Chapter 71

Shirley

No.

No. It’s impossible.

You’re wrong, I tell Cicy, my body beginning to shake. There’s no way.

I can sense it, Cicy tells me in return, unbothered by my efforts to calm her.

He can’t be, I insist. You’re just confused.

That’s all this was - confusion. Cicy had to be mistaken, misreading signs. And maybe she was just hopeful due to the other mating bonds we’d witnessed lately - even Jean’s that we literally watched snap into place. However, Cicy’s excitement over Keith’s possibility of being my mate formed my own confusion.

For years - or even for as long as I could remember - Cicy and I had been in agreement that mating bonds were a waste of time. Neither of us wanted one, and now she’s singing a different tune, disrupting our peace.

It’s nothing, I tell her then. Just confusion.

I’m not confused, Cicy snaps back, but still I’m not convinced. His scent, his touch. I can’t resist its temptation - even if it's vague.

Vague. I hold onto that word, Cicy’s admittance. It’s all I can rely on as I’m still adamant that she’s wrong.

But what if she’s right?

My arms wrap around my body as I allow that one thought to slither its way into my mind. I’m still in denial, but I can’t ignore the truth - a wolf’s senses are hardly ever wrong. Even if Cicy isn't one hundred percent certain that Keith is my mate, there’s still a good chance that she’s right.

And I don’t know what to do if she is. I’ve spent weeks, practically months denying what I feel for Keith, but I know I can’t ignore them anymore. I’m drawn to him. Only, I’m not sure that’s enough for me to want the mating bond to be real.

I’m uncertain if that’s what I want. Feelings or not, I’ve spent my whole life holding onto this promise to myself - that I wouldn’t waste my time fretting over a mating bond. Not after what I’d seen from my parents and watched their resentment for one another only grow and grow. I can’t live that way.

So Cicy has to be wrong. She has to be.

And that’s what I keep telling her as I climb into bed, trying not to cry as I’m sick to my stomach.

~

I’m keeping my distance from Keith. In fact, I don’t even look in his direction during the meeting the following morning. It greatly displeases Cicy as all she wants is for me to cross the room and be close to him, but I resist her every demand.

Even once the meeting is over, I slip out of the room without a single word, feeling a pair of eyes on my back as I go. But I keep the distance, only adding more as I decide impulsively to leave the house entirely. I need to keep my head clear, and decide that the afternoon’s work can be taken care of at a cafe instead.

When I arrive there, I can breathe easier, still ignoring Cicy’s grumbling as I attend to my email. I try to quiet the pounding in my ears each time I see Keith’s name written at the bottom of correspondence or sitting within my other tabs.

After an hour of work, I begin to notice my stomach begin to groan in hunger, my throat dry as I’m in need of water. It causes me to head to the counter to put in an order. I keep it simple, asking the man working for just a small pastry and bottle of water.

“Alright,” he says as he finishes punching in the order. “That will be $7.35.”

Following his words, I reach into my bag, my fingers searching for my wallet, but they only hit the empty bottom of the tote. Dread hits me then.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I seem to have forgotten my wallet.”

“Ah,” the man begins. “Sorry, miss.”

I watch as he starts to clear my order, obviously not willing to give me what I asked for since I have no way of paying. However, as I watch him, I feel another hint of hunger find me, my brain wondering if old tricks will still carry me home.

Releasing a sigh, I prepare for my task ahead, my hands already reaching for the glasses sitting across my face. Once they’re off, I look back at the man, batting my eyelashes just as he meets my gaze.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you can do for me?” I ask with a sexy smile - the one that always starts it all off. I wait for the man’s expression to change, for him to answer my call.

And his features do shift, but they do not fall into the same lazy and infatuated smile I’m used to. Instead, his brow becomes furrowed as he blinks at me.

“No, ma’am,” he tells me, this time a little firmer. “We can’t just provide free food. Against policy.”

It’s impossible to keep the shock off my face as his words hit me. However, it’s soon outweighed by the wave of embarrassment crashing over me, my hands quickly putting my glasses back in place.

“Sorry,” I throw out, but I’m already fleeing. I snatch my computer from my table before I rush out the door.

When I reach the sidewalk, my chest is practically heaving as I continue frantic steps, trying to make sense of what just happened.

My charm…it didn’t work. I don’t understand it. There’s only one other time that has happened to me and that was when Keith had brushed me off like I was nothing. Every other time I’ve used it, I’ve had success to some degree, but now there was just…nothing.

How is that possible? What the hell has happened to my charm? It’s like I can’t even access it. I even try my hand at trying to win the favor of men I randomly pass by on the street as I lower my glasses a little and hit them with sultry grins. But still, they only reciprocate my smiles with politeness before they carry on their way.

Something is wrong, I tell myself. Something is very wrong.

~

I’m frustrated. Beyond frustrated when I return back to Keith’s. After the afternoon’s failed attempts, I’m left confused and even exhausted as I still don’t know what’s going on. I practically storm through the house, wanting to go look at myself in the mirror as if I’ll be able to spot a difference in my eyes. However, I never quite make it there.

“Shirley?”

I stop in my tracks as I hear Keith’s voice, turning to see him in the living room. The very sight of him has Cicy perking up, practically drooling all over herself at the sound of his voice.

“Hey,” I offer, having every urge to flee. However, as I watch Keith get up from his chair and walk toward me, I can tell he’s looking for a conversation. It’s even harder to back away as he draws closer, his scent casting toward me like shadows as he reaches me.

“Everything okay?” Keith asks, his eyes dancing over my face. It’s then that I realize that there’s still a furrow over my brows that I quickly try to smooth.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem…upset,” Keith allows the words to linger out, his own brows pulling together. “And I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little…distant lately.”

Of course he’s noticed. How could he not? After all, I’ve been avoiding him at every turn, which is probably confusing after the nice evening we’d shared with his family.

“Sorry,” I tell him, knowing I do mean the apology. “I’ve been busy with work.”

It’s not quite a lie - I have been busy. But still, there were plenty of moments where I could have made time for him.

“Are you sure?” Keith asks.

“What?” I ask.

“Is it just work?” he asks next. And I spot the way he takes another step forward, crossing more distance between us and bringing his scent closer. It makes Cicy absolutely wild.

Him, Cicy practically yells. It’s him.

Stop, I tell her. But I’m dizzied, my efforts weak as my head is pounding once more. What the hell has gotten into me?

“Shirley?” Keith tries.

Him, Cicy repeats. We want him.

Stop, I yell at her.

But she doesn’t, and neither does Keith. It’s as if he’s noticed my struggles, and my eyes are nearly blurred from the pain in my head as I watch his hand come toward me. The moment he touches my waist, I feel Cicy fighting to take control - and as the seconds stretch on, I can tell she’s beginning to win.

My body begins to lean into Keith’s touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand - wanting it to travel and touch every inch of me. Cicy hisses approval inside my head, making me question what’s real and what’s not as Keith’s scent still overwhelms my nose.

I’m wavering, in and out. Keith calls my name again, and the concern in his voice makes Cicy bring my hands to his chest as if in reassurance. But the moment I touch him, my nose begins to fill with another scent.

It’s not Keith’s, and it’s not the one I’ve been wrapping myself in for weeks. No - it’s my scent. My actual scent.

The last of my powers, the only thing I’ve been able to hold onto is slipping, and my scent is managing to shine through. Panic rushes up from my toes, all while Cicy hums in perfect contentment.

Yes, she moans. Let him. Let him smell us.

“Stop!”

The word leaves me, loud and harsh as I shut my eyes tight. All at once, I feel warmth meet my veins, a surge of my power, the small amount I can access coming to mask the scent that was threatening to fully expose itself. It disappears and then it’s just my other scent and Keith’s mixed in the air.

Cicy is silent now, retreating without so much as a whimper as silence surrounds me. But as the seconds wear on, I begin to realize why it’s so quiet.

I hadn’t just said the word in my mind to Cicy, I’d said it aloud. Keith thought I was saying it to him. He’s frozen now, not offering another word. And when I open my eyes to look at him, he watches me with pure confusion.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer out, pulling away from him as I shake my head. “I’m sorry.” And because I can’t look at him another moment, feeling that same humiliation meet me, I rush away.