Chapter 7

SEVEN

Arlys

Camp has been set up. Food has been served and eaten. Now the darkness of the night crowds around our little party, hindered by the light of our roaring fire. Garrick has pulled out a map of bear lands, and we're going over our next moves, except my mind isn't on the journey. It's on Tara.

She's different with us now.

Ever since Drogo let our plan slip, it's like she's taken a big step away from us. It's fair, we deserve it, but it's killing me. Even my wolf seems miserable within me, wanting to be closer to her. Wanting to make her smile.

Wasn't she always smiling before? Did we take that from her? Have we destroyed the beautiful creature who looked into our eyes and promised to be with us forever?

The idea makes me sick.

Tara is snuggled beneath a blanket, to ward off the cold night. I want to climb under the covers with her, but I don't have the right to do that. Not now that it's understood that this relationship is fake.

Her blanket falls down.

Reaching over, I pull it back up.

Her dark eyes find mine. "Thank you."

Thank you for your beautiful smile. Thank you for the gentle way you've been with my father. Thank you for making our lives brighter just by being in them. "You're welcome."

When she looks away from me, it feels like she's tearing my heart out with her bare hands. I would do anything to have her look at me gently again. What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Are you still hungry? I think I have some chocolate hidden away."

She shakes her head. "You don't have to worry about me."

But I do. I worry about you. I think about you whenever you're not with me, and whenever you are with me. It's insane. This is the one woman we shouldn't get close to in the world, and the one woman my best friends and I seem to have fallen head over heels for.

Even Drogo. I'd seen his face after he slipped up and admitted our plan. He'd looked like someone punched him in the stomach. He'd stared at the spot where she'd disappeared into the trees for so long I actually thought he was going to run after her… until Garrick did. He was the best man for the job, since us wolves fucked up so badly.

Now, the three of us are heart-broken, and we don't know what to do about it. Tara is basically giving us exactly what we thought we wanted – a witch to help cure the illness and a way out of our marriage – and none of us are happy. Why?

And what the hell do we do about it?

Garrick clears his throat, drawing our gazes back to him. Our eyes lock, and I can see it in his face. He pities us. "The bears know we're coming."

"Yeah, they know we're coming, and they're waiting to ambush us even though we're trying to save everyone," Drogo mutters before his gaze flickers to Tara.

He's obsessed with her. The idiot.

We're all idiots.

Garrick rolls his eyes, and Rinan tries to be the voice of reason. "We can stay on alert and be stealthy if it eases your minds, but if approached, it shouldn't be a fight. There's an alliance between our people. Even if it's very fresh, word has been spread, and the alliance will be respected."

Drogo makes a sound of disbelief.

Garrick draws himself up taller. "You're with the prince of the bear shifters. There's nothing to fear with me."

I have to focus on the plan. This is the whole reason we're here, to save our people. "Still, maybe it'd be best to avoid any towns or areas with a heavy population of bears. The last thing we want is for bears to face off with us wolves and end up wounded before we even reach the source of the water."

"My name will be all the protection we need," Garrick says, cocky as always.

During every fucking interaction I've had with Garrick since I was a boy the guy has been arrogant. We've faced off a number of times on either side of the border between our lands, taunting one another to step over into our territories, begging for an excuse to beat the shit out of each other.

But we've never actually fought with him. Never actually seen him in battle. Part of me thinks that he's right about his name and influence being enough protection. Another part of me isn't willing to risk it, especially with Tara. She's the only one of us too fragile to handle any sort of fight. One mistake with her could cost her her life.

Although she did kill that bear. She's pretty handy with a weapon. I push those thoughts aside. Tara won't be put in a position to have to protect herself. Not with us near her. If something happened to her, I just couldn't…

My entire body tightens, and I have the overwhelming urge to pull her into my arms and make her promise she'll be careful. I can't lose her… like that. Again, I feel sick to my stomach. Maybe I never want to lose her.

"I think we should just follow the water to its source," Tara says, shrugging. "Then I'll easily be able to sense the water as we go along until I find what I'm looking for."

"Sense the water?" I ask, confused.

Her smile returns, the one that makes me want to grab her and kiss her until she's out of breath. "Yeah. I basically put out my magical feelers until I find what's making everyone sick. We really don't know how high in the mountains my mother cursed something in the water."

Interesting.

"How sure are you that you can find it that way?" I don't doubt her, but she seems to fly by the seat of her pants. She works on instinct, but she doesn't look as confident as she sounds.

She sits up taller. "I'm pretty damn confident."

All eyes are on her, but she doesn't buckle under our gaze, even though I can sense her nerves, which I guess is a good thing. I know so little about witch magic and curses that I just have to trust her. And I do. I actually do.

"So, we could be days away from the cure to the illness," Rinan says with a smile. "That's a nice thought."

"Hopefully, it'll be quick enough to save all the people who are already sick," Drogo adds, looking doubtful.

My father's image comes to my mind, and my gut tightens. Something about seeing him coughing blood, just like the dead shifter, has changed something inside of me. It's like up until that point I really just didn't think it was possible for my father to die. And now? Now I have this pressure on my chest that can't be eased.

I turn to face Tara, and her gaze meets mine. The whole world seems to fade away, and my nerves jump as I force myself to ask the question. "Do you think everyone who is sick can be healed once you find the source of the illness? If you break the curse, will they get better?"

My father is there again, at the back of my mind, sick and frail: a shell of who he once was. I can't watch him wither and die. I slowly breathe in, trying not to fall apart in front of everyone. My throat gets tight, and I cough, trying to shift my thinking.

Tara looks at me, a softness in her eyes. "I don't know."

I exhale, my breath turned shaky. I drag my hand through my hair and try to steady myself. I'm losing myself, but the thought of losing my dad… I hang my head. "I'm scared I'll lose him, and I can't. He can't die," I whisper.

Tara's small hand touches my back, and then she's rubbing slow circles on my back to soothe me. It's unexpected, but comforting. Here she is, a woman who I've hurt over and over again, and she's still willing to offer me comfort after all I've done. The touch of a woman – of this woman – soothes like nothing else.

"I understand. My father was really sick before I lost him." Her words are quiet, but they sound loud in the silent night. "I watched him go from a strong, hulking man to someone who could barely lift a cup to his own mouth."

She'd told my father about this while we eavesdropped. I think it had been a shock to all three of us. Tara seems so innocent, naive even, that we assumed that she'd literally lived a life of privilege without even a glimpse of sadness or loss. Her story painted a different picture.

"Was… was it like this?" This painful.

She releases a slow breath. "It was difficult." She hesitates before pressing on. "I spent all my time with him, taking care of him and keeping him company. I did everything I could to try to save him, used every bit of magic I could muster, and nothing helped."

I imagine a little Tara, using her child magic to do adult things like save a man's life. "That must have been really hard."

"Honestly? It was agony. It hurt like hell to watch him suffer like that, but I couldn't let him see my sadness. I couldn't make him feel guilty for making me sad when he had no control over what ailed him. So I made it my job to smile. I learned to smile through any and everything that life threw at me, no matter how hard it is or how much I hurt. My duty was to smile and make my dad feel better." Then she smiles, and I realize just how much she smiles.

But maybe, like then, she doesn't always feel like smiling. The notion brings to mind a thousand moments where I expected Tara to cry or get angry, and she'd simply smiled. The realization makes me feel like absolute shit.

Rinan seems to realize it too. "Smiling all the time isn't always the way to go. You're just pushing your true feelings down. It's okay to be sad."

Tara opens her mouth to say something, but closes it, pressing her lips together like she's holding back what she wants to say. She stares at Rinan and then looks away into the fire. There's a strange energy in the air that I've never felt before.

We're shitheads. Absolute shitheads.

I watch her, deciding to look into her eyes the next time she smiles. Maybe then I'll know if she's really happy or if she's feeling something else.

It's strange. I've always seen myself as a good man. I've always treated women well. But I haven't done a good job with Tara. The fact that smiling through it all was her way of being tough rips my heart out. If we'd seen how much we were hurting her… I'd like to think we would have been better to her. Hell, we should've been better to her regardless.

She turns her gaze from the fire and back to me, and I stiffen, not sure what to prepare myself for. "I promise I'll do everything I can to make sure your father survives. I couldn't save mine, but I'll try my best to save yours." Her eyes twinkle with this smile, and I believe her.

Hesitantly, I reach out and take her hand. After a moment, she stops holding herself tensely and holds my hand right back.

"You're too good for us. You know that don't you?"

Her dark eyes widen, and she shakes her head. "I'm not."

"You are."

There's no question to it. It's a statement.

I squeeze her hand. "Thank you for helping us even though we're assholes."

She gives a little shrug. "Assholes or not, I'm not going to let your people suffer when I can help."

My gaze finds Drogo, and I swear every wall he's put up has fallen. He's just staring at the little witch like this is the first time he's ever seen her, which is good. I think he'd be a lot happier if he let go of his anger and stopped directing it at Tara.

She leans so that her head rests on my shoulder. "I'm sorry about your dad. I can see the weight all of this is putting on you. It's a lot to handle."

"It is," I admit. "My father has always run the pack and now, suddenly, all of that is resting on my shoulders while I watch my father slowly dying." The last word breaks a little.

I can't believe I said all of that out loud. That's not like me. I only talk like that when I'm comfortable…when I feel safe with someone. That's how I feel with Tara: safe and connected. Even my wolf is content around her, and that's rare.

"Just remember, you're not doing this alone," she says. "Right now, we're all here to help. And when this is done, you'll still have your best friends."

But not her. Not the tiny woman who eases my heart.

She gives my hand another squeeze, and then pulls away. Closer to Garrick. His thoughtful expression fades away, and he wraps an arm around her. Like she's his.

I stare, not sure what to say or do, but for the first time in a long time I want something. Something more than I have. Or maybe something I had but lost.