Heart's Desire

Chapter 21 - Monty

As I listen to Kit speak, I struggle to keep my emotions in check. Sorrow, indignation, pity, horror, and outrage all combine to make my chest feel too small for the ache in my heart. I want to hold on tight and never let go, to kiss away his tears, and to promise him only good things from now on.

Instead, I stay quiet, and keep my hold on him light.

The fact he lets me touch him at all, after what he's been through—that he trusts me and takes comfort in being close—is a miracle. It's a triumph of nature over nurture, I guess, that Kit could have gone through all that he has and still come out so gentle and sweet.

When he reaches the end of his awful tale, he looks up at me, the corners of his mouth trembling, and draws a shaky breath.

"So do you hate me now, Monty?" he whispers. "For what I've done?"

I stroke his wild curls, soft as a child's, and keep my voice even and quiet.

"I could never hate you, Kit. You've done nothing wrong. Some bad things happened to you—some really bad things—and none of it was your fault. You get that, right? None of it was your fault. Your family lied. You're good, and beautiful, and brave, and... well, you're wonderful, Kit. And I promise you I'm gonna do my best to make sure no more bad things happen to you, ever again."

"But I brought the danger," he sniffs.

"No, you didn't. The danger was already here, by the looks of it. And if more follows you, that's not your fault, either. You were running for your life, and you didn't mean any harm by it, did you?"

He shakes his head.

"See? Not your fault."

He whimpers and reaches for me, pulling me down into a kiss, but I gently set my hand on his chest and hold him back.

"Kit... I need you to understand something else, okay?"

He nods.

"I'm gonna do my best to protect you and keep you safe, but only because I want to. You don't owe me anything. And I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to, either—not ever. Okay?"

He stares at me, and for a moment I'm not sure he gets it. Then he nods again, slowly, and swallows.

"He never kissed me," he whispers, his eyes lowered behind long golden lashes. "No one ever kissed me before, and I never wanted to kiss anyone, Monty, until I met you. Only you."

Somehow, I know he's telling the truth, and when he reaches for me again, I don't resist, and I taste the sweet salt of his tears on his lips.

~ ☾ ~

Later that night, while everyone else is watching a movie, I take Dane outside and (with Kit's permission) I tell him what Kit had told me.

"That's some fucked-up shit," Dane says. "Unfortunately, it doesn't surprise me. We knew the Mortaines were into that 'purebred' bullshit, but I'm sure mom and dad never suspected anything like this."

Despite his words, I sense a hint of uncertainty in his tone. Our parents and Kit's uncle—Obadiah Mortaine—had arranged a match between their alpha-born children, after all. If Dane had been more interested in growing the Pack and his power, and less in solving crime and following his heart, I might be surrounded by a very different group of people right now.

Or not. I doubt Wolves like me, or Freya, would be welcome in a Pack like that. And who knows what would have happened to Kit.

"Yeah. And it sounds like this 'Ferrault' guy is even worse," I say, sipping the hard cider Sasha had poured for me. "Got some weird Nazi name for his Pack, too—the 'White Dawn.' Thinks he's destined to be some kind of Alpha god or something, and rule all Wolves.