The Ultimatum

Chapter 1

It's a beautiful Tuesday in August when Evelyn Johnson is laid to rest. The wind is gentle and warm, and it's one of those days you wish you could save somehow and revisit every time you're upset, that just seems to slip through your fingers as the clock ticks the day away too fast. Mr. Albert Johnson, the widower to the deceased, is having trouble with his tie.

His hands shake as he fumbles with the tie he has long since lost the ability to tie. "Let me get that," I tell him, as I swiftly tie his pink tie and button up his suit jacket. "Pink was her favorite color," Albert explains, looking at me with eyes full of gratitude and tears. Al, despite the progress of his Alzheimer's, is having what we call a "good day" where he can mostly remember the important things, like that today is his wife's funeral, or that I have been his nurse for the past few years. Today, though, I think he might almost prefer the forgetting.

I see the tears well in the eyes set into his wrinkled face. "Claire," he tells me, "I'm afraid. I don't think I can do this. I can't live without her. We were married 43 years.. and now she's just... gone."
"I know, Al. I miss her, too. But you won't be getting rid of me anytime soon, don't worry. I'll take care of you, and we'll figure this out." I reassure him, tears welling in my eyes. I reach over and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

"Ready?" I ask him. He nods his head yes, though I know he isn't, and we exit the house. It takes us just under fifteen minutes to arrive at the church where they are hosting Evelyn's service. Al waits patiently for me to open his door. We head inside, me leading the way, and I am careful to keep an eye on him.

His Alzheimer's means that he could forget who I am, who he is, or what he's doing here, at any minute. I help him get seated at the front and we wait quietly. Slowly, people start to trickle in, a black wave that fills the quiet room in a few minutes. Everyone is coming up to give Al their condolences, and nearly all of them glance at me first, wordlessly asking permission to speak to him, as if he might jump up and proceed to act completely senile at any given moment due to his condition.

Even though this frustrates me, I smile as graciously as I can and try to keep him from getting too overwhelmed. Soon the seating starts and the ceremony begins. I am by Al's side as he warbles through his eulogy before I give my own and help him back to his seat. The service finally ends and everyone is preparing to move to Evelyn's burial site. Al and I both have tears plastered to our cheeks. I take a tissue and gently clear his before hastily wiping at my own. I feel more sting my eyes as I realize that what I need now, more than ever, is Evelyn.

We arrive at Evelyn's plot and I stand beside Al, my hand on his shoulder. When the service ends, I leave him in the hands of my Dad as I go to find my Mom so she can pull the car around. Mom offered to drive us home after since me and Al were both so emotional. As I weave through the crowd, I am stopped by a hand that reaches out and gently rests on my shoulder. I turn, startled, to see who it is - It's Peter, the Alpha's son. He's two years younger than me, at age nineteen, but I dip my head in respect for his position. "Claire, right?" He asks, "You were Mrs. Johnson's daughter? I'm sorry for your loss." He seems somewhat aloof, but I can't blame him - I suppose he's just here because he has to be and he probably never knew Evelyn.

"Oh, thank you, but no," I answer, smiling politely, "I'm the Johnson's caretaker. We're basically family, but not technically."
I look up into his eyes and that's when it happens - my arms break into goosebumps despite the warm breeze and my blood hums like it's been electrified. Peter looks at me with the same startled expression I am sure covers my face. The supernatural is happening, the Moon Goddess is at work around us. And if we're the only two that seem to feel it - Oh my goddess, this can only mean one thing. He's my mate.

"Um, I have to take care of Al, her husband, but if you wanted to get coffee or something later this week, maybe we could-" I start, trying to be respectful of his position while still making it clear I won't be available for the next few days - Al will definitely need me in the days to come. I've been waiting for this moment for so many years, and I'm happy to have finally met my mate but I still can't just forget Al, forget my job and my family.

"Um, actually I don't think this is going to work."

"Wait," I ask, the smile on my face faltering, "What?" I knew that Peter has a long-term girlfriend, but he wouldn't leave his mate for her, would he?
"This - us - isn't going to work," he repeats, running a hand through his hair tiredly, "I'm already with someone. And I love her. I chose her. I never get to choose anything. Everything in my life is decided for me, but not this. I won't accept it. I'm sorry."

"But.. the moon goddess has destined for us to be together.. for me to be Luna.." He leaned in close.

"I have a Luna, and don't you dare disrespect her again by suggesting otherwise. You're not my Luna, you're not anyone. I don't want to see you again."

"Don't," I beg him, my breath hitching in my throat. "Please don't do this." My voice is so quiet I almost don't recognize it. If he rejects me, I don't know how I can stay in the pack, watch him get married to someone else and have someone else take the position of Luna that I was fated to claim.. He stares back at me coldly, as if I was a fly buzzing around him that he wishes he could just swat away. Not the mate he wants, not the mate he's going to take. Not the one he chose. I'm in shock. I don't understand. He doesn't even know me yet.

"You're not the one for me - I've already found her, my perfect Luna and other half. This is just a mistake." That's all I am to him - a mistake.

"Claire, I hereby reject you." Without so much as a goodbye, he is gone.