I-I need a minute.”

My feet carry me on an abstract path around the car and the yard and the road. The first time I look back to Adam, he’s sat on the porch steps. The second time, he’s pacing while on the phone. Our gazes meet and I tear mine away. As I wander, I try to find the courage that I entered the house with. Being with Adam feels as it did back when I first met him—awkward due to complete awareness. Sure, mates do what people in love do, but love isn’t so blunt. Love is dressed up with special moments and restless dreams and the blindness of passion; this—whatever his mother described—is a corporate job that I’ve been deemed unqualified for.

I’m too young to view such things as a job to get done. Hell, such things are supposed to be unraveled and cherished. It’s supposed to be special. Am I wrong? Am I being naive?

I glimpse over as he hangs up the phone. Knowing that we can’t stay here all day, I ball my hands into tight fists and walk over. I get into the truck and he reads my signals, following and getting in himself. My legs press nervously together, my body stiff as he shuts the door.

“I think I should go home,” I murmur. “My mom is probably worried.”

Adam watches the house in front of us. I do the same. “I don’t want this to ruin our progress,” he says. “Maybe I should have mentioned that beforehand.”

“It was too much.”

“I know,” he breathes. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have brought you here.”

“I know,” I say. “But I don’t blame you.”

“How do I fix things? How do I make it better?”

I look at him. “I don’t know. I just—no one told me. I’ve been going about this like I have a chance, but I don’t. I don’t because of something neither of us can change.”

Adam turns his body to me, his eyes washing over my discomfort. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that there’s no way around this. Your mother is right.”

“None of that matters. Don’t worry about such things.”

“It does matter. Your mother explained it as clear as day. It’s easier if we just stop now before we get too attached,” I mutter, hating the words as they leave my lips. “I had no right joining your world. I have to live the life I’m supposed to live.”

Adam’s face hardens. “The life you’re supposed to live includes me. The life I’m supposed to live includes you. We were already too attached the second you entered Waindale.”

“What am I supposed to say, Adam? This isn’t what I want anymore? You have to do what’s best for your pack?”

“I don’t want you to say anything. None of this is relevant.”

“For now it isn’t. But it will be because that is what a Luna does, right? A human Luna is as good as a barren queen, and when time runs out, when all of this is relevant, it’ll destroy me. You’ll need something I can’t give you, and it will destroy me. I have to be selfish. We wear down the bond before it grows any stronger and try to move on. It was a mistake to give into it in the first place.”

Adam is silent. I notice his hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white and veins plump. My aching stomach has been torn from my body at this point. My words seem even more brutal than his mother’s.

“No,” he says.

“Adam—”

“No. I won’t hear another word about it.”

I sigh and roll my gaze to the window beside me. Clouds are starting to blow in again, grey and heavy like a full sponge. I grab my phone from my jacket pocket and see missed calls and messages from my mom. My hand drops to my lap with my phone gripped in it. There’s no part of me that wants to answer her right now. It’s cruel of me. I drag her into this mess only to run off with Adam, leaving her to digest the biggest plate of confusion and nonsense.

All of this is bizarre. We haven’t even had a proper kiss yet and suddenly we’re being ripped apart by my incapable reproductive organs. This is why I avoided boys for so long. Why is it my fault? Why do I immediately blame my body?

Adam glances to me. “I meant what I said.”

“No? Yeah, I got it.”

Knowing that I’m being sarcastic, he shakes his head and starts the truck. Hot air blows in my face, but this time I shut the small vents. “I meant what I said when I told you that I don’t care what you are. I stand by our bond.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I murmur.

“Wrenley,” he says and brings his hand down on my leg. My eyes fall to the connection, glaring, wishing his touch could just feel normal.

“You don’t understand what this is like for me,” I say, keeping my gaze on his hand. “You said that all I’m feeling is mutual, but it’s not. I just feel unworthy, and I shouldn’t. Obviously, I can’t have a baby that isn’t human. That’s not my fault. My body is normal. It does what it’s supposed to do, but here I am, feeling like a failure. I-I can’t help it. You can’t just say that it’s not relevant because it really doesn’t feel that way.” I look up at him. “I don’t want to feel less-than anymore.”

Adam takes his hand from my thigh. He sits back and mutters, “The last thing I want is for you to feel this way.”

I know it’s my battle. I don’t think there’s anything he can say to assure me that my humanness isn’t a problem. It was getting better, though, before his mother shoved me back to the starting line. Adam said that when he becomes Alpha, his parents won’t be a problem for us, so hopefully she won’t be there to keep me in that dark place. Running away isn’t an option, I know that. I have to find my strength and make it through these next few days.

All I can do is hope that Adam’s words hold true.