Chapter 14 - Olivia

Byron is on his back in front of the fireplace, and Bits is curled up on his chest. He's petting her absently, and clearly doesn't realize I'm watching him.

Thank the Gods. It was bad enough when he caught me watching him with Araya. I couldn't help it—watching him play with her, how natural it was for him to interact with the kids, it broke my heart.

He would make an amazing father.

I trace the line of his shoulder under his sweater, the rise and fall of his chest, how his hair flops back onto the rug. It's fully black, having lost all traces of blue, and I wonder why he chose to get rid of the color.

Reaching up, I take a lock of my hair between my fingers and run it back and forth. Hair stylists have always been shocked at how well my hair holds color. I always thought that was a shifter thing, but maybe it's just me.

"Hey," Rosa says, sitting beside me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Bigby is passed out, and the girls have started stacking hats on his head to see how high they can go. Bubba is curled up in Aris's lap, sleeping, while Kaila is painting Veronica's nails for her. Percy and Rafael are chatting in the kitchen, eating Ado's cream puffs at the speed of light.

" Hey ," I say back, playfully hitting her on the shoulder. Rosa knows me better than anyone in the world, which means I'm sure she was watching me just now, watching Byron, and knew what I was thinking. What I was feeling.

Are you okay ? She sends it privately so nobody else in the room can hear it.

Sure, I say, but I think that cider is really getting to me.

You need to drink more water.

Right.

And, also, you need to talk to him.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head. I tried talking to him. Byron doesn't want to talk. Doesn't want anything to do with me. That is, unless he's creeping on me through surveillance.

Are you ready to go?

I nod against her shoulder. Watching Byron from across the room is a specific kind of torture, like pressing on a loose tooth, the pain exquisite, waiting for the moment it finally pops free.

Except, in my situation, that moment never comes. It's just pain, and pain, and pain.

Rosa gathers up Kaila, who has just finished Veronica's nails, and rouses Bigby, who bravely tries to act like he never fell asleep in the first place.

"Right," Percy says, "Bits was scared of the snoring. She thought it was a bear."

At the mention of Bits, we all look at Byron, asleep on the rug, his feet propped up on a chair, Bits curled contentedly on his chest.

I love him so much.

"Let's go," Rosa says, gesturing for Bigby and Kaila to get a move on. "We can come back tomorrow for leftovers."

"You have to," Linnea laughs. "We can't have all this food going to waste."

I climb into Bigby's Jeep, trying to keep my mind blank, but it's pointless. All I can see is the number of happy couples around me, pairing off and having their kids, celebrating their mates, and building their futures together.

And here I am, nearly thirty, with nothing. Sitting in the back of Bigby's car with Kaila, like we're both kids.

For eight years, I molded my life around Rosa's—it's what we had to do, to survive. Living with them, hiding out, it may not have been fun, but it was best.

But now? I don't want to keep sitting in the backseat of her life. It's not her fault, but I've spent so long prioritizing other people that it's like I've forgotten that I'm the main character of my own life.

When we pull up outside Bigby's house, I take a deep breath, deciding I'm done moping over Byron. The thought occurs to me that, if there's a way to erase your scent, like Linnea was going to do, there must be a way for me to be free of the blood bond with Byron.

My body rebels at the thought of it, but I don't care. Getting rid of these confusing feelings, and my body's innate reaction to him, would change my life. I make a note to approach Triste about it as carefully as I can tomorrow. I don't want her to go telling Linnea or Aris about it, thinking I want to leave the pack.

But would I? If it was necessary?

I glance at Rosa as she comes around the side of the car, helping Kaila out. The only reason I'm in Rosecreek at all is because of her—I realize, with a start, that I haven't had a say in my own life for the past decade. I even stayed in Rosecreek because my best friend was here. Because Byron was here.

Maybe it's time to find a way to move on.

"Wait," Bigby says, just as Kaila is about to jump out of the car. He lifts his head, tilts it slightly, then runs inside the house.

Rosa looks at me, then grabs Kaila and gets back in the car.

"Olivia!" she says, gesturing for me to get in with her. I ignore her, turning on my heel and running after Bigby, who's left the front door to the house wide open.

I stop just inside the threshold, my mouth hanging open.

The house is destroyed .

It looks like several tornadoes have come through, ripping apart every aspect of Bigby's beautiful home. It's not just like they looked through it—it's like a lazy demolition team moved through each room.

The cabinets are hanging off the walls, the wood splintered and cracked. There are long, deep gouges in the hardwood. The carpet is shredded and torn up in some places. The water runs in every sink, the floors are sodden and wet, papers and clothes are waterlogged.

Bigby comes around the corner, and when he meets my eyes, he must see the way I feel on my face.

"Olivia—"

"This was because of me ," I breathe, hand to my mouth. "Because I stayed here. Oh Gods, Bigby—what if Kaila was here? What if—"

"I don't know what they were looking for," Bigby says, "but they waited until I was gone. Waited until the holiday, assuming our house would be empty," his eyes land on me. "Or near empty."

They thought I might stay here while everyone else left, and when they didn't find me, they decided to leave a little destruction behind.

"How did they even get into Rosecreek?" I ask, turning, my hands in my hair, my voice high from the panic. "How did—"

"It's not like the entire town is under lock and key," Bigby says, his voice low as he walks around, turning off the faucets. "It's a town—they would have just come in while we were all busy, distracted, having a good time. Because they're fucking assholes."

"But did—"

"I already checked with Aris. The only place hit was ours."

"So, it was because of me," I say, the words coming out choked. "I can't—"

"Olivia, listen to me," Bigby says, holding his hands up, "I don't care. I'm sure Rosa doesn't care. This is just further proof that you shouldn't be sleeping on your own at night."

I close my eyes, trying to breathe.

"I'm leaving," I say, the words coming out fast, too harsh, "that's the only solution."

"Olivia?"

When I turn around, I'm face-to-face with Percy, standing at the door, his eyes wide.

" Shit ," he says, surveying the damage. "Aris sent me over to help, if you need it."

"We're going to need a major renovation," Bigby says, laughing a bit as though this isn't his childhood home, as though a major renovation will fix this. Will help him and Rosa feel secure in their home again. "Maybe we could spend some time in California?"

When there's a long pause, I look up and realize Bigby is looking at me, his eyes questioning. He's suggesting that I come with them to California. While that might solve the problem of the vamps coming for me, here in Rosecreek, it doesn't make them go away altogether.

"Did you check the shed?" Percy asks, and Bigby starts, shaking his head.

"Shit, no, we'd better—" Bigby pauses, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Stay here. We can talk about this when I come back."

"Right," I say, weakly, but the moment he and Percy disappear around the corner, I grab my backpack and slip through the backdoor, running up the hill and disappearing into the tree line.

I'm not going with Bigby and Rosa to California. I can't figure out why the vamps are so intent on getting their hands on me, but I'm done putting everyone else in the pack at risk. I push through the trees, pulling my hood up over my head and moving as silently as I can, trying to remember the placement of the path through this part of the woods.

Just as I'm about to step onto the path, a blade appears, hovering in front of my neck. I gasp, taking a step back, but someone wraps me in their arms, drawing me against their chest. I recognize him immediately.

Byron.

"Olivia?" he asks, releasing me so I stumble away, hand to my heart, lungs heaving.

"Byron, what the fuck?"

"I thought—"

I follow his gaze through the trees and back to Rosa and Bigby's house, then refocus on him.

"You thought what? Let me guess, you were watching the cameras and conveniently saw what happened, and it had nothing to do with me?"

"Aris told me," he mutters, tucking his knife back into his belt and taking a step toward me. When he looks up, and his eyes lock on mine, a pull like nothing I've ever felt pushing deep in my stomach.

He must feel it, too, because he takes a step back, his eyes wide.

The mating bond. The blood-bond. We can only resist them for so long. At that thought, my stomach churns, but my blood pumps harder in my body, wanting, wanting, wanting.

"Olivia," Byron says, his voice low, still backing up, his head shaking, and I realize he can smell my arousal. I swallow, hard, but there's nothing I can do.

I've always been attracted to him, but this, now, is something bordering on desperation, like that sweet pain, pushing on that loose tooth.

"Byron," I whisper, and I hate how the word comes out as a whimper. He looks away, his jaw ticking, and I stop moving toward him, swaying slightly with the force of how hard my heart beats in my chest.

"It's a bad idea, Liv," he says, his voice raw. "You know it's a bad idea."

"I'm losing my fucking mind," I whisper, "aren't you? Or are you really not attracted to me?"

He lets out a deranged laugh, his head tipped up to the sky, his pale throat flashing in the moonlight. I want to bite him there, tackle him to the ground right here, right now, drape my body over his, tangle our legs and arms and limbs and souls together.

"Of course I am," he says, stepping toward me, his eyes going dark. "It's never been a question of if I'm attracted to you."

"Then what?" I ask, tipping my head up, hoping to look defiant, but realizing I've just drawn his lips closer to mine. He keeps walking forward, but when I try to back up, I bump against a tree. His eyes flash as he comes near to me, as close as he can be without touching, the fabric of our shirts brushing.

"Then…it's complicated," he growls.

"What is so complicated about it?" I whisper, closing my eyes when my lips brush against his. We are playing with fire. I remind myself that just an hour ago, I was prepared to leave town, but now here I am, held completely still by the chance of getting to touch Byron.

It's pathetic. I don't care.

"Olivia," he sighs, letting his head drop so his lips meet my bare chest. I gasp like I've been plunged into an ice bath, the touch is so explosive.

Something that, with anyone else, would feel just nice, like my body exploding with him.

He kisses my chest, slowly drawing the zipper of my hoodie down my chest, revealing the camisole I'd worn under my sweater while at the party. He's breathing deep, like each breath is a fight, his nose dragging along the skin of my collarbone.

So, maybe he doesn't want to be with me. But he obviously wants me. And for right now, for this exact moment, it's enough.