Chapter 5 : Rebuilding

*Vanessa*

I tell myself that it must just be the excitement of the night’s celebration, and the foolish happiness I feel at having been invited to this dinner that has made me skittish and stupid.

There must be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why Elder Luka seemed to vanish without a trace. Never mind that the territory is small and that the square is even smaller. Never mind that it shouldn’t technically make sense for them to have disappeared the way they did. Yep, there must be a logical reason that my still-muddied brain just can’t quite comprehend yet.

Regardless, their words play in my head over and over again until I have them memorized.

'The fated mate bond is not the be-all and end-all of your journey, Vanessa. You can still be happy. You deserve to be happy.'

Those words challenge everything I thought I knew about fated mates and even the Goddess herself. I’d held onto the belief that finding a mate would mean finding a family for as long as I could remember.

I spent my entire life alone since my parents died. My aunt and uncle did their best to raise me with everything I needed, but they didn't sign up to be my parents and they never even tried to fill those shoes. I never blamed them for that. I wasn’t their responsibility after all.

But it still hurt, the years of seeing other shifters my age grow up surrounded by love, seeing them celebrate milestones with their parents and siblings, and knowing that it was something I was never going to be able to experience myself.

The idea of finding a mate was the one thing that gave me solace. I thought that if I found the person that was meant to love me, and who I was meant to love, I’d have the chance of having a new family. A home.

Trent destroyed all such delusions.

But if Elder Luka’s words are true — and I tend to believe that they are — then maybe I misunderstood not only the purpose of a mate, but the idea of what happiness actually is. Maybe I have a different path to blaze for myself.

The idea is equally as frightening as it is exciting, but it gives me a sense of purpose that I’ve never really felt as an outsider to my old pack. Maybe, just maybe, I can etch out a role for myself. Maybe I can decide where I fit in.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur of revelry, and by the time it ends and I’m escorted back to the infirmary by Amara, I’ve partaken in giving thanks of my own. Whether to the Moon Goddess or Elder Luka, I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that my perspective has begun to shift and that I no longer want to leave my happiness in the hands of others.

The next morning, I decide to be brave and ask Amara if I can have an audience with Shawn. I’m not sure what the formalities are here as each pack tends to have its own dynamics. With Trent, unless we were in direct connection to him, lower wolves had to go through his Beta to even broach conversation with him.

But Amara, while slightly surprised, doesn’t offer any suggestion that getting Shawn to talk to me will be as difficult, regardless of my outsider status.

“I can ask him for you. I’m sure he’ll find the time,” she says and again, I’m taken aback by how much more informal the pack dynamic is here. Even more so, I’m shocked that Shawn would even entertain my request. I know that he told me that I wasn’t a prisoner here, and the pack’s general wariness of me is not unwarranted but still… I can’t help but think that Trent would never treat a stray shifter with even a fraction of this dignity.

Shawn comes to see me in the late afternoon.

When he enters the room, I’m reminded again of his presence, of the power he holds behind his quiet demeanor. His blue eyes rove over me for a moment, evaluating and patient.

“How are you feeling, Vanessa?” he asks, and a strange warmth blooms in my stomach at the way my name sounds on his lips.

“Better,” I say, suddenly self-conscious of the bruises and scrapes that have yet to heal fully. I don’t know why I feel so disheveled by him. It annoys me as much as it intrigues me.

“Good to hear,” he replies, folding his arms. My eyes drift to the tattoo markings and I immediately revert my gaze back to his amused face. “Are you settling in okay?”

I give an uncertain nod.

“That’s not exactly a very enthusiastic answer,” he points out.

I debate whether or not I’m in a position to be transparent with him. Considering he came all the way to see me to begin with, I doubt I’m risking much. “Well … things are very different here, that’s all.”

“Different?” Shawn raises an eyebrow, curious now. “Different how?”

I think for a second, trying to put what I’m feeling into words. “It’s warmer than my pack. Less rigid. Last night for example. I didn’t expect to get invited to the dinner to begin with, much less to see you there.”

He shakes his head. “I told you before that you aren’t a prisoner. You’re our guest. A guest under probation but still a guest, nonetheless. And I don’t plan on being the sort of Alpha that keeps himself so removed from his own pack that they don’t know why they follow him.”

I pause, contemplative. I don’t know how many other Alphas have a similar mentality, one where they feel they have to earn the right to leadership regardless of whatever blood right they were born or mated into.

I know that when I thought there was even the possibility of me becoming Luna, I wanted to ensure I earned that position through my own merit and not because I’d simply been mated to the Alpha. Knowing that Shawn seems to feel something similar makes me slightly more comfortable presenting my request.

“That’s an honorable mentality to have,” I tell him.

“Thank you,” he replies, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. He must be only a few years older than me, in his mid-twenties or so. I can’t imagine the amount of strain he must be under in trying to pull the pack out of dire straits.

And maybe selfishly, I’m hoping that makes him almost as desperate as I am.

He clears his throat. “Amara said you wanted to speak to me about something.”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking and I have a proposal for you.” I clear my own throat, mentally preparing to deliver the speech I practiced a hundred times before he walked through that door. I need to sound like I know what I’m talking about. I need to sound confident and self-assured or this is never going to work. “I’m sure you understand that I can’t exactly go back to my old pack. Not after what happened. Going back would be a death sentence.”

His eyes soften slightly at my words. I ignore the urge to tell him not to feel bad about it, despite the fact that he was the one who found me in that miserable state. The last thing I want is his pity.

But I don't do that. Instead, I continue as smoothly as possible.

“But I don't have anywhere else to go. I have no ties to any other packs and no family or friends to take me anywhere else. I know that I still have to prove myself as trustworthy to you, and I intend to do that with my actions. Which is why I'd like to strike a deal.”

Shawn’s eyes glint with interest, his mouth tugging itself into a half-smile as he listens intently.

“Go ahead,” he encourages.

“I have skills that I can offer Ashborne,” I say simply. “I know quite a bit about pack politics. I have extensive knowledge about most of the main groups and their leaders, as well as their strengths and weaknesses. I know about good hunting strategies. I can help stabilize this pack and secure your role as Alpha.”

That makes him straighten up. He clearly wasn’t expecting that.

He watches me carefully, as though he’s trying to figure out whether or not I’m trying to trick him with a deal that seems too good to be true. “That’s quite the offer. What exactly was your role in your old pack? Lower wolves don’t usually concern themselves with these kinds of interests.”

“My old role was irrelevant.” I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth about what happened. The wound is still too fresh, the pain too raw. But I need to get him to trust me.

The amusement on his face has gone now, replaced by a leader’s suspicion. “And what would you want in return?”

“I want to become a member of Ashborne. I want to have a place to belong.”

I must sound either shady or desperate. I’m the latter. As much as my pride doesn’t want to admit that to him, I hope that he can see enough of it in my face and hear it in my voice to agree.

He seems to mull this over, turning around to look at the door, and I imagine he’s thinking about his pack and weighing up his options. He must know that this deal favors him if I can just get him to understand that I can be a good asset.

“How do I know that I can trust you?” he eventually asks.

Despite myself, I actually roll my eyes. “Well, if nothing else, you’d have to admire the dedication of being practically mauled to death just to get me in here.”

That takes him by surprise and he gives a little laugh. Despite it being so short a sound, his laugh is pleasant to hear; oddly melodic for a man with such a low voice.

“Right. Fair point.” He unfolds his arms and puts them behind his back, taking a step toward the bed. “And how would I be convinced that your skills are actually what you say they are?”

“I wouldn’t have much room to deceive you. You’d find out soon enough if I was worth the deal.” I stand up, taking a few steps forward in determination. “All I’m asking for is a chance.”

Shawn sighs. “Look, I want to give that to you. But in order for that to happen, I need to know that I can trust you.”

He looks at me with questioning eyes and I know what it is that he wants to know. He wants to know how I ended up in the situation that I did.

I swallow hard, wringing out the memories until I can squeeze as much pain from them as possible to leave only the facts of what happened behind. It takes me a while, and I still can’t tell him everything. But he’ll just have to accept what I’m willing to admit.

“I was cast out of my pack and even before then, I was always on the outskirts. I can’t … I can’t tell you more than that. At least not yet.” I keep my voice steady. “All that you have to know is that I am serious about being accepted as a member here and that I’ll pull my weight.”

That seems to somewhat satisfy his curiosity, even if it is a vague answer. He nods, but not in acquiescence. It’s more like the gesture of someone who’s planning on returning to the topic later. In other words, my answer will do … for now.

Somehow, only now do I realize that we’ve essentially moved close enough to each other to reach out and touch. He’s close enough for me to smell him. He smells like oak and pine mixed with his own unique scent. He smells like the woods, like someone who’s found their freedom there.

Catching myself, I step back. He doesn’t though, still watching me with those eyes. He looks as though he’s never seen me before, and I figure out that it’s the first time he’s seen me up close since he brought me into the infirmary a few days ago. It’s the first time we’re this close that I’m not matted with blood or crippled with pain.

I can’t decipher the expression he wears, but almost as soon as I clock it, it disappears beneath his cool mask.

“Alright, deal,” he says, and his voice betrays none of the confusion I feel at the moment that just passed between us. “Give me some time to come up with a trial. If you pass, you’re officially one of Ashborne’s strategists. If you fail, it’s back to the drawing board. Is that fine with you?”

“Yes,” I say, maybe with too much enthusiasm because his mouth twitches. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

And it is. I appreciate that more than I can express to Shawn, so I settle on a small smile of my own. I’ve been given an opportunity to prove myself here, so I’ll do everything I possibly can so Shawn and his wolves can trust me and accept me as one of their own.