Siren's Call

Cut and Run

Embry tried to concentrate on the leg of the rocking chair he was carving but ended up sitting back on a stool and tossing his tools across the table in frustration. Running his fingers through his hair, his eyes drifted to the wall behind his workspace and found the latest addition. It was a photo of him and Freja on the beach that Quil had snapped when they were unaware one afternoon while they were all hanging out. He was gazing down at her with a grin while her head was tossed back in laughter. Automatically, his heart clenched and he felt the ever present pain in his chest increase.

It had been one month since Freja left.

While he was grateful she had survived The Change, he was torn with worry. Worry about where she was. If she was safe. If she was coming back.

He had stayed a few more days with her grandparents, thinking maybe she would come back right away. When it became clear that it wouldn't be that quick - that easy - they had encouraged him to go back home. Try to get back into his daily schedule. Perhaps it would help distract him. He knew they were doing the same thing. But every night, he would go over and the three of them would sit on the deck or the beach for hours, waiting. Hoping.

His eyes drifted back to the rocking chair. While his thoughts were constantly drawn to Freja, he had managed to get a lot of work done on it and he found it was nearly finished with all but the legs now covered in intricate carvings. She had been his inspiration and the wood looked as though it was the rolling sea. He only hoped she would be back soon to see it. So that he could give it to her.

"Please tell me you're not destroying my workshop," he heard Gramps say. Embry looked over, seeing the old man walking towards him.

He pushed up from the stool, dusting wood chips off himself.

"Not today," Embry said with a sigh. Gramps came to a stop in front of the table, bending down to study the pieces of the chair laying there.

"This... this is a work of art, Embry," he said, glancing up at him. "It's for her, isn't it?" Embry nodded.

"I just... keep thinking that maybe if I finish it... she'll come back," he said, his voice soft. Gramps sighed and straightened up before turning to him.

"You have to believe that your connection is strong enough," he said. "It'll bring her back. Just like the pain you're going through, she feels it too. She'll come back."

Embry didn't reply. He heard the same thing every day. From Quil and Jacob. The others in the packs. Freja's grandparents. But as more days passed, he was starting to think that maybe they were all wrong. That because Freja had embraced the other part of her, that perhaps the imprint had disappeared. But even then, he could still feel a small connection with her, reminding him that it was still there.

"Just because it's there... doesn't mean that she'll choose it," Embry said, his eyes fixed on the chair. "They have a choice."

His thoughts returned to that day in the ocean, when he held Freja in his arms one last time. He had told her that he loved her. She hadn't said it back. She only kissed him and then left.

"Her grandparents, they always said that... the call of the ocean was strong. Even they still feel it though they can't go... maybe it's stronger than her... affections for me," Embry said.

He looked over at Gramps, fighting to control his emotions. But a month of being separated from Freja was wearing him down.

The old man reached out and pulled Embry into a hug, patting his back.

"I know there's not a lot that any of us can say to make you feel better, but... trust her, Embry," he said. Embry nodded and stepped back, looking at the chair again. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off. Go do something with Quil and Jacob."