Chapter 37
Caspian’s POV
“You’d better come inside” Despite her harsh tone, Kiera gestures for me to enter her home, and for the first time in my life I hesitate. Would she be offering me the courtesy if I were anyone else? Are her actions signs of true interest, imposed respect, or fear?
“Do you really want me to?” I ask, not moving forward.
Kiera pauses, assessing me again. “No.” She quips honestly, “But I also don’t want to stand in the doorway for the neighborhood gossips to overhear our conversation – so you might as well.”
I glance around, realizing she’s right. Shifters of all breeds and walks of life are hovering in our periphery, looking on with curiosity as I stand in Kiera’s doorway.
Reluctantly stepping inside, I wait for the young woman to close the door behind us and circle in front of me before further invading the space, “We might not have sound-proofed walls and all the high-tech amenities of the pack house,” Kiera explains leading me down what can only be a basement staircase, “but it’s hard to hear anything underground.”
Photo frames depicting Kiera and her sisters and varying ages line the wall down the stairs, and it strikes me again how different this world is from my own. There aren’t any family photos in my house, not like these. “Thank you for seeing me, Kiera.”
She glances over her shoulder, eyes blazing, “If you’ve come to beg forgiveness for Viviane, don’t.”
“Do you have any idea how much fighting with you is hurting her?” I counter, waving off an offered glass of water.
“She doesn’t seem very hurt,” Kiera throws back bitterly, “strutting around school with your minions like she owns the place.”
“That isn’t fair and you know it.” I growl, watching with satisfaction as the angry feline’s hackles raise. “She hates the attention, she’s begging me to call them off, and she’s devastated that you’re angry with her.”
“She lied to me for five years!” Kiera bursts out furiously, her cheeks scarlet as she throws her arms out in outrage. Funny, her temper seems about as well controlled as mine. I wonder if Viviane does for her what Chase does for me, mellowing out a hot head and tendency towards aggression.
“Oh grow up,” I snap, not bothering to hold back my dominance. “Do you have any idea what she’s been through? Did you even give her time to explain before jumping down her throat?”
Kiera gapes at me, and as angry as I am at the woman for hurting my mate, I can’t help but find her genuine reactions endearing. “For your information, I did give her the chance.” Kiera defends herself fiercely, “I asked her to explain, but she wouldn't talk to me.”
I’ve only gleaned bits and pieces about the fight from Viviane, but based on what I’m seeing now, I have a sneaking suspicion why my mate hadn’t been able to tell her story. “Kiera,” I begin with deliberate patience, “Were you, by chance, shouting or expressing anger at Viviane when you asked her to explain?”
The cat looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, “Of course I was expressing anger, I’d just found out I didn’t even know my best friend.”
My wolf growls in my head, his protective instincts closing in on the oblivious woman venting before us. Sighing with the weight of the world on my shoulders, I instruct. “Sit down, Kiera.”
Bewilderment becomes exasperation, “What, no! This is m–”
My wolf speaks through my voice now, his snarl and mine fusing into one. “I said sit.”
Only once Kiera has reluctantly settled at a shabby table, do I force my wolf back far enough to speak evenly again. “I’m sorry for my tone.” I say, taking a seat across from her. “But there are a few things you have to understand about Viviane.”
“Oh, and I suppose you’re an expert on her after only a few weeks?” Kiera snipes.
Pushing down my wolf’s grumblings, I catch the sarcastic shifter in my crosshairs, “In all your years as friends, can you ever remember fighting or being angry with Viviane before.”
Huffing dramatically, Kiera crossed her arms over her chest and adopts a pensive expression. I can see the gears working in her mind, first delving through her memory for any occasion that fits my description, then trying again and again with increasing confusion when she cannot. “No.” She finally answers.
“That doesn’t seem odd to you?” I prompt. “Friends fight, after all.”
“No.” Kiera, draws the word out as she reasons her response, “We’ve never had a reason, Viviane is too sweet to…”
“To what, stand up for herself? Have any opinions that differ from your own?” I suggest.
“I take it you’ve got a point to make?” She prods impatiently.
“You’ve never fought because Viviane has made sure never to give you to.” I spell out coldly. “When someone is angry with her, she assumes she’s going to die, that is what her life taught her.” I elaborate bluntly. “Now, do you want to keep being defensive, or do you want to shut up and listen?”
Kiera’s POV
I go with Caspian when he leaves, everything I believed I understood about my best friend suddenly shaken to the core. He wouldn’t tell me much, insisting it was Viviane’s story to share, but he told me enough. Enough to make me feel like a monster for blowing up at her the way I did.
I’m ashamed of myself for losing my temper with my friend who – to the young Alpha’s point – has never said a cross word to me in the history of our friendship. However the worst part of this whole ordeal is knowing that at least some of my outrage came from a place of envy: envy, that her mate wants her when mine doesn’t know I exist. In the most wretched corner of my mind, I even resented her for spurning Caspian when I would do naked cartwheels to get Chase to show me a fraction of the attention Viviane’s received.
By the time we get to the pack house I’m crying, my tears going unnoticed beneath my motorcycle helmet and the gusting wind. When we dismount the wolf takes one look at me and shakes his head. “Pull yourself together.” He says, not unkindly. “If she sees you like this, you’ll set her off too and she’s done enough crying for a thousand lifetimes.”
Sniffling and shaking myself briskly, I take a few deep breaths, slowly bringing myself under control until Caspian nods in approval and leads me inside.
The last time we were in the pack house, my only thought had been of Chase, now I barely see him as I walk past, holding my head high. My lynx drags my feet like a furry anchor, urging me to stay behind and say hello to my mate, but I ignore her. For the first time, I feel a soft tug from outside my body, a pull that feels like my lynx’s but not. Still I do not pause, following the future Alpha until we reach a locked door on the second floor.
He knocks, pushing me in front of him as soft footsteps sound within. Viviane must have been expecting one of the wolves, because true surprise paints her expression when she sees me.
Originally I planned on acting dignified and calm, making my apologies and then giving Viviane the listening ear she deserved in the first place, but all that goes out the window when I see her. I will never look at my friend the same way after all the horrible things Caspian told me, but that’s okay. I don’t view her with pity, I simply feel like I’m seeing her as she truly is for the first time.
Before she can say a word, I throw my arms around her, squeezing with all my might. “I’m so sorry.”
I listen to Viviane’s story long into the night, feeling so overwhelmed I cannot even begin to process the hell her life has been. While Caspian told me the scars so many years of abuse left on my friend, he never described the abuse himself. He did warn me how difficult it would be to hear, but I still think he undersold it.
To think I’d been jealous of Viviane only hours ago. Resentful and petty and spiteful. “I was a bitch.”
Viviane, unsurprisingly, looks scandalized by this assertion, “you were not, you had every right to be upset.”
“I was a raving bitch.” I repeat sternly, “You have no idea the horrible, unkind things…” I trail off, unable to admit those most secret, hateful thoughts. “and I treated you so cruelly when you were clearly distressed.”
“We all think terrible things sometimes.” Viviane consoles, reaching for my hand, “And you didn’t know. If I’d only told you…”
“I didn’t think.” I correct firmly, “anyone with half a brain would have realized the larger context and–”
“That’s it, I’ve heard enough.” Marina is standing in the kitchen doorway, eyeing us both with disapproval, “I might not have shifter senses girls, but I can hear across rooms.” She clarifies when we look confused. To be fair, we thought she was asleep, not deaf. “You two have to stop blaming yourselves for things that aren’t your fault.”
“That isn’t–” I cut myself off at sight of the mermaids fierce expression. “Yes, you jumped to conclusions and weren’t particularly sensitive, but you were upset. And yes,” She turns to Viviane, “you could have told Kiera sooner, but you had a lot of very good reasons not to – including following your mother’s rules.” Marina adds, straightening up loftily, “But those aren’t crimes. The only people who should be apologizing and making reparations are out there,” She points to the locked door.
“Mom, Caspian is–”
“You’re not even talking to Caspian, and he’s the only one doing anything to help us.” Marina reminds her.
“She’s right.” I murmur, “He really is trying, Viv.”
“I know.” Viviane says to her lap, “But I can’t forgive him. Not until he stops treating me like a toy, and starts treating me like an equal.”
