25. Conrad

Chapter 25

Conrad

-Breathe Again- Pop Evil-

Sitting in the waiting room of the therapist’s office, I feel a knot tighten in my stomach, twisting with anticipation and anxiety. The air is heavy with the scent of disinfectant, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee from a nearby cafe. My fingers fidget nervously in my lap, betraying my inner turmoil.

As I glance around the room, the muted colors of the walls seem to close in on me, suffocating and oppressive. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead adds to the sense of unease casting harsh shadows that dance along the floor.

My thoughts drift to Grace, my heart aching with concern for her. I can’t help but wonder what demons she’s facing in that therapist’s office, what memories she’s dredging up from the depths of her psyche. The thought of her seeking solace in the presence of Ethan or Nicolai, their comforting warmth, and strength, brings a bittersweet comfort.

I imagine her running her fingers through their fur, seeking refuge in the tangible reassurance of their presence. It’s a small comfort, but one that I cling to as I wait for her to emerge from that daunting room, hoping and praying that she’ll find some measure of peace within its walls.

The soft hum of the air conditioning fills the room, mingling with the gentle rustle of papers as the therapist prepares to update us. My senses sharpen as he explains Grace’s actions, his voice steady and reassuring.

The image of Barrett and Lorcan flashes through my mind, their faces etched with concern as they try to understand Grace’s struggles. Yet, beneath their worry, I sense a glimmer of hope, a shared determination to support her through this journey.

As the therapist delves into the intricacies of made wolves, I catch a faint hint of pine mingling with his scent, a reminder of his own shifter nature. His knowledge and expertise wash over me, filling me with a newfound sense of understanding and empowerment.

With each passing session, I can see the subtle shifts in Grace’s demeanor, her posture straightening, her gaze steadier. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, allowing her to breathe a little easier with each passing day. We’re only a month in, but already I can sense the seeds of progress taking root, blossoming into hope for a brighter future.

Ethan’s presence got her to admit last session she was losing chunks of time. The therapist said that was more than likely during times she couldn’t emotionally handle what was happening.

Today’s session Griffin is in there with her and he’s refusing to shift. Occasionally, the sound of raised voices filters through the walls, followed by an eerie silence that hangs like a heavy blanket. My phone buzzes incessantly with Ethan’s urgent inquiries, each notification adding to the weight of the atmosphere. Separating them for this session might not have been the wisest choice. The repercussions reverberate through the room, echoing in every strained breath and clenched fist.

The door to the therapist’s office opens, and he smiles at me. “Mind joining us?” I stand quickly and follow the doctor into the room. I see exactly what the problem is. Grace is sitting there with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Griffin.

“Baby girl, what happened?” I sit in the armchair across from Grace and Griffin in front of the doctor. This is the part of the session where he watches how the family dynamics shift when different bond mates enter the session midway through.

“Griff is being a dick. I want him to shift so I can snuggle and he won’t do it.” Grace pouts at me and tilts her head, expecting me to yield to her desires.

Part of the pack reconditioning is that we cannot give into her whims. “Baby girl, you know me shifting will not help anything.” I say gently yet firmly, establishing my boundaries like I am supposed to do. “You can, however, sit in my lap and I will hold you while you talk.” I offer her an alternative that still meets her need for security. It’s a tool to get her to settle back into her place without causing more damage through raw dominance like with the initial bites.

Grace tries pouting and tilts her head several times before she moves and climbs into Griffin’s lap. Not exactly what we were going for, but it went in a better direction than it was going. Grace opens up more about the emotional abuse she endured, and Griffin and I both had to suppress our urges to growl. If she hadn’t already killed Hunter, we would gladly do it slowly to make him suffer for what he had done.

As she delves into how his treatment of her changed when she delivered a baby girl instead of the son he wanted. Her body shudders with each word. The therapist notices her trembling and motions for Griffin to comfort her. She can feel his reassuring hand on her shoulder, grounding her in the present moment.

It’s now that we hear why Grace was afraid when she was pregnant. He had started shopping for boy things the minute he found out she was pregnant. Each tiny onesie and baseball cap felt like a weight pressing down on her, as if he was trying to will the son into being with each purchase.

Grace’s demeanor shifts sharply as she discusses Ashina’s birth. When she speaks of the post-delivery, her body tenses. I notice the subtle twitching of her fingers, as if claws are trying to emerge but then retract with her stress.

She recounts the overwhelming joy she experienced when she first laid eyes on her daughter. The sound of Ashina’s tiny voice calling out, echoing in her memory. I can almost feel the warmth spreading through her as the maternal bond instantly clicks into place.

But then comes the unexpected turn. Grace’s voice falters as she describes the rage on Hunter’s face. His rage was directed at her as if she had committed a betrayal by bringing a daughter into the world. The tension in the room is palpable, and I can sense Grace’s turmoil as she relives that moment.

The air is thick with tension as Grace recounts the moment she discovered Hunter’s true nature. Her voice quivered slightly as she describes the plans she had meticulously crafted months before. The memory of using the slingshot to confront Hunter for the first time sends a shiver down my spine.

As she speaks of running for her life with our daughter, every nerve in my body seems to ignite with adrenaline. Griffin’s body tenses beneath her, his arms instinctively tightening around Grace. In that moment, the primal instinct to protect overwhelms us, coursing through my veins like a raging river.

But then Grace’s words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. The realization that we, that I, couldn’t shield her when she needed us most, it rocks me to the core. The weight of that failure presses down on me like a leaden cloak, suffocating and unrelenting. Even though I know there was nothing I could do.

Grace’s demeanor shifts as she recounts arriving back in Wolf Creek for the first time in twenty years. “Stepping into the woods at Gram’s house felt like home,” she says, her voice carrying a soft, wistful tone. I notice a subtle relaxation in her posture, a release of tension I hadn’t seen in weeks.

“There’s a scent on the wind that night,” she continues, her words wrapped in a gentle sigh, “toasted marshmallows that remind me of the campfires of my youth.” As she speaks, I can almost sense the crackling fire, feel the warmth against my skin. She spoke of her creator’s scent and I watch Griffin’s posture change slightly. A genuine smile graces her lips, a rare sight in our sessions lately, as she recalls the comforting aroma.

“The scent draws me towards the woods,” she explains, her voice laced with a newfound sense of certainty. “Instinctually, I know I’m safe in the woods behind my grandmother’s home.” Her eyes drift closed, and for a moment, the room seems to fade away as she immerses herself in the memory. The smile lingers on her lips, a small but significant sign of progress. “I know now the scent that called to me, that it was Ethan’s scent and that he was my mate.” Grace’s eyes open slowly and then she looks at me, smiling.

“What else can you tell us, Grace?” The therapist tilts his head, looking at her before glancing quickly at Griffin and me before refocusing back on Grace.

“I remember the day I met Barrett. He smelled safe. Felt safe.” Grace lowered her eyes to her hand and played at the edge of her shirt.

“Smelled safe? You were still human at the time. Can you explain?” The therapist sits up and leans forward, interested.

“I’ve always had a great sense of smell. I can hunt and track better than most in my family.” Grace shifted slightly on Griffin’s lap.

“We theorize that it’s because Ethan healed Grace when we were kids with his blood.” Griffin offers as he kisses Grace’s cheek.

“You didn’t get sick from his blood?” The therapist tilts his head, looking at Grace, waiting for her answer.

“Not that I remember. After that, I didn’t get sick like the other kids.” Grace shrugs her shoulders and leans back against Griffin. It’s a tell that she’s uncomfortable at the subject.

“Interesting … This brings a new angle to this whole dynamic.” The therapist taps his finger on his bottom lip, considering the information.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I lean forward, mimicking his lean.

The therapist motions towards Grace. “Your body accepted his blood in your adolescences. Being separated from your mate for over twenty years can cause insanity. You didn’t know why he made you feel safe, but he did. It’s why you want his wolf or Nicolai’s wolf for comfort. Their beasts steady yours. She respects their strength.” The therapist sits back in his chair, studying Grace.

Grace shifts in Griffin’s lap and rolls her pants leg up to look at her knee. The small scar that sits there is silver white, unlike her other scars that hold color. “Ah … May I?” The therapist motions to her knee.

“Yes?” Her answer is more of a question than an answer. I can feel through the bond her uneasiness.

“Be careful, she’s uneasy but curious.” Griffin mentions gently more to protect the therapist than Grace.

The therapist nods and moves closer, taking a knee before Grace, looking at the scar without touching. His eyes shift and Grace lets loose a deep growl in warning. The minute the therapist’s eyes return to human, she calms. “Interesting reaction. You don’t like my wolf. Why?” He backs away as he questions Grace and she tilts her head several times.

Grace sits back, and as she opens her mouth, I see her canines. Her features sharpen bones, realigning looking more canine. “He was too close.” Her teeth remain gritted as she stares at him, not breaking eye contact. Grace’s glare intensifies until the therapist turns and lowers his gaze.

A shuddering breath escapes the therapist’s lips as he returns to his chair. “I didn’t feel your dominance until you got angry.” He won’t raise his eyes to meet Graces again.

“I don’t like getting angry,” Grace says, her eyes still fixed on the therapist. This is the first time I’ve watched him actually push her. Whatever he saw in her eyes was enough that he won’t raise even his human eyes to meet hers.

“I think that’s enough for today. We’ll meet again on Friday. Bring Lorcan and Nicolai this time.” The therapist says as Grace and Griffin leave the room.

I remain behind as usual and wait. “Any suggestions?”

He looks towards the door, terror clear in his eyes. “She is of two spirits. The nurturing of the lunar wolf, and the fierce protectiveness of the ember wolf that’s growing in her chest.” He runs her hand down his face and sighs. “Somehow they live in harmony in her. Goddess, help anyone that raises fang or claw to people she loves. That beast of fire will rise and destroy the world to protect what’s hers.”

The therapist’s words haunt me the rest of the afternoon. We saw Grace to get to the point of rage. She was close to losing herself to her wolf, or was it almost becoming the ember wolf?

I need to meet with the others when Grace takes the babies to hang out with the grandmothers. We need to be prepared for the possibility of Grace changing to protect the packs. It’s on brand for Grace to want to protect everyone. All those years of feeling helpless to now being strong enough to protect others. I’ll gather the others and tell them my concerns. Hopefully, as a family, we’ll figure out a way to help Grace.