XII . Goodbyes

Aurora

L aying in Cedar’s arms, I’ve never felt so safe in my entire life. He’s seen me vulnerable and raw. He watched me pour out my soul onto the canvas - I’ve never painted in front of someone like that before. And now, he nuzzles in my hair and makes me feel absolutely cherished.

“I wish I could stay like this forever,” I say, my thoughts escaping without filter.

Cedar kisses the shell of my ear. “Then stay.”

“I can’t.” Turning in his arms, reach up and I brush his hair off his forehead. “I’m not a shifter. This isn’t my home. I don’t belong here.”

“Your sister and niece are here,” he says, a solemn hope in his expression that hurts my heart.

“She’s a shifter like you, and I’m not.” I don’t belong anywhere now . I swallow down my melancholy thoughts and place a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Cedar clears his throat, his focus never wavering. “How much longer are you going to stay?”

The answer feels heavy. “Unless I want to start begging for money, I’ll need to leave in the next day or two.”

“I’ll pay your bills,” he says.

“I can’t let you do that,” I say, frowning. “Besides, you have no idea how much an apartment in Hollywood costs.”

“Enough you have to have a bunch of roommates,” he says softly, not condescending but concerned.

“I need to go back,” The words sound hollow to me now. Absently, I twirl my fingers through the caramel curls behind his ears.

“Not right now.”

Cedar tightens his hold, drawing me flush against his chest. It’s all too easy to sink into his warmth and pretend this is my life. Slowly, drowsiness creeps in, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart lull me into a deep sleep.

Cedar is still sleeping when my internal clock wakes me. Pale sunlight filters through the blinds on his window. My small movements wake him. The sleepy smile on his face melts me. Knowing this is the only time I’ll ever wake in his arms feels like a knife in my heart. It’s entirely unfair that our lives are so far away. I’d give anything to keep him.

“Morning,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead.

Sighing, I snuggle closer. “No, it’s the middle of the night and we should go back to sleep.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve got a lot of work to do today. For some reason, my garden is growing out of control. I need to cut some plants back before they take over their neighbor’s spaces.” His dimples show when he grimaces, laughter dancing in his eyes.

After kissing me soundly, he crawls out of bed and begins to dress. A heaviness settles over me. It’s time. If I stay any longer, I’ll never recover from the heartbreak. Already, my heart is fracturing.

Clutching his blanket over my chest, I clear my throat. “I’m going home today.”

Cedar goes still, and a beat passes before he turns to face me with his brow creased. “I thought you had a few more days.”

A sense of wrongness washes over me. “Well, I’ve got control of the magic now, and if I wait too long, I won’t have time to earn enough money for rent.”

Standing in just sweats, he’s imposing. His arms cross and he frowns down at me.

“I know, I know, you can help, but I can’t accept that,” I say, crossing my own arms defiantly.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks finally.

My heart and mind both scream No! But that won’t help either of us. Taking a slow breath, I nod. “It’s time. I’m ready.”

Unconvinced, Cedar watches me for a moment but holds his tongue. When I keep my expression blank and say nothing, he goes back to dressing. My stomach sinks as he pulls a shirt down to cover those beautiful tattoos.

It takes too much effort to drag myself out of his bed and pull my clothes on so I can leave when he does.

The morning is brisk and I cross my arms again for warmth. Birds chatter and squirrels fuss in the branches above us. My emotions are a cacophony of sadness, regret, and frustration all competing for my focus alongside nature’s morning choir.

When Heath’s cabin comes into view, Cedar pauses. “I’ll be in the garden,” he says simply, raising my hand to kiss across the knuckles. “Will I see you later?”

“I’ll try.” It feels untrue.

The soft lines around his eyes almost shatter me. He draws me closer and kisses my lips softly. My body wants to cling to him and my heart aches. He is everything I don’t deserve.

“I’d like more time to say goodbye,” he murmurs into my hair. “But just in case, please know the last few days with you were everything to me.”

There is no response that would be adequate after that declaration. My heart flutters in my chest and my eyes sting. I turn, seeking him, and our lips meet in another slow kiss. The kind of kiss that bleeds emotion. It’s the only way I can tell him how I feel about him.

Too soon, the sounds of a community waking around us destroys our peaceful moment. I unclench my fingers and release the collar of his shirt. His fingers slip out of my hair.

“Goodbye, Cedar,” I whisper.

Those stormy eyes search mine, before he kisses my forehead and walks away. Part of me wants to race after him, fling myself into his arms, and hold tight like a baby monkey. But I can’t.

My steps are stiff as I follow the familiar path back to Heath’s cabin. The door squeaks as I push it open and step into the cheery kitchen.

“Good morning,” my uncle says, looking up from his phone. A half-eaten plate of eggs sits on the table along with a mug of black coffee.

“Morning,” I say, cringing as I wait for his questions about where I’ve been. They never come.

After a few moments of silence, Heath looks up again and raises one brow. “Is everything okay?”

Exhaling, I straighten and force the words out. “I think it’s time I go home.”

“What makes you say that?” Setting his phone down, Heath takes a drink from his mug, his eyes never leaving me. He’s calm and collected, but there’s an intensity about him that churns my stomach.

“I’ve got the whole plant magic thing under control, and I can’t take more time off work. Not if I want to pay my bills.”

“I understand.” There is none of the resistance that I secretly hope for. “I’ll miss you, but you’ll come back to visit soon, right?”

“Of course. Maybe in the fall before the holidays hit.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let me know possible dates and we will be ready for you.” He leans forward, hands draped casually across the table. “I’m happy to help, Aurora. It would be my privilege, and well worth the cost if you can come visit more often. Maybe you could take the whole winter off from the hotel and stay longer.”

“I really appreciate that. I’ll think about it.”

He releases me from his attention and my body relaxes. “Well, I’m going to go get my stuff together.”

“Need help?”

“I’m good.” With an awkward wave, I slip out of the kitchen and into the small secondary bedroom.

My paintings are carefully stacked against the far wall and the newest one stares back at me. Cedar’s beautiful wolf surrounded by his beloved garden. There’s a vibrancy in the painting I can’t take credit for. Even without the details finished, it’s bursting with life. It would be an excellent centerpiece for my next show, but I feel guilty taking it with me. Something so authentic deserves to stay here.

With reluctant hands, I wrap it and set it aside to give to Cedar. A parting gift so he remembers me. Maybe it’s cruel to leave him with a reminder of the girl who fell for him and then ran away, but I can’t help myself.

Possessions packed, I look around the cozy little room. A sense of finality sinks into my bones. Even though I have every intention of returning to visit, it won’t be the same as this first time.

Leaving hurts, and my instinct is to grit my teeth and speed through it with my head down. The sooner I return to my normal life, the sooner this will fade away and be a happy, warm memory. The thought stings.

Bag slung over my shoulder, I detour to Cedar’s cabin and lean the painting against the door frame. He’ll find it later and I can avoid his sad puppy dog eyes.

My sister is my last stop. She’s lounging on the patio enjoying the morning sunlight as Slate paces back and forth with a fussing Timber.

“Everything okay?” I ask, sinking down beside her.

She throws a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn before answering. “Yeah, just had a long night. What’s up?”

“I’m going home.”

“I figured from the bag,” she says, tipping her head toward me. “I wish you’d stay, but I understand. I’m so sleep deprived, I don’t blame you for not wanting to stay longer.”

“No, that’s not it. I’ve loved seeing you. And it’s okay you’re busy. You had a baby, Haze.” Guilt pangs in my chest. “I’m sure it’s a lot to handle. Can I do anything to help?”

She smiles. “Nah. Marigold won’t stop coming and cleaning, Clove and Crickett have filled our fridge with food, and Timber is only happy when she’s attached to my boob or outside walking with Slate. Hence,” she says, waving an arm in her partner’s direction as she trails off.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more useful.”

“I didn’t expect anything from you.” She reaches up and smooths my hair behind my ear. “But it was lovely to see you. And I’m so glad you met Timber.” Another yawn punctuates her words. “When you come next time, maybe she’ll be sitting up and laughing or whatever. It’ll be more exciting.”

“I love you,” I say roughly, throwing my arms around my big sister. “You’re the best big sister and an amazing mom.”

Pulling me tighter, Hazel murmurs into my hair. “Love you too. I’ll miss you. Stay longer next time.”

Timber lets out a squall and Slate steps up on the porch. “I think it’s time for another feeding.”

“Alrighty. Is this what they meant by cluster feeding?” Hazel askes, accepting Timber from her partner. With practiced movements, she settles her baby in the crook of her arm and tugs her shirt down. It takes a few attempts to get Timber to latch, but then Timber drinks happily.

“I’ll want daily updates, Mama,” I say. Gingerly, I take Timber’s waving hand and give it a little squeeze. “Bye, my little niece. I love you! I’ll see you soon.”

A sadness that has nothing to do with Cedar sweeps over me as I untuck my legs and force myself to walk away. Leaving shouldn’t feel like something is being ripped away from me. Maybe it’s proximity to my hormonal sister.

Hazel blows me a kiss and waves before turning her attention back to her baby. It felt so right being near her again.

The walk south to the parking lot is quiet, though several people wave in greeting. No one is that friendly in Los Angeles. Carefully, I lift my paintings into the trunk, and then tuck my bag in the back seat.

The car grinds to life, the sound feeling unnatural after so many days without it. Chewing my lip, I roll the wheel and slip it into reverse. The car lurches a few inches and stops abruptly. The momentum jerks me forward.

Frowning, I throw it into park and fling the door open. What the hell is stopping my car from moving? As I step out, a stalk of greenery sprouts at my feet and curls over my shoe.

A veritable patch of bushes has grown up around my car, stems twining into the wheels.

Suppressing curses, I clench my hands into fists. The bite of nails into my palms triggers another surge of growth, forcing me to step back.

So much for having control.

With a deep sigh, I reach out and brace myself against my car. I have to get this under control. After several deep breaths, I sense the power I am putting out without meaning to. It takes a few attempts to bend it to my will, but eventually the plants withdraw.

Why is it so difficult to leave?

Climbing back in my car, I keep a tight lock on my ability while I reverse out of the spot and roll toward the road. As I wind through the trees on the access road, my tension eases. The tug to stay lessens, though it leaves behind a gaping emptiness that grows with every mile.

I have to force myself to pull onto the freeway. It’s several hours to reach the motel I’ve picked as my half-way point. Tomorrow, I’ll travel the rest of the way back to the city and resume my life. Nothing to do but go through the motions and wait for the emotions to clear. If they ever do.

Cedar

The garden feels empty and somehow lifeless. My favorite place in the world isn’t the same now that I know what it’s like with Aurora in it. I need to harvest the spinach she planted and thin the beets, harvest the blackberries, and a million other tasks. But instead, I sit under the tree where she painted me and stare into nothingness.

When I took a break for lunch, I found the painting wrapped in brown paper outside my front door. It’s now safely tucked in my room. She captured my wolf perfectly, sunlight streaming across my fur and the garden looking wild around me. That’s what I want in this space now, and it’s not possible. Not without her.

Exhaling slowly, I rest my forehead against the arm slung across my knees. Closing my eyes doesn’t alleviate the deep ache of loss. I feel like I’ve lost a limb. A chunk of my soul is cut out.

“You doing okay there?” a deep voice says.

Swallowing, I look up to see Heath. He walks forward, his gait uneven, and lowers himself onto the ground to sit beside me.

“Sir,” I say, all the greeting I can muster.

“Aurora went home,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“I’m concerned about you.” He folds his hands and studies me over.

“Why are you concerned about me?” I say, though it sounds silly when I’m this moody.

Heath sighs. “Did I ever tell you about my brother, Reed?”

I shake my head but stay silent. Heath never speaks about Reed. My father told me the basic story, but I’ve never even heard his name spoken by anyone else.

“My brother wanted to apprentice to be a healer. He even studied medicine.” He pauses, thinking. “He was older, but I don’t think he ever wanted to be Alpha, but our father wouldn’t hear of it. Anyways, Reed decided to do pre-med in California, and this was before online classes of course. And then he met Sheila.”

“Hazel and Aurora’s mom,” I say, acknowledging what I already know.

“He fell hard before he even realized what was happening. I’ve seen it over and over. Hazel and Slate fought it. Even your parents were oblivious for months. That bond falls into place long before our brains catch up.”

My brain hurts with the implications of what he’s saying so I lean my forehead down again and close my eyes to listen.

“Anyway, Reed came home and tried to pick up where he left off. He only made it about two weeks before he couldn't sleep, barely ate. He was useless without her. So he left to be with her.”

“Did he ever tell her he was a shifter?” I’ve always wondered.

“I don’t think so. He would have if their kids had been born shifters. He would have had to. But that never happened.” Heath scrubs at his face. “I don’t think it will do anyone good if you pretend you’re fine. I know how close you became with Rory.”

There’s no use in arguing. “How did you find out?”

Heath exhales in a dry laugh. “You guys were kissing all over the garden. She smelled like you for most of her visit. Oh, and Marigold saw her going home with you last night.”

“She told you?” I ask, raking my fingers through my hair.

“Jasper told Hawthorne,” he says with a chuckle. Of course. I don’t know why I was expecting any sort of privacy in this pack.

“I asked her to stay and she said no. I tried to tell her how I felt, but I didn’t want to make her feel worse. And now she’s gone.”

Heath nods along to my confession.

“So what should I do?”

“I can’t give you the same advice I would have for anyone else in this situation, because I know you. You will stubbornly refuse to do something you see as selfish. You’ll let yourself be miserable instead of inconveniencing anyone else.”

“No,” I argue. He raises an eyebrow and silences me.

“Go to her. Work together to find a solution that allows you to be together. Maybe you could split your time between the city and here. That’s the kind of compromise that relationships require. Aurora has a good heart, and if she loves you too, she’ll be willing to work something out.”

Each word sinks into me. It feels true and right.

“I don’t want to abandon my job here.”

“Tansy can train someone new. Your position here is not more important than your happiness. The garden will be fine without you.” He shakes his head. “But if you want to catch up with her, you need to get going. I’ll text you the motel address.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Something primal drives me, and I’m moving out of the garden before a decision is made. When I glance back, Heath is leaning his head back against the tree trunk with his eyes closed and a contented smile hinting on his face. It bolsters my resolve, knowing the man who I consider an uncle supports me.

It takes only minutes to reach my family’s cabin and gather a few belongings. My mother works in the kitchen, layering pastry while she hums along to classic rock.

“Mom.” I step closer. “I’m going after Aurora.”

She turns, lines forming around her warm eyes as she smiles at me. “My sweet boy, I’m very glad to hear that.” Despite the flour on her hands, she pulls me into a tight hug. “Go get her.”

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back. If she wants to go home, I’m going with her.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” She squeezes my arm, leaving another flour-print. “I’m proud of you.”

Frowning, I reiterate, “I’m probably moving away.”

“I had a feeling this would happen,” she says with a wry smile, finally reaching for a kitchen towel. “It’ll all work out. Don’t worry. Just go get her.”

I’ll have to call my dad later because he’s helping my brother today. Aurora has a head start of several hours and I can’t wait any longer.

The thought that it might not work out terrifies me. But the idea of losing her is worse. Everything in me craves her presence, yearns for her laugh and her touch. It’ll have to work out - I’ll do whatever is necessary.

Clutching my backpack, I head toward the parking lot and jog to my family’s spare truck. The keys wait on the sun visor, and then I’m pulling onto the dirt road that will take me away from the only home I’ve ever known and toward the home I’m choosing.