Chapter 8 - Rami

Rami snapped at Vera, white fangs flashing, stopping her in her tracks before she could take another step forward. Whatever pull the cabin had, she was more susceptible to it than he was and the look in her eyes was dazed, vacant. Nothing like the focus he was used to seeing there. Was this how the curse found its victims?

Howls sounded in response to his from a surprising distance away—he and Vera must have gotten farther off the pack’s path than they’d realized.

The cabin sat in the clearing like a fairytale cottage, but the sweet scent and its storybook appearance were the juicy bait on the end of a lure, and he wasn’t about to let Vera get hooked. Her reaction to it was enough to tell him all he needed to know.

Anything that could addle Vera’s mind was not to be trusted, and he wasn’t going to let her get any closer to it. What was taking the pack so long? He couldn’t smell them, not over the scent drifting from the cabin.

After what felt like an eternity, Adria, Spencer, and Jonah blazed into the clearing. They slammed to a halt when Rami let loose a few sharp warning barks.

“There’s some sort of enchantment. It wants us to get closer.” Rami nudged Vera toward the others, pressing against her shoulder until she turned.

When she whipped around to snap at him, her tooth catching the corner of his ear in a flash of pain, he breathed a sigh of relief. That was the Vera he knew. Despite the sting in his ear, he was pleased to see her fiery reaction, a sign that she’d shaken off whatever compulsion had her in its snare.

“ I’m fine. Back off.” She trotted over to Adria.

He’d take her ire if it meant keeping her safe. If only she could understand that he’d done the same thing by breaking up with her.

“Do you feel the pull?” He sent his question to all of them. “Vera seems to feel it more than I do, but it's there and strong. If I were alone, I don’t know that I’d manage to resist it.”

Spencer stepped to the edge of the clearing, ears pricked forward. “I do. Is that place the source of it?”

“It seems to be. I don’t dare approach it now, not until we’ve learned more.” Adria circled away from the cabin, ushering Vera into the cover of the woods. “ We should get her away from here. We don’t know what kind of effect this is having.”

The four of them took up behind Vera, pushing her forward until the smell of the cabin faded, replaced by the fresh green scents of the forest.

“We should go back in human form and see if the compulsion is as strong.” Jonah sent to the group. His tail was low, ears pinned back against his head.

Rami couldn’t fight the urge to look over his shoulder. Though they were clear of the overbearing presence back at the clearing, he felt the eyes of the forest on him, following him. His skin crawled with the sensation of being watched.

“Agreed,” Spencer replied. “And no Rosewood is to enter the woods alone.”

That gave him some comfort. Vera would never listen to Rami forbidding her from entering the woods solo; in fact, she’d probably venture in just out of spite if he tried, but she’d respect her Alpha’s command. He hoped.

Sticking close together, they made their way back to the road and shifted out of their wolf forms just as the first drops of rain started to land. Vera covered her hair with her hands, cringing.

“I just did my hair,” she muttered, glaring up at the sky like it might back off.

“How do you feel now?” Rami stepped in front of Vera and stared into her eyes, searching for any sign of the daze he’d seen in wolf form. Blue, defiant orbs stared back at him. But her cheeks turned pink.

“Fine. I don’t know why it bothered me and not you guys.” She rubbed her hands over her arms, breath pluming in front of her. “What am I, more malleable or something?”

The group burst into quickly stifled laughter.

“Um, no,” Adria said, hiding her smile. “I don’t think that’s it. We’ll have to do more investigating before we know what’s going on in there, but I don’t think you’re weak. It has to be something else.”

The rain picked up, scattering the group for their cars. Rami climbed into his and started it up, the burbling engine drowning out the sounds of the rain. He waited, watching Vera get into her car. She spotted him staring and flipped him off before pulling away.

He snorted. Like it or not, she’d have to accept that he’d be keeping an eye on her until the curse business was sorted. Especially now that he knew she was susceptible. It’d put a wrench in his plan to keep away from her as much as possible, but he’d known that was a losing battle anyway.

She was his mate. His brain might have rejected her, but his soul hadn’t, and it demanded that he protect her. He wasn’t going to burden her with all his unresolved shit that made him unsuitable as a mate, and she’d just have to accept that. Just like she’d have to accept him watching out for her.

***

Rain beat against the bookshop windows. At least it wasn’t snow; they’d had enough of that over the winter, but he wasn’t looking forward to the trek home when the shop closed that evening. It was a slow day, few customers willing to venture out in the downpour for a book, and he’d had the place mostly to himself.

Despite the quiet pace of the morning, he’d barely gotten anything done. How could he when all he could think about was Vera? She was in his house, in his dreams, in his thoughts. The bell above the door chimed. He looked up from the pile of books on the floor—his third attempt to set up a seasonal display, and there she was.

She must have forgotten her umbrella. Her hair was soaked and clinging to her face, nothing like the sleek bob she styled it into every morning, regardless of whether she was leaving the house or not. Like a crack in her armor, it made her look vulnerable. Made him want to reach out and pull her into his arms so he could warm her up.

“Vera, what are you doing here? Where’s Jessa?” Rami tossed the book onto the pile, giving up on his fourth attempt. No matter what he did, it wasn’t quite right.

Vera sniffled. A raindrop rolled off her brow and down her cheek, dipping into the curve of her cheekbone. “She’s with Moira. I needed to talk to you.”

He got to his feet, brushing dust off of his hands. “What happened? Is it something with the curse? Did the Rosewoods discover something?”

She shook her head and looked away, down at the pile at his feet. “No, it’s nothing to do with the curse.”

Rather than explain, she ducked forward and started going through the books he’d strewn about, stacking them into piles by color. He watched her for a minute, at a loss for words. She definitely hadn’t come here to help him work. Picking up after a man was not Vera’s style, as she’d let him know early on in no uncertain terms.

But she’d yanked up a prickly shield over the vulnerability he’d seen on her when she’d walked in, and Rami was afraid to pry, afraid he already knew what she was there to talk about. Them. Their relationship, or lack thereof. Fuck. He hated talking about feelings. Hated that stomach-churning sensation that came with knowing he’d hurt someone. Couldn’t they just ignore it all and move on?

“What else do you have?” She looked up at him from her knees, and he swallowed, feeling a sudden rush of heat. Vera snapped her fingers. “Rami. For decorations. What else do you have? This table is sad. No one wants to buy anything from your sad little table.”

“Uh,” he said, stupidly. “I might have some stuff in the back, maybe? I’ve never really gone in for that kind of thing.”

“Show me.” She got to her feet and shooed him toward the back of the shop.

He had a bad feeling about taking her into the storeroom's dark, close quarters. There’d be nowhere to hide. But the look in her eye said it was that or face her wrath, so he led the way into the back and opened the door for her.

She clucked her tongue, standing with her hands on her hips in the doorway. “Seriously, Rami? It’s a mess. How do you find anything back here?”

At least they’d moved on from all the things she’d probably wanted to say to him when she’d walked in. This, he could handle. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her walk into the storeroom. She was wearing a tight little skirt, knee-high boots, and a sweater under her jacket, which she shed and tossed to him.

“Hang that up,” she ordered. “And make sure it doesn’t get dirty.”

“Vera,” he warned, squeezing the jacket.

He knew what she was doing. Being bossy to spur him into a reaction. Goading him so he’d be forced to show some emotion. It was the song and dance they’d done a hundred times during their relationship.

She pretended not to hear him, bending over to open a box marked “Holiday Stuff.” He watched her dig through all the crap he’d accumulated over the years, most of it things he should’ve gotten rid of a long time ago.

“Why are you hanging on to all this junk?” She lifted a strand of lights that was missing half its bulbs, the wire tangled into a knot. “Learn to let go.”

“Hey,” he protested when she tossed it onto the floor in a pile he was certain she’d be sending to the trash can. “I can probably still use that.”

“A mouse chewed through the wire, so unless you’re secretly an electrician, I don’t think so. What even is this?” She tossed it, a warped and bent Valentine’s heart, into the pile beside the lights.

He gritted his teeth. If he argued about the junk she was tossing, would she switch into attack mode about something else? Sometimes, it felt like all the things he loved about her were the same things that drove him crazy, just dialed up. Intensity, drive, the way she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind were all traits he admired in her. But damn if they didn’t get under his skin when she wanted to be a pain in the ass.

“You can’t be tearing this place apart when a customer could walk in at any moment.” One look back at the window told him that the event was unlikely to occur, but it was the best shot he had.

She rolled her eyes. “No one is coming out in this weather.”

“You did.” He pointed out. And did she have to wear that skirt for the trip? She knew how weak he was against those legs.

“But I had reasons.” She turned around to face him, a streak of dust across her nose. “Why did you do it, Rami?”

Guess that distraction couldn’t last forever. “Do what?”

“You know what. You dumped me. Everything was going perfectly,” her voice cracked, and she looked so delicate, so broken that it took everything in him not to go to her. “Then you just left me. What did I do? What did I do wrong? Was I too much or—of course, I was too much. I am too much.”

Fingers of ice clenched around his heart. How did she not see that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him?

“It wasn’t like that.”

But that wasn’t enough for her. She moved toward him, and he took an unconscious step back, bumping into the doorframe.

“What was it then? You can’t just walk out the door like that with no explanation. You know I need reasons, facts, something that can make sense of it all, or I’ll just drive myself crazy going over it.”

He could picture that, actually. The same way she’d get on about trying some new technique at her clinic, she’d focus on the breakup and dig until she was satisfied.

“It wasn’t about you at all.” He could see her disbelief, head cocking to one side and eyes about to roll again. “Look, I just can’t commit to anyone. I can’t be trapped in some relationship that turns into contempt on all sides, picking each other apart until you’re both just shells going through the motions.”

Her nose wrinkled in confusion. Rami pressed on.

“My parents didn't set the best example for love, let me put it that way. I spent every day wishing they’d just gotten divorced. But the worst part is I remember when it wasn’t like that between them. I remember when they were happy. And I watched it all change because they just stayed together too long.”

And he’d seen the same cycle happen to so many others. Hell, in his own relationship attempts before Vera, he’d watch it happen on a smaller scale, before he’d learned to get out before it got to that point.

“But it doesn’t have to be like that.” Vera frowned up at him. “If we talk about things when they come up instead of letting them fester. If we work through things together.”

“I don’t like talking about that sort of thing.” He interrupted. “I’m sorry, Vera. I care about you, obviously, I do, but we’re better off apart.”

It seemed like she was going to argue. He could practically see the gears turning in her mind, picking up steam before she let loose. Instead, she nodded. A sharp, short gesture that made him more nervous than any tirade could’ve.

Her signature implacable mask dropped over her face again, any hint of vulnerability vanishing. The dust streak looked more like warpaint.

“You’re just afraid. You’re a coward, Rami.” She kicked the pile of trash with her toe and pushed past him, back into the store, and out the front door before he could find the words to stop her.

Maybe he did know the words to stop her. Maybe she was right and he was too afraid to say them. He scooped up the trash she’d left him and deposited them back into the box again. Some day, he’d get rid of them. He just wasn’t ready yet.