4. Ava

FOUR

AVA

Blayne's words echoed in my head as I sat in stunned silence and tried to make sense of everything. Witches were real? That alone was something I'd have to unpack later. Curses and spells and fated mates, that was what this conversation was really about. Blayne, the man who hated me more than probably any person I'd ever meet, was telling me that some witch had cast a spell. And somehow that spell had made me his fated mate. Could all of that actually be real?

I had no reason not to believe him. For one, the story was too far-fetched for it to be some joke he was playing on me. Also, if he were going to lie, he wouldn't have made up a tale about me being his mate. If anything, he'd probably have made up a story about how I needed to get away and stay away forever—which was exactly the vibe he was giving off. No way would he have talked about me being his mate unless it was the absolute truth.

Blayne hated me so much that I knew for a fact he hadn't wanted to utter those words. Christ, he'd looked almost physically sick when he'd said it. That hurt me. Even when Liam had been alive, Blayne and I had never had much of a relationship, but it still hurt to have look at me like I was the living embodiment of Satan.

With all that to consider, the last part of his statement kept bouncing around my skull. I was his fated mate? The spell had caused it. If the spell had caused it, could that possibly mean that it was something that could really come to fruition?

"Has the spell ever been wrong?" I blurted. "Has it always been right?"

Blayne stiffened and pink heat spread up his neck to his cheeks. He shook his head, refusing to meet my eyes. "I…well…I wouldn't say right as much as it happened to, sort of, work out for the other guys."

"Did the women or men they were paired with actually become their mates?"

"All women, and yes, but that obviously isn't the case here. The curse got it wrong." Sadness cut through his irritation and anger. "Which is kinda shitty, since I was probably the only one looking forward to finding a mate." He let out a frustrated sigh. "Fate has always been a bit of a bitch to me, though."

That took an almost physical bite out of me, like a sharp puncture to my psyche. He was clearly talking about Liam's death. He'd always blamed my family for his loss. My family, but more specifically me. He couldn't have hated me more if I'd been the one to pull the trigger.

As much as he despised me, I also lived with the shame and heartache over what had happened to Liam. I couldn't stand watching someone be in that much pain.

"Blayne," I said, forcing myself to not lean forward and put a hand on his. "I can't imagine how much it must hurt you that the curse chose me to be your mate."

"The curse can suck it," he snarled. "I'm the master of my destiny. And I know for damn sure that in this life or the next, I'd never choose you."

There weren't any venom in the words, just a simple statement of fact, so they didn't hurt. How could they when I felt the same way? I wouldn't have chosen him, either. I mean…he was Blayne. When I'd dated Liam, he'd always seemed like the goofy little brother, even though they were twins. Nearly identical, but completely different in almost every way.

I gave a single nod. "Okay, how does this work? The whole rejection thing?"

Blayne frowned. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. None of the other guys had their mate reject them. I'm thinking it's probably similar to shifter mating. I ask you to be my mate, you reject me, then the bond is broken. That's what I think, anyway."

A conversation I'd had with Liam a long time ago emerged, drifting up through memories. Once I'd found out what he was, I'd been curious about all aspects of what being a shifter was like. One of those discussions had been about the mating process.

"Won't this hurt you? Liam told me once that when a mating bond is broken—if they break up or if a mate dies—it can be both mentally and physically painful. Is that true?"

He nodded and shrugged like he wasn't bothered. "It will. It'll hurt like hell. But everyone is different. For some people, it's over in an hour. For others, it lingers for days or weeks. Either way, I can take it. Small price to pay to be rid of this curse."

"Well, should we just do it now?" I asked.

Blayne's eyes widened and he glanced around at all the people in the coffee shop. He held up a hand for me to slow down. "Let's do it tonight. I'll come over to your place. I don't really want to writhe on the ground or scream in agony in a public place. That doesn't sound like a good idea."

He tossed his empty coffee cup into a trash can beside the table and stood to leave. Before he got far, I said, "You're sure about this, right?"

Blayne nodded and looked into my eyes. "Fate isn't always right. I shouldn't have trusted it to finally bring me happiness. All it ever brings me is disappointment."

Without another word, he turned and marched out of the café.

I finished my drink, mulling over everything he'd told me. The words hung over me all morning, even when I picked up my father to take him to his first chemo treatment.

Uncle Sam was there when I picked him up. After my dad hugged me, he got into the passenger side. Sam pulled me to him and pressed his lips against my ear. "Keep him positive. We all know he doesn't want to do this."

I nodded and patted Sam's arm. "Got it. We'll be fine."

On the drive to the clinic, Dad talked about anything and everything except the treatment he was about to endure. It was clearly his coping mechanism. Wanting to help keep his mind off it, I spent the entire ride giving random "yeah" and "yup" answers as I focused on keeping the car on the road and Blayne's revelation.

The treatment took over an hour, and Dad refused to let me sit with him. He was probably afraid for me to see him in such a vulnerable situation. Reluctantly, I agreed and sat in the waiting room, stewing on the whole curse thing Blayne had dumped on me.

When Dad came out, it was the first time all morning that Blayne vanished from my mind. He looked terribly pale, and fine sheen of sweat covered his brow as he winced with every step.

"Dad, are you okay?" I asked.

He shook his head and waved off my concern. The nurse who'd escorted him gave me a sad smile. "It's his first session. I think it hit him fairly fast. Take this with you, I'm afraid he may need it." She handed me a plastic, kidney-shaped emesis basin.

I gaped at it, but took it after a moment's hesitation. "Uh, thanks," I mumbled.

"We already have his next session scheduled. He'll come back next week at the same time, and then he'll get a week off. See you then, Mr. Francis," the nurse said, aiming a reassuring grin at my father.

Dad nodded absently as he clung onto my arm. "Let's go home. I want a nap."

I led him outside and had him half into the car when he jerked to a stop and turned to vomit all over the pavement. I had never seen my father throw up, so it was both surprising and worrying. He leaned over, hands on knees, grunting with effort. Not knowing what else to do, I stepped over and rubbed his back while I dug some tissues out of my purse.

Once he managed to straighten back up, he spit a few times, then wadded the tissues up and wiped at his mouth. Without another word, he got into the car. I jumped into the driver seat and started the car before he could get sick again. Dad sat beside me, resting his head against the headrest.

Throughout the drive, I kept glancing between him and the road. Twice, he made retching sounds but managed to control himself. He flinched and huffed angrily each time, as though he was pissed that his body was betraying him. Sweat trickled down his cheeks, and he wiped at his face every few minutes.

"Baby, I'm not sure I'm cut out for this. I'm not going back if this is how it feels after one treatment."

"Dad, it'll all be worth it if it saves your life, right?" I said, trying to infuse as much confidence into my voice as I could.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I…" His voice caught. "I don't think I'm strong enough."

Tears burned the back of my eyes, and I thanked God I had to look at the road. If Dad had seen me like that, it might have started him crying, and I wouldn't have been able to handle that. I hated seeing him like this. Hated that he had cancer. It was the worst thing that had happened in the years since my mother died, since Liam died. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, the pain keeping the tears from spilling over.

Thankfully, the house came into sight. I turned into the driveway and drove through the automatic wrought-iron gate. Uncle Sam, Mike, and Luis were all standing on the front porch.

As soon as I put the car into park, Dad opened his door and got out. He flung the emesis basin across the driveway and stomped inside, slamming the door behind him.

Sam came over and opened my door for me. "He doesn't look good, kiddo. How'd it go?"

All I could do was shake my head, a hand to my mouth as I fought back tears.

Mike came to my side and put an arm around me. "It'll be okay, Ava. He's a strong son of a bitch. Always has been."

"I don't know how I'm going to watch him go through this. It's already hard, and this was just the first session."

Luis put a finger under my chin and lifted my head. "You gotta stay tough. Make him stick to it. If you tell him you want him to do it, he won't back down and chicken out. Gio has always been strong for his family. If you stay the course, so will he."

By the time I got to my house, I was more emotionally exhausted than I'd ever been. There'd been too much going on, too many things pulling me in multiple directions. I had no energy to do anything other than crash on the couch and fall into a fitful sleep. My dreams were crazy amalgamations of black panthers, hospital rooms, graveyards, and funerals.

I woke less than an hour later and saw it was only five o'clock. I still had a couple of hours until Blayne got here. The thought of having to deal with him again sent a wave of anxiety and weariness over me.

Well, if I had to face him again, I didn't want to do it on an empty stomach. All I'd had the entire day was the coffee when I met up with Blayne. Peering into my fridge, I settled on making a quick salad. After I ate, I spent the rest of the early evening trying not to stare at the clock.

When the knock finally came, I jumped like a terrified child. Chastising myself, I opened the door.

Blayne stood on my porch. "Hey," I said.

"Hey. Follow me. We'll do this next door."

He turned and headed back toward his place. It took a second before I started moving. His abrupt command threw me off—and annoyed me. Why did he think he had the right to order me around? Especially when it had to do with my life?

We crossed the street and walked around to the back of his house. Like a lot of the homes in Lilly Valley, his property backed up to the forest that surrounded and spread through the city limits. Growing up, I'd always thought it was lame and redneck to basically live in the middle of the woods. It was only once I was older that I realized how amazing it was. Being that close to nature all the time was soothing and grounding. And I was in desperate need of being soothed and grounded right now. I was nervous beyond belief, crossing my arms to keep my hands from shaking.

"Why are we back here?" I asked, glancing at the nearly complete darkness of his backyard.

"It'll hurt when you break the bond. I plan on shifting immediately to try and dull some of that pain. I don't know how much it will help, but it's all I can think of."

I thought about the agony he was about to go through, and my heart ached. I hated for anything or anyone to hurt, which was why I'd spent three years a vegan. The only reason I started eating meat again was because I suffered major digestive issues. It still made my heart ache when those sad commercials about abused animals came on television. Now I was about to abuse a human/animal hybrid. That thought didn't help my nerves.

Blayne took a few steps away before he turned to face me. When he glanced up, my heart skipped a beat. In the low light of the moon, he looked exactly like Liam. Not similar, but exactly like him. An almost audible gasp left me. Even before now, I'd had a hard time looking at him and not seeing the shadow of his brother on his face.

There were differences, though. Blayne always had a hardness to him that Liam had never had. My dad had wanted Blayne to work for him because of it. Everyone in town knew the Walker brothers, but Liam had been against involving Blayne in the life. He'd argued that the only reason he was working for my father was to get Blayne through college and set him up for life. Liam had always tried to protect his brother.

"I don't know that Liam would have approved of this, Blayne. Torturing yourself, I mean. Maybe there's another way?"

Even in the darkness, I could see the anger flashing through his eyes. "Don't say his name," he snapped. "I don't need you messing with my emotions right now, Ava. Let's just get it over with. Do you accept me as your mate?"

I winced inwardly at his words and the venom with which he spoke. Blayne was right. We needed to put an end to this. But I couldn't look at him without thinking of the pain I was about to put him through.

I took a breath, and my voice shook when I said, "No. I don't accept you."