False Confidence

I Just Can't

Wren Brooke

The winter sun shown down on me mercifully, making frosted snow appear crystalline and shiny with its now watery melt. I occasionally and desperately missed Eastborne territory despite how much my mate made staying here worth all the homesickness. Even with being now respected in the Northrun pack—welcome, even, I needed time away from the giant estate simply to clear my head. I longed for the familiarity of my family, my baby sister who was probably hitting winter break of her freshman year. My friends, real friends, whom I did not make out of necessity nor politics.

Perhaps, once Azriel or if Azriel accepted the bond, we could take a long stay at Eastborne. He would look perfect, blending right in with the sands of the east coast beaches. White locks tossing in the chilly air. I'd show him every record shop in New York, as well as where to get the best mexican food, or perhaps my father's often frequented jazz club. I knew he'd fit right into my family dinners, with that sharp wit of his. Whereas my humor was snide and sardonic, Azriel was an immensely more sassy version of that. I had come to realize that where we did differ very much in some aspects, we were worryingly similar in others.

I just needed time, and for him to say yes. Yes to me, to us. Then I could show him all of what I had been holding back. All that love that was nearly bursting at the seams. He had turned me in to a sappy, sickeningly sentimental man. The mere idea of hookups now created a pit of disgust in the depths of my stomach.

I had completely and utterly fell into what Azriel was, his very being. It was ridiculously cliche but I found myself finding him in everything good and beautiful. Winter was now my favorite season, if only because as I watched snow flutter down from blank, white skies, I only thought of Azriel. With its quiet and still serenity, it matched how he could stun the wildest of creatures into tranquility with that gorgeous amber gaze. Myself included.

When he laughed, my heart swelled and I began to want to laugh as well. When he cried, I hurt like no other. Whenever he would come back from a particularly bad therapy session, he would cling on to me and just let silent tears fall, never one to sob. It was almost as if he didn't want me to know he was crying, but how could I not? Not when I felt his sorrow like it was my own, bone deep. The only at all redeeming part of it was that was one of the only times he would hold on to me so intimately.

I sighed through my nose, reveling in how precise and real the frosted trunk of the tree behind me felt. Out here and the confines of my mate's room were the only places I felt truly at peace, I could only hope that would change if Azriel accepted me as his mate. Now it was just a matter of waiting, which would soon come to an end given that his birthday was the day after tomorrow.

"Back in town I see?" A breathy, high voice mused from across the clearing. I noted the familiar scent of roses and honey, so engrossed in thought, I had not noticed it before. I couldn't quite remember her name but I do recall using her to make Azriel jealous once. Even before I had known he was my mate, I had just told myself over and over again that I simply wanted a good fuck since my "enemy" was getting some action of his own. The denial was strong.

"For a while now." I responded curtly, crossing my arms over my chest with an arched eyebrow. I had no interest in her yet I was curious on what spurred her to follow me all the way out here. We couldn't have been that familiar given that I wasn't even aware of her name.

"No I know, it's just been super hard to find you alone!" She giggled, stepping forward until she came to a stop right in front of me. Amusement found me quickly in reaction to the words, finding humor in the fact that this random girl, whom I did not know, was so infatuated with my whereabouts. Despite this, my stomach flared with disgust at her proximity. Her sweet scent paled in comparison to that of my mate's musk of vanilla bean and salted caramel heated over a smoky campfire. It did nothing to spark any sort of want in me.