Chosen

8

It was awkward and silent as I packed my clothes and books into a couple of suitcases. I didn't know how long I'd be in Black Moon, but I figured I could buy whatever else I needed when I reached the settlement. I wasn't really sure what an ambassador wore, but I ended up packing more dresses and skirts than sweats and jeans.

Just to be safe.

Travis had sulked off to his study after the argument and hadn't come out since. I wasn't sure if I should pop in and say goodbye or...

Or if things were better left the way they were.

A part of me felt guilty for not being sad that I was leaving Travis. He was, after all, my Mate. The one the Moon Goddess made especially for me. But there was no ill feeling, no sense of despair or emptiness. Instead, I just felt an odd sense of calm and...acceptance.

Like maybe I had come to accept the fact that maybe...maybe the Moon Goddess was...

Wrong.

Besides the basic Mate feelings, I had no romantic or affectionate emotions towards Travis. I had always wanted some sort of passion, or at least a steady love in my Mating. With Travis, I felt like even getting to an amiable friendship would be difficult. Perhaps these months away would do us well; maybe the distance would stir longing feelings within me.

A knock at the door broke me out of my thoughts. Rykor was there, a black robe the only thing adorning his body. For trips like this, it was customary for Lycans to wear only a robe, as any clothing they had on would eventually be ruined during the change. The robes were designed to be easily compacted and tied to the rear legs, so that travel in wolf form was not hindered by the garment.

Rykor gave me an unreadable look. His eyes stayed firmly on mine, and he stared at me until he was certain of whatever he was looking for. His lips quirked in a small smirk, and he tossed the small bundle in his hands towards me. My hands came up automatically to catch it.

It was a robe. A black one, identical to the one Rykor wore.

"If you come with us, you'll need to wear that." It was all he said before he disappeared from the doorway.

I had a robe. A white one, customary for members of White Moon. It was hanging up in my closet, the next article of clothing waiting to be packed.

It wasn't until I looked at the black robe in my hands that I really heard Rykor's words. If. He'd said if I decided to go with them. For some reason, the fact that he was giving me that choice cause a warm glow to take up space in my chest.

Without a second thought, I shed my dress and put on the robe.

The suitcase I'd packed only had a few things in it; books, photographs, and yes, even clothes and shoes. Though they were stuffed to the bottom, in case Rykor happened to look inside.

Speak of the devil, he was standing on the front lawn. His form turned towards me at the sound of my shuffling feet and dragging suitcase. There was no hesitation as he took the sack from me and tossed it to another Lycan who was standing by a SUV loaded to the brim with other suitcases. Then he turned to me and held out his hand for the second time that night.

The same feeling as before washed over me. It was like I had no control over my body; I had to reach for his hand, had to grasp it, because any other option was totally unacceptable. Still, I felt like taking his hand was a big deal. Like there would be no going back after this.

Which was ridiculous. It was only a hand.

Right?

As I reached for his hand, a voice I was very familiar with spoke from the shadows.