The Pack Thief

7

Willow's POV

The days had moved by like time was swimming through mud. The slow pace of it all was painful, and I was on the verge of losing my mind. No, scratch that—I had already lost my mind—Years prior to now.

It's just recently, it felt as if I was losing it all over again, like an endless loop from hell. I was stuck in it, and the door was my only escape.

I had been staring at it for hours—days even, looking at it and seeing the dreadful memory of Cyrus storming out. Part of me felt genuinely guilty over the things I had said to him, and the way I treated him.

The thoughts, the shame, the guilt...I had tried over and over to push them all away. Those weren't thoughts that I wanted to entertain, yet the persistent nagging was like a horsefly that just wouldn't let me be.

And I could rationalize it all by blaming it on the mate bond, telling myself that everything I was feeling was a result of my wolf's hormones, and that none of it was actually from me.

But even that wasn't cutting it anymore.

I had been alone with my thoughts for too long, and I was beginning to suffer for it.

Staring at the door, I was willing myself to open it. It was a struggle to remind myself that he hadn't locked me in, that I was free to roam about the house—Just not the pack lands without him. The door was unlocked, but I had locked myself inside of my mind.

Unable couldn't leave the room,

I couldn't face him.

But I couldn't stay inside forever.

I had to leave the room for my sake.

There were voices from the floor beneath me, real voices and I caught the scent of my mate even before I'd opened the door. He was in the house, and there were others with him, and there was laughter in the air. The sound of it made my heart ache.

How wonderful it must be to be loved unconditionally—Such joy.

The joy was sure to be ruined if I opened the door, and yet I did it anyways. Selfishly, I did it for my sake, and for the sake of my future.

The voices, the laughter, the movement, all ceased immediately. All of the joy that was present in the air, seemed to stop moving as if it was waiting for those around it to react. Hell, even I had stopped moving. Uncertainty and anxiety made it challenging for me to move, gluing my feet to the hard floor.

I was stuck in place, like standing there would save me from the heavy weight of discomfort that I was already feeling.

The sporadic beating of my wild heart threatened to break my sternum and crack my ribs. It was ready to leap out of me.

I can't do this, I thought to myself. My feet carried me back into my room, and my hand twitched around the doorknob. I needed to close it, I needed to retreat.

Yes you can. There was a man's voice in my brain.

My entire body flinched,

Bewilderment had struck me.

God—It was God that had spoken to me. There was no other explanation.

Then,

My family is here, and they've been waiting to meet you.

No, not God. It was my mate. It was Cyrus. The voice in my head, the very real voice, was him speaking to me through the mate link. Shivers went down my spine. It was impossible to understand how it worked, how I was able to have communication with him as often as I wanted.