Forever Yours

SEVENTEEN

The world around her was muffled as Roxy twirled beneath the ocean's surface, the water making her thick fur float around her as if she was made of features. Closing her eyes, she allowed her wolf to become weightless, rocking and being moved by the current like a baby in a basinet. The sun rays pierced through the water, trying to reach the sandy floor and warming her body. She let out a long sigh of contentment, causing bubbles to tickle around her face. She imagined herself bobbing along like a piece of driftwood until she reached a secluded island, where her wolf would be her only company and they would be free to live a calmer lifestyle.

It'd been three days since she'd torn away from Moonlight Ridge. Since she'd ran away from her estranged father, the soulmate she thought she could trust, the Alpha she'd always classed as a brother and her sister who would be experiencing the same heartache. It was planned that she would return tomorrow but fear made her unsure. She wasn't sure why she wanted to continue ignoring Isaac. She knew he already hated himself for what he'd done, yet she wanted to keep hurting him. A part of her hated herself for being bitter and immature, while the other half fought not to care about how he was feeling. He was the one who'd lied. She was the one hurting.

In the days since she'd been at Saltwater Woods, having meals cooked by the Omegas delivered to her door and taking her wolf for runs in the forests when she was sulking inside the house, she hadn't once spoken to Isaac. She wasn't sure how to feel about him not calling. It was stupid really. They needed space. He was respecting her wishes to get away and level her thoughts. She knew that if he did call she would only take pleasure in rejecting his calls. But it somehow hurt more that he wasn't annoying her to try and fix things.

There now wasn't a memory she held with Isaac that wasn't tainted by the revelations he'd made. All that rang through her head each time she thought of him was, he'd known. When she'd first learnt of the blood wolves wanting her, when she'd scrambled to come up with a reason as to what made her and her sister so special, he'd known. When she'd been terrified in his office, when he'd taken his hands in hers and given that spiel about telling truths, he'd known. Every time he'd smiled at her, he'd known. Every time he loved her, spoke to her in that Spanish accent that made her knees grow wobbly, he'd known. When they'd mated, he'd known. He'd known, he'd known, he'd known. And not once had he let the façade break, not once had he made her wonder if he'd been keeping anything from her. She wished he was a bad liar. She wished she would've busted him a long time ago. It was with these thoughts she wondered what was hurting her most. The fact that he lied to her, or the fact that he'd covered it up so well for so long.

How could she ever possibly trust him again?

As much as she loved him, as much as their soulmate bond would tie them to one another for the rest of their lives, she wondered how she could continue being with him. A life of questioning everything he told her, everything he did, would be exhausting. She didn't want to have her heart broken again. She didn't want to be seen as a fool again. It was rare, if not unheard of, for soulmates to simply "break up". Unlike the humans, who would often go through a handful of relationships before settling down with "the one", werewolves couldn't just cut ties with their soulmate and move on. She knew all too well how insufferable life was without a soulmate. The rejection had made her want to sleep forever, locked away from the world and curled beneath her blankets. But it was also unheard of for soulmates to treat each other in such a way.

Hating the way her hurt was distorting the Isaac she'd known, she squeezed him from her mind, allowing the thought of her father to take its place. Away from the drama and amongst the quietness, she'd been able to think of him in a calmer state. The man who'd been a distant memory in her mind had suddenly skidded back in when she'd seen him pressed against the truck. Like a faded image which had been coloured in, she suddenly remembered everything about him. His strong stature, brown hair and blue eyes she'd inherited with Cleo. Whilst she hadn't been able to see it yet, she knew when he smiled the skin around his eyes would crinkle. His shoulders had still been broad, the very shoulders which had carried herself and Cleo about when they were little. The strangest part of his appearance had been the neat suit, along with the large wolf's head on his finger. The father she remembered had resembled a lumberjack, wearing old jeans and flannelette shirts. The polished man in front of her hadn't been her father, at least not the one she'd grown up with.