Who is Magpie?

Their meeting with the counsel ended early, as Jessamine had lost about a year solid of time, and before that she wasn’t on the same tea. Most of the first year she had been locked up, and training or studying when she wasn’t. The memories she did have of that time felt like they occurred while she was drunk. Before that, other than her memory of being chased and begging for help, an odd memory of Shepherd’s Pie, and somewhere called Wachiana, everything else from her life before the Garden was gone.

In the Garden during her lost year, she could vaguely recall feeling sick a lot, which went along with the feeling of being hungover, and some memories of staring at wooden or concrete ceilings in a pain that prevented her from moving. She encouraged them to pull out records of things that had happened with photos of locations to maybe trigger something she had forgotten, but no one had expected her to remember as much as she did. If she was honest, neither did she, but once she started talking it felt like opening the flood gates to all the secrets she had held in.

Every dinner Bronx left first, and Jessamine left first after every meeting to go change before heading to work out with Ezekiel. This time as she did it, she kicked the leg of Bronx’s chair with her crutch before kissing Ezekiel and leaving.

He eyed Bronx knowingly as she left. “She’s just getting more pissed off with every day you avoid her. Pretty sure she hit me in her sleep last night thinking it was you. You’re probably lucky her ankle is taking so long to heal or your ass would be grass by now.”

Bronx sighed heavily, feeling the weight in his chest and knowing what he needed to do. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered before trudging up to her room with feet as heavy as cinder blocks.

When he got there the first door was open ajar, but the second was closed, and when he finally noticed he was too lazy to turn back to ring the doorbell. Pushing the door open, he saw Jessamine beating a mound of pillows and blankets with a broken crutch.

“Jessamine,” he began and she whirled around, brandishing the top half of the crutch to strike him.

He caught the weak aluminum in his hand, and when she saw him and met his gaze she let go of her end. Her eyes looked full of tears that wouldn’t fall and she had bit a small welt into her bottom lip with one canine.

“I broke it,” she muttered, backing to lean on the bed, “it got stuck on the stairs and I pulled too hard.”

He wanted to move in and comfort her, give her a hug, something, but he remained where he stood. “It’s okay, we have others, I can get you another set.”

“I don’t care, this fucking ankle isn’t getting any better. I might as well chop it off and replace it if I’m ever going to walk and fight again.” She huffed and accidentally put weight on it making her whole body flinch away, then she threw her hands up. “But then I won’t have a leg when I shift, and I’ll have to relearn how to walk as a wolf.”

“It will heal, give it time,” he assured, putting the crutch down on the table.

She shook her head as she looked down. “I know Dr. Pon was well over estimating so I wouldn’t get antsy…. I’m just so angry, all the time. Like I can never catch my breath.”

“That’s my fault.” Bronx began and she looked up, their eyes burrowed deeply into each others. “I was selfish, and I thought the problem would just go away, but it’s clear to me now that it will only get worse.”

“What did you do?” Her voice was small, smaller than he had ever heard it as she worried.

He moved toward her, cupping her cheek in his hand like it was the last time he’d ever see her and pressed her hand to his chest. “You need to formally reject me.”

“What?.. WhAT!?” She gasped looking at him. “Reject you for what?”

“As your mate, you need to say the words.”

“Ezekiel is my mate,” she blurted out, head thick with confusion.

Bronx nodded. “Yes, he is now. But I was before… when you used to call me ‘mo coille’.” My forest.

She could remember calling him that at the dinner, but didn’t know why she had done it. “Last week? You’re not making any sense.”

He nodded in understanding her confusion. “No before,… before the Garden.” He braved himself for the slap he knew was coming and it wasn’t for nothing.

Her hand struck across his face so quick he would have missed the action if it wasn’t for the pain.

“You knew me before?” She rasped the words out, forcing them out around the knot in her throat.

He nodded, anticipating her to hit him again but when he opened his eyes she was just staring. Her nose was turning red, quiet sniffles sounding as she breathed and she tried to keep the tears back.

“What do you mean?”

“You were four when I first met you, you screamed and I went to check on you. It was just a bug, but you were so scared. I squished it for you but then you wanted to hold a funeral. I thought it was so stupid, but we dug a small hole in the garden and you said something crazy like ‘I hope you come back as a carrot so I’m not scared of you’,” he chuckled softly but Jessamine’s expression brought him back.

“Before my dad died? When I was still in a pack?” She asked desperately.

He nodded. “I felt like I had to protect you, but then your mom took you away and you grew up not knowing me… when I got older I felt drawn to you, I’d wind up at the same mall or movie theatre as you all the time, but I didn’t know what to say.. do you remember what I said at the card night, that I did volunteer at a human summer camp? Wachiana, that was the name of the camp. I saw you there every summer for a few years, and I waited for your wolf to recognize me, but it never did. We know why now, but one summer you just weren’t there.

The next time I saw you it was in the paper and you were missing. You had changed so much when you showed up here, it broke me when I figured out who you were and didn’t feel the same pull. Your demeanour, your look,,.. when you started to smell like lilies I could remember my feelings, but it got stronger when you bit me that day in the shower, on the full moon.”

Jessamine’s hands had begun trembling, working themselves together in her lap as she had moved to sit on the bed. Her heart thundered in her chest and, with her unsure how to feel, she was left with a blank expression.

“…. You’re my…” she began and stopped. “You told me you couldn’t feel me. This whole time….”

“You are mated to my brother. He is the Alpha, and he can keep you safe. Not only do you not need me anymore, but you have someone else. You feel so angry all the time because the old bond between us was relit and we haven’t claimed or rejected each other. Your wolf is uneasy. The only way to stop it, is to cut the tie completely.” He took her hand in his gently. “Please, I need you to do this. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough.. but I will if you can’t, only for you. I’ll be strong enough for you.”

Her mouth felt like she had eaten a toffee. “No,” she garbled out and Bronx nodded, running his tongue over his back teeth where he bit it and nodded.

He nodded again and began, “I, Bronteslav Ashford, reject y..”

“No!” She yelled louder, reaching up to cover his mouth.

The no’s continued to spill from her mouth even as she stopped being aware she was saying them. He seised all his movements while she collected herself, his hand had long since left her cheek and now both arms hung uselessly from his sides. She became lost in thought, playing over everything in her head that made more sense now.

“Jessamine…”

“No!” She shouted. “No, don’t say another word.”

“Jessamine..”

“Get out! Go! Out!”

“Jess….”

“Now!”

Bronx sighed deeply, keeping his mouth shut, as he made his way over to the door. He closed them both behind him, looking down as the conversation played back in his head. As the second door clicked closed a certain lump returned to his throat.

A growl greeted him on the other side. “What exactly did you say to Jessamine!”