Song of my Heart

Chapter Seven

Jace

I was drowning in paperwork. The application to the High Council had been abandoned, since we no longer needed an investigation into the rogue situation, but the new pack members, building permits and reports on the raid all made the hours I had poured into the old application look like child's play. It didn't help that I was constantly distracted, my thoughts drifting away from building materials to rest on my sister's face.

I just couldn't understand her. At all.

The pack induction ceremony we held last night drifted through my head. We skipped a lot of the ceremonial elements that usually occurred, given the sheer number of new members we had to bring into the fold. The blood ceremony alone took up most of the night, boring the older pack members to tears, but bringing a stark relief to the group of scarred, wary females. Standing amongst them, Az had been entirely expressionless throughout the evening, her back straight and her eyes totally blank. I don't know how she didn't feel it; I certainly did. The moment I cut her hand and mixed our blood together, when I felt her thread join the knot of the pack deep in my mind, I could barely get the words of the vow out, my throat having closed over. But Az, other than a brief hesitation before allowing me to take her hand, didn't react in any way. How could it all mean nothing to her?

Even the way the other survivors reacted to her was foreign to me. They followed her with absolute, almost fanatical devotion. My little sister was not a leader when she was a young girl. She stood up for what she felt was right, of course, and had no problem making her voice heard, but most of the time she was content to sit back, letting others do the talking, and she hated any tension or conflict of any kind. Jenna was the obvious leader of their little trio, not Az. But this adult, this stranger, though she didn't talk unless she had to (unlike her chatterbox younger self), certainly had no hesitation jumping into any situation she felt needed her attention. She was heavily involved in the decision to build a new house for the survivors, unswerving in her determination to see it done and have a hand in its location and design. She visited every single one of her females as they began to integrate into their new jobs around the pack, eyes watchful and tongue sharp as she saw to it that conditions were just right for the women to begin to settle in, begin to heal.

I had no problem with any of that – someone needed to do it, after all, especially since I didn't have a Luna – but her abrasiveness was just so... opposite to who I knew her to be. She never yelled; she didn't have to. There was something about that sharp edge to her voice, when she was unhappy about something, that let everyone know not to push her past a certain point. My mind flashed to the look on her face in that room at the fighting ring, and I shuddered a little, not sure I ever wanted to see Az in that state ever again. And I don't think I was the only one.

The only person she seemed comfortable around, outside of her survivors, was Marcus, though as far as I knew they hadn't touched each other yet, not the smallest bit of contact. I don't know how Marcus was doing it; when I met Shelly, I couldn't keep my hands to myself. We were marked and mated by the end of the day. I sighed to myself, as I always did when my mate came to mind. It wasn't so bad now, eight years was a long time after all, but I couldn't help but wonder what my sweet Shelly would have made of all of this. Perhaps she would have been able to connect to Az, get through to her in a way I just couldn't. They had both been born Lunas, after all.

I sighed again, heavily, and left my desk, knowing I was just wasting my time trying to get this paperwork done right now. Maybe a session at the gym would clear my head and get me back on track.

I made my way over towards the training centre, long strides eating up the distance. A voice called my name, and I paused, waiting for Benji as he approached from my destination.