48. Grace

Air.

I need air.

Doubling over as I enter the house, I can see black spots floating in my vision.

I. Can't. Breathe.

My heart is racing, and I claw at the halter top, holding up my dress like it's keeping the oxygen from entering my body as I collapse on my bed.

This wasn't the plan.

I'm Deacon's.

Marcus. Mate.

Deacon needs us.

Mate.

It wasn't until Marcus took control of his wolf that I regained control of mine.

How could they do this to us?

How could they give me Deacon, his love, his strength, his life, and then make Marcus my Fated?

Since I was ten years old, I have believed. Finding Deacon's beaten body gave me all the proof I needed that they had a plan. They gave me my wolf, and I've never felt more whole.

The two pieces I need.

Mate.

This must be a mistake. I can't be his.

My wolf snarls at me, and I get it. I'm mad at myself, too.

Marcus is incredible—handsome, intelligent, funny, kind. Anyone would be lucky, more than lucky, to be Fated to him.

But I promised my heart to Deacon.

Mate.

I know!

Grabbing my pillow, I scream as loud as I possibly can into it, trying to let out every ounce of anger I have inside me.

How am I going to tell him?

This isn't the message you deliver over the phone or in a letter.

Hey, I hope all is well. By the way, small thing, I'm Fated to your best friend. Surprise.

This will break him.

What am I going to do?

If I accept it, I will lose Deacon.

If I reject it, I will lose both Marcus and my wolf.

Would Deacon still accept me knowing I'm Fated to another?

Of course, he would. He loves me.

Would he accept me if I didn't have a wolf he could chase around? If I couldn't have his pups? Or if I had pups that would share in my punishment with me.

A million questions spiral in my mind, like a mouse on a wheel I can't get off of.

Why Fates?

How could you?

I believed in you!

Anger builds again, and I shred my pillow.

As feathers fall, I see the gift Marcus brought for my birthday. I picked it up from the sidewalk when he left. I still couldn't open it. Even receiving the gift felt like a betrayal to Deacon.

My eighteenth birthday was supposed to be the best day of my life. Becoming an adult meant making my own decisions, learning to drive a car, and running away with Deacon.

Instead, I"m sobbing in a green dress I took from my dad"s closet that once belonged to my mother.

I hate dresses. I rarely wear them, but today was supposed to be remarkable.

It is special—our Mate.

For one guilt-engrossing moment when it first happened, I couldn't believe how happy it made me. In a world where I never met Deacon, this would have been the best day of my life. Finding out my Mate was Marcus, an Alpha with an honest heart. I should be thanking the Fates.

But Deacon does exist.

He's the boy who opened my eyes to what loyalty was. He defended me and showed me how love should feel. He sat with me when my mom left, and I didn't speak for days. He held me when the nicknames started about my appearance. He made me feel beautiful when society joked that I had no soul. He built me a home when mine fell apart and left his pack to build us a future.

And I betray him by even considering accepting my fate.

The phone ringing in the dining room pulls me from my wallowing almost two hours later, and I panic.

What do I say to him?

How can I keep this from him?

What if Marcus tells him first?

I don't have time to overanalyze it as I race to the receiver and pick it up, aiming to sound as normal as possible.

"Hello?" It's breathy, and I sit in the chair to slow my heart rate.

"Happy Birthday, Tails!" he shouts excitedly before singing the entire birthday song into my ear.

I clap my hands for him, and my heart swells knowing he is in the packhouse main room, so odds are, other people just heard that.

‘I'd do anything for you, Tails. Name it, and it"s done,'

The memory of the words turns the knife in my heart, opening the wound there with a new rush of pain.

"Thank you, D. How are you? How is everything there?" I ask, trying to keep the focus off me so I don't slip up.

I won't lie to him.

But I can't tell him like this.

"Different. It's not days like home sleeping in at the treehouse. Amato has his fingers everywhere. There's more work than workers, and nothing falls through the cracks," he says. His voice carries a bit of awe, and it sparks worry in me.

"You sound like you're impressed by them. I thought they weren't good people?" I ask tentatively, not wanting to get him in trouble on the tapped line but curious about his change of tone.

"It's not like that, Tails. They're just a well-oiled machine. Efficient."

"Okay," I say, not knowing where to take the conversation.

I can't remember the last time I struggled to talk to him.

That's because you don't keep things from him; you haven't had to filter before.

I hate this.

"Was Marcus able to get off work to take you to dinner?" he asks, and my heart flutters at the mention of his name, only to cause more guilt a moment later.

"Luca worked it out. Thank you for thinking of me. It was very kind of you," I say honestly, choosing my words carefully.

"Of course, Tails. You know you are always my priority. Hey, I don't have much time. I had to call the packhouse first to give them some work information, so this will be fast, but…"

The minute he says he called the packhouse first, I panic, wondering if he talked to Marcus. If he told him?

He couldn't have. Deacon wouldn't sound like this if he had.

Is this a test?

I can't keep my thoughts to myself, and I interrupt his sentence before he can continue.

"Oh, did you get to talk to Luca?" I ask, hoping he says yes so he doesn't know the truth.

"Yeah, I had to pass on some stuff, but I'm headed overseas with one of the teams here. It's ten weeks. The bad news is I won"t be able to write or call, but when I get back, it's only three more weeks until I'm home," he says apologetically.

I gasp, feeling relief for a minute before the guilt creeps in again.

You're relieved because it gives you more time to choose.

He deserves better.

He misreads my response and begins apologizing again.

"I know. I'm so sorry, Tails, but I'm one of the few who speaks Italian, so he"s sending me with his advisor team to help translate where I can. We will be moving all over Europe, and I'm hoping the time will fly by since we will never be anywhere too long. It will give me less time to miss you since we both know all the ways I've been missing you," he ends sweetly.

"I understand. I'm just glad you told me before you had to leave," I say, relief seeping into my tone, and I try to mask it.

"We've got this, but I have to go," he says, ending the call when I see the paid bills on the counter.

"Okay, D. Be safe, and thank you for paying the house bills. I don't know how you knew we needed it, but it was a lifesaver. I want to pay you back. It may take a while," I say before a loud noise on the other end has me pulling the phone away from my ear.

Ouch.

"Sorry, Tails, but I don't know what you're talking about. Bills? Look, we can talk about all that when I get back. I really have to go. I love you. Talk soon," he says, and the line goes dead before I stumble through a response.

He didn't pay the bills? Then who did?

It hits me like a ton of bricks. How stupid was I to think he could sit here and not try to help? It was in front of my face the entire time, and I was blind.

Marcus.

My Mate.

But he couldn't have known then.

His wolf wouldn't have known we were Fated until I turned eighteen.

He didn't do it because we were Fated, then why spend so much money?

As that question dances around, I return to my room and spot his gift. Wrapped in newspaper comics, I lift it, knowing from the size and weight it"s a book before even opening it, and I grab the card off the top.

"Get smart, and nothing can touch you." ~ Dally

Happy Birthday, Spitfire.

I hold the card to my heart, remembering the moment in the book and the movie.

He quoted The Outsiders

He's thoughtful. He's selfless. He's generous.

A tear falls.

He's everything I could ask for in a partner and a friend.

He just isn't Deacon. How could I love anyone like I love Deacon?

I set the card down and slowly rip through the paper, wondering what book he chose. As soon as the first hint of the green leatherbound cover peeks through, I drop the book back onto the bed. Both of my hands fly to my mouth.

He bought the first edition.

It"s the book I spent years dreaming of but knew I could never afford. I never told anyone about it—not Deacon, not even Fran. I knew it was frivolous to yearn for such an expensive book. I wasn't materialistic, but the reader in me saw such value in the words of the Divine Comedy.

It's a classic.

It was my unicorn.

And Marcus bought it.

And Marcus paid all the bills for my house.

And Marcus took a ruined trip and made it a fantastic memory.

And Marcus never asked for anything in return.

Marcus never complained.

Marcus never hesitated to lend a helping hand.

Marcus will make an incredible Alpha.

In that moment, with all the cards on the table, I know what I have to do.

I can't take his wolf from him.

Even if it costs me Deacon.

I'm accepting my fate.