56. Grace

He's missing.

Luca told me he didn't return to the packhouse last night after coming to see me, and he hasn't been to the treehouse. I know because I waited all night.

After finding Marcus bleeding in the parking lot, I came straight here, hoping to find him.

Hoping to get through to him.

The storm pounds water down all night as if the world is crying along with us at the circumstances The Fates created.

Part of me wants to turn my back on my belief in them, knowing the mess they've caused, the life they've ruined. Curse them for hurting the person I care about most.

The other part knows that I don't have the big picture, and I can't see the future or paths they've placed us on.

Maybe this is all for a reason?

How?

How can destroying our bond be what's best for anyone?

How can taking me and his best friend away possibly be the best option?

I hate myself for doubting my faith. I'd questioned The Fates like this before when we left Alabama. I yelled, screamed, and cried for days. The move was ‘the worst thing that could happen to me,' at least that's what I'd told myself.

But it wasn't.

It brought me Deacon.

They had a plan.

Then my mom left, and again I was unsure.

The move broke my dad, and my broken dad caused my mom to leave. I returned to the thought that we would still be a family if we could have stayed in Alabama. My dad would have his light back, and my mom would be here to tell me what to do.

But I wouldn't have Deacon. He never would have held me while I cried over losing her, he never would have kissed those tears away, and we never would have fallen in love.

So, I justified it again.

I lost my mom, but The Fates gave me love, a life partner, a future.

Now, all of that is shattered.

I have no family together in Alabama.

I have no mom.

I barely have a dad.

I've lost Deacon.

But I have Marcus.

Was all this a plan to bring him to me?

Frustration boils under my skin, and I'm uncharacteristically irritable. Lack of sleep and emotional upheaval left me without patience.

I need to talk to him.

I can make him understand, make him see that we didn't mean to hurt him and that he didn't ask for this.

No sooner do I think it than I hear movement below me.

Swiping at my eyes, I try to sit on the bed to curb my nervousness and keep myself from wrapping myself in his arms the moment he walks in.

His ascent is slow, and my anxiety ratchets up with every beat of my heart.

My eyes drink him in when I see him, scanning the right side of his body for any sign of injury as he walks to the dresser and grabs his sweatpants, giving me his back. His movements are labored, and I can almost feel the physical pain wafting from him.

His body tenses the moment he realizes he isn"t alone, and I hear him sigh, his head dropping as he pulls them on.

"I don't have anything else to say," he says, his voice shredded. My heart sinks at the pain in the sound. It isn't even the words but the exhaustion and defeat.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just needed to know you were alright," I say, my voice impossibly small. My fingers pick at my pants, removing lint that isn't there, while my eyes never leave his back.

A single laugh escapes, and it carries his defeat.

"Why?"

"Because I care about you," I state, my voice firm in the assertion but confused by his question.

"You ‘care' about me? You ‘care' about me? Well, then, rest assured, I'm fine. You can go," he says, dismissing me while he pulls a shirt on.

"We didn't choose this," I begin slowly, causing him to whip around, anger burning in his tired eyes.

"That's exactly what you did!" he snaps, fisting his hands to remain in control.

"No… No. The Fates chose. The Fates picked Marcus for me. I never once even considered anyone but you until that day," I say, infusing strength into the words so he understands I was his, I was faithful.

"I'll be sure to get you a gold star for your effort," he says, his tone venomous. "It doesn't matter. You made your choice," he finishes.

"Deacon…" I start.

"No. You told me you loved me. You told me, Mates, or not, I was it for you, and then the minute you have a choice, you turn your back on everything. You are no better than everyone else who uses me. They did it for my wolf, for power. You did it for my cock, a stopgap so you wouldn't be alone until a better option came around." His eyes are hard, and the words he uses sound nothing like the man I fell in love with. Nothing like my Deacon.

"You know it isn't like that," I say, my eyes dropping, knowing that is what he has been thinking since he left. I bite my lip, trying to prevent my tears from escaping.

I need to be strong for him right now.

"Then choose me. Tell The Fates to shove their choices and pick me. We can leave today. I have connections in Tennessee and South Carolina that will take us into their pack," he says, falling to his knees before me, hope flaring in his eyes. "It's always been you and me, Tails; choose me."

This is the moment I will remember breaking him. As my own heart shatters in my chest, and my eyes fall closed, unable to watch the final blow.

"I wish I could," I say quietly.

"You can," he whispers, his forehead falling against mine, his hand holding my cheek while his thumb swipes away the stream of tears. "I love you, Tails. You. With or without your wolf is irrelevant to me. Reject their choice. Choose your own future. Choose us," he says, causing my heart to ache in my chest.

"And what about your best friend? Do I force him to lose his wolf, his future as an Alpha leading a pack, his plans? I love you, Deacon, more than you possibly know, but it"s not fair to ruin his life for my selfishness. My wolf wants his. My heart wants you." I pause, grabbing his face with both of my hands before continuing.

"It's an impossible decision. If I choose you, I lose my wolf, he loses his wolf, he loses his future in the pack, and we both know he will make an excellent Alpha. If I choose him, I lose our future, but you keep your wolf, I keep my wolf, he keeps his wolf, and I can still have you in my life. It might be in a different way, but it does the least damage. The Fates wouldn't have done this if they didn't have a plan for you. I've always trusted their decisions. Without them, I wouldn't have found you. Without them, you wouldn't be alive." I finish, apology in my voice as I beg him to understand.

His eyes are shut, and his jaw flexes beneath my hands. The next words out of his mouth burn themselves onto my memory like a scar that will never heal.

"Maybe I shouldn"t be. Maybe letting me live was our first mistake. Maybe my being here was always a loose end they were trying to tie up," he says, pain rippling out of him. He pauses, collecting himself as he rises from the floor.

"I accept your choice. All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. Now, you truly can be. Marcus will take care of you and give you the life you deserve, but I can't stick around here to watch it." He finishes, opening his eyes, reading my face in a way that feels like he is memorizing it.

No.

"No. This isn't it for us. Deacon, you're my best friend. I need you too," I plead, feeling the distance between us growing by the second and grasping at everything I can to hold us together.

"Goodbye, Grace," he says, turning away before leaving the treehouse altogether, taking with him a part of me that I will never get back.

He called me Grace…