Roman

XII

Many weeks have passed since Roman told me about his past. I can tell something has changed between us, but I'm not quite sure what it is.

As I sit and watch the young pups play in the grass with their siblings, I begin to wonder about my future. Our future.

The rogue packs have begun to terrorize the pack, especiallyt the ones furthest from the alpha. I, honestly, am nervous. I've begun to notice that I'm always looking over my shoulder, not just me, but everyone.

Roman told me that someone, one of the leaders, have been leaking information to the rogues. Which is why they're able to attack so easily.

I can tell it's stressing Roman out. He's always tense, speaking short to his pack mates. I'm beginning to worry.

"He'll be okay, you know," Aria says, coming to sit next to me on the patio.

"What? Who?" I question, surprised by her statement.

"Roman," she answers. "I can see that you're worried."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, "I know, but I just-I wish it could just be over. I want peace."

"Everyone does, which is why we have to work together to keep our spirits alive," she replies.

I nod, "you know, you're my best friend, Aria, my sister."

She smiles, "as you are for me."

"Lena."

I turn and see Roman at the back door, eyes tired, fists clenched. He looks as handsome as ever.

"Yes?" I ask.

"We need to talk," he tells me.

I look at Aria, who gives me an encouraging smile, before standing and walking after him.

He leads me up to his office, closing the door behind him.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

"You're leaving," he states, not looking at me.

"Wait, what?"

"Simon is taking you and Aria to Canada tomorrow. I don't want you here when this war happens, it's dangerous," he says.

"Roman, no-"

"I have to, Lena! I don't have a choice," he snaps.

I feel a tear slip down my cheek and his eyes soften when they land on me, as does his voice, "I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice. I can't let you get hurt."

I step towards him and he takes me into his arms, burying his face into my neck.

"When?" I ask, my voice shaky.

"Four days."

I cry then, and he lets me. He sits down into a chair, taking me on to his lap and holds me while I cry.

He pets my head, whispering gentle words to me. He kisses the side of my head, "amor est fortior aliquid."

"Please let me stay with you," I beg.

"I can't," he whispers, leaning his forehead on mine. "I can't."

"Can we go to bed? Please," I ask him.

He nods, picking me up and carrying me to his room. He sets me down gently before getting into bed next to me.

"How long?" I question, resting my head on his chest.

"I'm not sure," he answers. "Could be a week, could be a year, could be longer or somewhere in between. I'll come for you, though. I promise."