#chapter fifty

Cinderpaw was heaving for air by the time they caught sight of the bramble wall that hid the entrance. Fireheart wasn’t much better—he had been pushing her, both physically and verbally, and offering sharp encouragement whenever she looked back the way they’d come with bulging eyes, the dark green of them somehow even darker. More than once, she had stopped, trembling, and pleaded that they go back and save Yellowfang. Fireheart didn’t have it in him right now to gently refuse her; he had just pushed her again and told her they needed to go. Cinderpaw’s head hung half the run, her nose nearly to the ground.

When they burst into camp, gasping and grieving, the Clan was all back, Dustpelt’s patrol just having returned and choosing prey from the prey-pile. Every eye turned to them in alarm, which turned to fear as they unanimously realized the young cats were alone.

Dustpelt jumped up and hurried over to Fireheart, tail bushy. “What happened? Where are Whitecloud and Yellowfang?”

“Dog,” Fireheart wheezed. He fought the desire to sink to his belly and faint. “Dog.”

A wave of shocked cries and hisses rippled out, Fireheart as the epicenter. He focused on breathing, his mind so foggy with fright and sorrow that he could barely think. Dustpelt was asking him something. He viciously shook his head, which only made him dizzy, and looked back up.

“Where was the dog?” Dustpelt asked again. Fireheart was grateful that he didn’t sound angry.

“At the neutral grounds,” Fireheart managed. “Found us right as we hit the border.”

Cinderpaw was shaking beside him, whispering something. Fireheart thought it was a prayer.

“Cinderpaw—” Willowpelt pushed her way through the crowd and up alongside Dustpelt. “Did you get hurt?”

Cinderpaw shook her head.

“Are…” Willowpelt shivered. “Are Whitecloud and Yellowfang dead?”

“They attacked the dog to save us,” Fireheart said mournfully, barely staying on his feet. “We escaped. I’m sure I heard it kill them.”

Murmurs of grief and horror now, and cats looking at each other with a shared worry that Fireheart saw in Dustpelt’s eyes, and felt in his own.

We don’t have a leader or a seer now.

“And you ran away, like a coward,” Darkstripe growled to his right. “Right after you promised us we’d be safe. How heroic—”

Dustpelt sharply rounded on Darkstripe. “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, you’re going out to collect the bodies on your own.”

Darkstripe sneered at him, but he grit his teeth and scowled at the ground silently.

Fireheart straightened up, even as his stomach rolled and he wanted to sink to his side and sleep forever. “Where’s Bluestar?”

“She’s in her den.” Dustpelt raised a paw. “Listen, you need to recover. I can tell her—”

“No,” Fireheart said, desperately wanting to agree. “She’s most comfortable with me, and I was out there. I should talk to her.”

Ravenwing carefully wove around Willowpelt and approached Fireheart, Greystripe behind him. “Well, you’re not doing it alone.”

“Especially with a dog around,” Greystripe added.

Fireheart’s entire body eased, his swimming mind finally pulling itself out of its muddy, circular river. He nodded gratefully, turning to lead them out as Brightpaw, Mousefur and Willowpelt came to Cinderpaw’s side and started murmuring to her, helping her crouch without collapsing and purring soothingly.

The trio exited camp, leaving the sounds of a quietly panicking Clan behind, and made an immediate turn left. Bluestar’s den had not stopped smelling, even from this distance. Fireheart took in a breath, but still hesitated at the lichen curtains in its entryway.

“You guys should stay out here,” he warned his friends. “This won’t go well.”

They shook their heads together. Ravenwing said firmly, “We’re doing this with you, whether you like it or not.”

Fireheart didn’t have the energy to combat him, and truthfully, he didn’t want to. He blinked gratefully and led the way in, Greystripe ducking as he came in last.

Bluestar, surprisingly, was awake, and she lifted her scraggly-furred head, squinting warily at the young warriors.

“Hello,” Fireheart said quietly. “Do you know me?”

Bluestar tilted her head, peering at her old apprentice with confusion. “No. Who are you?”

“My name is Fireheart,” he said, aware of his friends watching him in concern. “I’m afraid I have some very bad news. It’s about Whitecloud, your nephew.”

Slowly, with great effort, Bluestar sat up. Her fur was matted in places, and all of it shone with grease. She rasped, “Right, ah… White…cloud. Yes. What is it?”

Fireheart braced himself, not sure whether he was hoping that she wouldn’t react or that she would. “He just died. A dog attacked him and killed him.”

Bluestar blinked, eyes wide.

“He saved two lives in the process, including me,” Fireheart said, as gentle as he could manage. “But he’s gone. I wanted to tell you right away.”

Bluestar stared at him, not speaking for a long time. Greystripe and Ravenwing shuffled their back legs nervously, and Fireheart kept his gaze on his leader. He waited for anger, or shock, but…

“Right,” Bluestar said again. “Whitecloud.”

Ravenwing spoke hesitantly. “Do… do you remember him?”

Bluestar blinked again, then looked down. “I swear I do… but we have Whitekit already, don’t we?” She tilted her head questioningly at Fireheart. “Why is there a Whitecloud?”

A familiar knot settled in his throat, his stomach twisting. “It’s… it’s not important.” With his friends’ eyes on him, he forced a patient, cheerful tone that could not have more betrayed its fakeness. “The important thing is that he was your deputy, and we need a new one as soon as possible to replace him.”

Bluestar wobbled where she sat, scrunching up her face in thought. “I see. Then… then the new deputy…” Her eyes widened, inspired. “Ah! The new deputy will be Tigerclaw.”

She might as well have thrown Fireheart against the wall of the den with that punch to his gut. His friends weren’t much better; Greystripe flinched back and Ravenwing bowed his head, eyes shut tight.

“I’m afraid he won’t work,” Fireheart managed to say calmly. “We have to think of someone else.”

“Fireheart, I don’t think she can think of anyone else,” Greystripe whispered.

“I know,” Fireheart whispered back. “We have to help her.”

“That’s not what I…”

“The cats who can be deputy right now,” Fireheart said louder, “are Dustpelt, Mousefur, Willowpelt, Lizardtail, Ravenwing…” He hesitated. “And me.”

“I wouldn’t choose Ravenwing,” his skinny friend said quickly. “That’s… that’s me. I’m a bad idea.”

Bluestar didn’t acknowledge him. She peered at Fireheart, not really seeing him, visibly struggling to think.

“Whitecloud would suggest Dustpelt or Fireheart,” Greystripe said, careful and awkward. “He was going to have one of them be his deputy in the future.”

A long, long pause. Then Bluestar huffed and slowly laid back down, her chin on the edge of her dried nest.

“I want to think about it,” she croaked. “I want to think about all these cats.”

“Er—” Ravenwing cleared his throat. “We kind of need to choose as quickly as we can.”

“I’ll choose.” Bluestar weakly flicked a paw in his general direction. “I want to think. Leave me be. Go back to…”

She trailed off, eyes vacant.

Fireheart sighed, bowed his head and gestured with his tail. “Let’s go.”

“But…” Greystripe started.

“I’ll come back to see her,” Fireheart said. “Let’s give her space and talk to the Clan.”

His friends looked at each other, then closed their mouths and followed Fireheart out of the den. Bluestar didn’t make a sound as they left. Fireheart couldn’t bring himself to look back at her.

They reentered camp, everyone watching the tunnel and perking up when they emerged. Dustpelt was closest, flanked by One-eye and Halftail.

“What’d she say?” Dustpelt asked.

Fireheart shook his head dully. “She sent us away to think about it.”

“We don’t have time for her to think about it!” Frostfur stood up from where she sat with her sons, bristling. “The Gathering is about to happen; we need someone to go in her stead, and we need someone to lead us!”

“Can we even go to the Gathering?” Teaselfoot asked, tail tapping nervously. “What if that dog is going to make its home in the neutral grounds?”

“Regardless of if we do,” Lizardtail said, “we need a leader to make that decision.”

The Clan turned to each other, seeking a solution, their volume steadily rising with anxiety. Halftail turned his head back and gave a loud, deep, rumbling growl that swiftly silenced everyone as he and One-eye turned fully to the crowd.

“We’re not completely bereft of options,” One-eye said. “Even if Bluestar doesn’t choose in time.”

“When day comes, if she hasn’t chosen a replacement deputy, we will select someone,” Halftail continued.

One-eye nodded. “Whitecloud spoke to us several times about who he wanted to lead after him.” Her long, skeletal tail waved twice, pointing separately to Dustpelt and Fireheart. “And we agreed with him that these two are our best choices.”

Fireheart braced for objections. He immediately got one.

“You can’t be serious,” Darkstripe said, staring. He gestured angrily with a paw to Fireheart. “Him? He hasn’t even fully raised an apprentice!”

“Neither has Dustpelt,” Lizardtail said dryly. “And yet I’d rather follow both of them than you.”

“I agree.” Mousefur nodded to the elders. “They’ve proven themselves. I think either one will be good.”

Fireheart chanced a glance at Dustpelt. Despite his puffed-out chest and serious face, his tail was low to the ground and slightly trembling.

Voices rose again, but this time they sounded more confident. Cats nodded in approval or offered a vote on who to choose as deputy if Bluestar was too slow.

Halftail raised his voice. “Then we’re in agreement. By the morning, if a deputy has not been named, Dustpelt or Fireheart will take Bluestar’s place.”

“And now we wait for her to choose,” One-eye said. She let out a rickety sigh, speaking now to Halftail. “I almost think we ought to vote ourselves and have the winner retire her.”

Halftail flicked an ear in acknowledgement. “Worst comes to worst, that’s what we’ll do. We can give her this last choice.”

Something brushed against Fireheart’s pelt; when he looked, Ravenwing had come to stand beside him, and Greystripe was arriving on his other side.

“You ready for this?” Greystripe asked in a low voice.

Fireheart breathed in, only now registering the knots of fear in his chest. “I’ll have to be.”

“Well…” Ravenwing bumped his forehead against Fireheart’s shoulder. “Whoever gets picked, we’re here for you.”

Fireheart returned the gesture, purring despite himself.

The night went on slowly after that: Fireheart and Cinderpaw had to repeat exactly what happened to Whitecloud and Yellowfang multiple times to different cats, the pain worsening with each telling. Conversation turned to how they would retrieve Whitecloud and Yellowfang—if there was anything left to collect—how Cinderpaw was going to get her name, and how the other Clans would react to such a shrunken, weakened ThunderClan. Consensus was that they would have to act strong and confident at the Gathering. Fireheart made a mental note to speak honestly if he was to lead them there.

When the stars began fading, and the sky paled in the distance, Dustpelt and Fireheart went to the elders.

“Bluestar ought to have a choice now,” Halftail said. “One way or another. She’s had time to think about it.”

“And if she chooses someone that isn’t either of you…” One-eye winked. “We’ll just veto her selection.”

Fireheart sighed an incredibly weak excuse for a chuff, nodded and said, “I’ll talk to her. Dustpelt, do you want to come?”

“I do.” Dustpelt turned away from the elders as Fireheart did. “Mostly because I don’t want you foisting leadership on me if she says your name.”

This chuff was a little more genuine. The toms padded across the clearing together, every eye on them, and Fireheart took the lead to pass through the entrance tunnel. They turned and continued on to Bluestar’s den, stopping just in front of it and peering through the lichen to see a sleeping form, half-hidden by shadows.

Dustpelt wrinkled his nose and sighed through it. “She needs to become an elder as soon as possible. This isn’t sustainable.”

“It isn’t,” Fireheart agreed morosely. “I was hoping she’d get to die as a leader, but… I guess that’s just not realistic anymore.”

Dustpelt gave him a sympathetic expression. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this. I should’ve been helping you.”

Fireheart nodded faintly. “I appreciate that, but it’s best that I’ve been doing it. Me and… and Whitecloud, I mean. Even after she forgot us, she’s been reacting positively to our visits.” Before Dustpelt could say anything else, he shook out his pelt and straightened up. “Let’s see who she chose, then.”

Dustpelt looked like he wanted to say more, but he just jerked his chin down and followed Fireheart through the lichen.

Bluestar, surprisingly, was awake. She hadn’t even changed positions from when Fireheart had left earlier: her chin was on the edge of the nest, eyes dull and empty. She gave no indication that she’d heard either of them.

Or saw them.

…Or that she was breathing.

“Bluestar, we’re here to…” Dustpelt started, then trailed off. He sniffed, then froze.

Fireheart, already knowing and desperately hoping it wasn’t so, crouched in front of her still nose. “Bluestar?”

No response. He pawed at her ear. It didn’t twitch.

“Road trips are fraught with danger,” Mattie replied. “Besides, what do I get out of a road trip?”

“You get a destination with different tastes and smells and a harbour and a thriving downtown core and a citadel and cannons and music. And markets. What’s not for you?”

“I don’t think that bustling waterfront happens until summer,” Mattie said. “It’s only May.”

“It all starts after Victoria Day. A few weeks and things get going. And exams will all be over. I’ll help you marking if you need it.”

“Do you ever regret not travelling to places you wanted to see?”

“What do you mean? We went all over the place as kids.”

“Just anywhere you could drive. We never went to Europe, or South America, or Asia. We never even got to Bermuda or the Bahamas like so many people we knew. Don’t you regret it?”

“Well, I’m not dead yet,” Amber said. “There’s still a chance I’ll travel somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Mattie said. “I guess so.”

“You, too,” she said.

“Yeah. Probably not,” Mattie said.

“You can still travel, Bro. It’d be different, but still enjoyable, still valid, still doable.”

“Yeah, I can hear about the view from the Eiffel Tower while standing at the Eiffel Tower.”

“No, more than just hearing about the views. Why are you thinking about travelling?”

“I don’t know. You talking about Halifax, and... I was talking about it with Jennifer a few weeks ago. She travelled a bit, and... I realised that I won’t ever get to see any of the things people dream of seeing. It just hit me a bit harder than I expected.”

Amber opened the door, touching Mattie’s sleeve to let him know she was going inside. He held his hand out to the screen door, keeping it open as he passed through.

Amber headed to wash her hands, calling back to him. “I didn’t even think about that, Xav. I’m sorry. I still think you could enjoy it in other ways. Don’t rule it out. Maybe you’ll have someone to travel with who makes it more special to you than just going and looking at old structures and paintings.” She came back into the living room, where Mattie was standing near the window. “You never know,” she said. “Don’t rule anything out, Hun. Don’t underestimate yourself. Leave that to everyone else.”

Mattie groaned, tipping his head back. “You say all the right things,” he said, glibly.

“Come on, Xav. It will be a good break. You need to break out of your box.”

“I know my box. I’m less likely to die in my box. Please don’t break my box.”

“You’re rambling. Stop making excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses. I have legitimate reasons.”

“I think they’re the same thing in this instance. You have lots of time between now and convocation. You have all the essays done and you only have the easy, boring shit to grade, and I can help with that if you give me a grading key I don’t have to read with my fingers. Please, Xav, I want to go, and I don’t have anyone else. You and I always do this stuff together. Come on!”

“Amber, It’s not the same. I don’t think it’s fair that you have to drive the whole time. And it’s not fair that you have to pretty much drag me around with you like an inattentive ball and chain.”

“Stop it, Xav. It’s also not fair that you can’t see the view from the Citadel and you can’t look at the colourful crafts being sold on the street. Nope, it’s not fair. And you know what else? It’s not fair that we can’t fly to somewhere beautiful like other people do, and spend money like there’s no tomorrow. And it’s not fair that I can’t get a decent pair of jeans that fit my hips and my waist. And it’s not fair that neither one of us is with someone when all of our friends have hooked up.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he said, holding up his hands.

“I’m saying that things aren’t fair. And you just work with what you got. And I got you, and you got me. I have a decent car that will get us across the country if need be. You have money. I have credit cards. I don’t mind driving. You know how to work that map thing on your phone. You can be the navigator.”

“The ironic navigator,” he mumbled.

“Think of the bagpipe music. You can use them as sound landmarks around the city.”

Mattie just gave her the exasperated look she had expected to see on his face, and she patted his arm. “You made it around Halifax just fine before,” she said. “Didn’t you do any kind of touring?”

“I guess I was too busy learning how to find my bed, and not fall over fire hydrants,” he said.

Amber said nothing to that, because she knew it was true. He couldn’t have enjoyed Halifax that way then.

“You should go back,” she said. “I mean, not to the school, I mean to the city. And then we can go to Montréal next. ”

“I am not even agreeing to Halifax, and you want me going to Montréal?”

“I would take you to Cairo if I could afford it,” she said.

“Yeah, there’s really nothing more rewarding than taking a blind guy to see the pyramids and the deserts and the Sphinxes.”

Amber almost replied but then realised she had no argument for that. At least, not at the moment. She would have to think on that for a while and get back to him.

“Well, I’m taking one to smell the air off the bay and hear the buskers in the streets of Halifax, so...”

“Amber. I don’t want a road trip. I don’t want to sightsee. I don’t want to be somewhere I don’t know.”

“For someone so daring, you’re a big chicken,” she said.

“You think it’s so simple, well, it’s not. It’s hard. It’s so much harder than it was. I can’t just pack a bag, hop in a car, and drive somewhere. I have to have a plan, I have to have an arm, and all these stupid gadgets and aids to do anything. I have to have a drive and a running commentary about what is going on. It’s not a vacation, Amber. It’s work. For everyone involved.”

Amber knew that he did need those things, but she also knew that it was worth it to keep on doing things in his life. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t know until you try it.”

He hated when she told him to stop feeling sorry for himself, because she didn’t have to do what he did every day. She’d feel sorry for herself, too, he figured.

He also knew she was right.

She knew she had him thinking. She wanted him to want this. The last thing she wanted to do was drive ten hours with him sitting sulking beside her.

“I know you have more adventure in you than sitting around here all the time,” she said. “Live a little. It’s only a few days. And I won’t lose you, I promise. I’ll even let you choose the music.”

Mattie sighed and shook his head before tipping it back and sighing again in defeat. Amber knew she had him.

Mattie pulled his suitcase down the stairs to the front door and put it against the wall. He skimmed his fingers over the list he had made for packing, mentally checking everything off, knowing where he’d placed everything inside the case. It was actually less frustrating to him to pack a suitcase he couldn’t see. He didn’t pack as much, and it was so well organised and folded or in zip-lock bags that it gave him some comfort with its order. Things took longer, true, but they were far more practical than the haphazard way he’d done them before.

He was starting to feel more agreeable to the idea of this road trip, but he still was apprehensive about the details. He intended to try and enjoy the trip itself, and he had audiobooks on his phone in case the scenery got too dull. He had music, he had two sets of earphones, he had his watch and his charging cable. He wanted to keep down any anxiety that might arise from being ill-prepared. They had water and cookies and crackers and apples for the drive. Amber had assured him he would be glad of this excursion into the unknown. He’d replied that everywhere was an excursion into the unknown for him. But he was going to try.

“If you hate it, I won’t make you travel outside your world again. But if you have a good time, then it’s Québec City next.”

Amber pulled in the driveway. She’d had Peter give her car a check-up and it was filled with fluids and the tires were pumped up, so that was also a comfort to Mattie. The last thing he wanted to be doing was walking the side of a road outside Truro in the May rain.

He had the door open and was pulling his suitcase behind him as Amber hurried over to the stairs.

“Got everything?”

“I hope so. I think so. You bring the cooler and stuff?”

“Everything is in. Even a real map.”

“A real map, huh?”

“Well... I guess it’s only real to me. I think everything is ready. I called the Brookdale Inn and got us a suite. Or room. Or whatever they are. I think it’s a glorified motel. Motel with class?”

“Sounds devine. As long as it has a bed and some heat, I really am not particular. Wait, does it have one bed or two?”

“I got a room with two singles, don’t worry, you prude.”

“I’m not a prude, I just feel that I’ve slept in the same bed with you way too many times and I’m good.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, as if to punctuate his contentment with a single bed.

“Did you lock your back door?”

“Yes, and if you move, I’ll lock the front door, too.”

“Sorry, sorry, moving. You have the case?”

“Yep, go ahead.”

She opened the trunk of her car and helped him to load his suitcase in. She didn’t tell him her suitcase was twice the size of his, to do the three days and two nights they would be away. She wasn’t sure how she ended up with so much every time, but she always assumed she would need things and overcompensated in her preparation.

“You gonna ride shotgun?” Amber asked, hoping Mattie didn’t isolate himself in the backseat out of spite.

He nodded, feeling her arm gently shake his hand in a motion toward the car. He automatically reached forward and touched the side of the car, and walked up the passenger side. He took his messenger bag off and opened the door. He leaned in, putting the bag just to the right on the floor, against the console, and then folded up his cane and climbed into the car.

Amber was beside him, pulling on her seatbelt. “You ready, Butch Cassidy?”

He smiled at her. He was tired and not feeling talkative, but he knew his mood would open up before the hour was out. It was still early, and he’d woken in the middle of the night, his nerves keeping him from staying asleep. Once awake, he had a hard time getting back to sleep. He had, on different doctors’ suggestions, kept his room a place for sleeping and dressing. He didn’t have a television in there, and he didn’t use his laptop in there. He didn’t even read in there. Without eyes, the activities in the night darkness were exactly the same as doing them in the day, and that only set Mattie’s brain to confusion and disorientation. So Mattie had gotten up, used the bathroom, went and got a drink of water, and checked the time. He chanced on the notion of tricking his brain that he wasn’t really awake by keeping his eyelids closed. He’d headed immediately back to bed, not wanting to become so fully awake that he wouldn’t fall back asleep again.

At least he wasn’t going to be driving, he thought.

“There’s candy in the glove compartment,” Amber told him. “When you need sugar. I loaded up at work yesterday.”

“Good thinking,” he said, nodding.

Amber let him be quiet for a while, and did all the talking. She talked about the new people that had moved into the neighbourhood. She talked about Barbie’s new haircut. She told him things she saw as they drove. She worked his mood gently, bringing him out of his shell. He’d never been a talker in the morning. Amber, on the other hand, was a morning person through-and-through, and she knew it drove him nuts, so she tried not to be too cloying or too chipper.

They stopped to grab some caffeine; Amber ordered a French Vanilla and Mattie had his Earl Grey tea. She was careful when she put the car into drive, making sure he wouldn’t spill it when the car went forward.

Shortly after, Mattie leaned forward and found the radio dials. Amber thought at first he just wanted her to stop talking to him, but he turned the volume down to a level they could talk over. He just needed some background scenery to fill in the holes.

“So are there any things you would like to try?” she asked. He shrugged. “Food or something? Or go on a boat? We could go to the Bluenose. Remember when we were on it when we were kids?”

He nodded, and didn’t reply right away.

“I’m going to look at kilts,” Amber said. “I like our tartan. Lot of history in that tartan.”

Mattie frowned. “What colour is it again?” he asked. “Red?”

“The one I always knew was red, with light blue squares and black plaid lines. Is that the one you’re thinking of?”

He nodded. “I guess.”

“You should have a tartan.”

“Oh, yeah, I have lots of occasions I could wear a kilt to,” Mattie said. “Those things are expensive.”

“Well, I want to go look at them, anyway. Okay. Your turn.”

“What.”

“Something you want to do.”

“I don’t know. All the things I want to do are not doable.”

“Why not? What do you want to do?”

His cheek flicked in regret. “I want to go to museums and art galleries. I want to browse the art shops. I want to read about the history of the landmark I’m admiring.” When she didn’t answer him, he turned his face toward her just a little. “See what I mean?”

She thought about it for a minute. “I’m going to figure it out,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mattie said.

“I will and you can just let me,” she said. “I’m going to get Mum some of that candy she likes, too.”

Mattie turned his head to her and smiled. “Good idea.”

“She really enjoyed herself on her birthday, didn’t she?” Amber said, a smile in her words.

“I think so. She sounded like it. I could hear it. She felt better, too. She said they’d cut the new meds back a bit and mixed with something like her old medication.”

“It’s so confusing,” Amber said.

“Well, I know she liked the supper, she even had dessert,” Mattie said with a grin. “And her friend Dianne can really put it away, too.”

“How do you know that?” Amber said, laughing.

Mattie just grinned more.

“Well, I think Mum loved it, and she liked the pendant I bought her. And she liked that book you gave her. She told me yesterday she was getting close to finishing it.”

“I gave her two,” Mattie said. “So she’s still good for a bit.”

He leaned forward and his fingers graced the glove compartment lines, locating the latch to open it. He felt some paper bags filled with soft candy and brought out two of them. Inside one was sour candy and sugar candy, in the other were gummies and ju-jubes. Mattie took a candy from each bag and held the bags out to Amber. She pulled some from one bag as she drove and Mattie put the candy in the gap in the console.

“You know we’re gonna have fun,” Amber said to him seriously.

“Yeah,” Mattie said, not sounding convinced. “I just... you know how much I love history, I loved touring around historical places and museums and art galleries. Just seeing the art that someone made, hundreds of years before. It always just gave me... like, I don’t know, a thrill or something. Knowing I’m standing in the place that hundreds have stood, years upon years in the past...” He took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out with frustration. “I won’t be able to do that anymore. I can’t look at the buildings and the architecture, the size and grandeur of it, and the art, and the fields where battles were fought, and the silhouette of a lighthouse on the rocks. And you don’t know how much that hurts.” His voice was low.

Amber realised there may have been more reason to him not wanting to be in the middle of the history of Halifax, or anywhere, for that matter. “I’m sorry, Hun. I didn’t mean to rub it in your face. That wasn’t my intention.”

“No, I know that.” He didn’t blame her for this feeling. He scowled and turned his face away, toward the window, shielding it from her view. “I won’t ever get to see the world. And sometimes I just... can’t deal with that. I mean, I can get up and clean the kitchen and go to work and go out with my friends, I have that all down now. But I can’t ever go out and see these amazing things anymore, and it makes these special occasions quite painful. I won’t see Stonehenge. I won’t see the Grand Canyon. I won’t see the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I can’t even see the Citadel of Halifax and we’re going to be there in a few hours.”

He fell silent. He regretted his openness on the subject; the last thing he wanted to do was to make Amber’s trip miserable.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “You’re not going to miss out on experiencing the things you love. I won’t let that happen, we’re going to figure it out somehow. There’s always a way, right? That’s what you tell me all the time.”

Mattie couldn’t think of anything that would give him the experiences in travel that he’d have if he could see, but he nodded anyway.

“I’m not going to enjoy it without you, Xav. I wanted you to come so we could do this together.”

He nodded again. “Okay,” he said, and Amber smiled over at him. He sounded like the little boy who had been hurt and then promised an ice-cream sandwich for his troubles. Her heart ached for that little boy. She would let him feel the history and art he craved so much, somehow. Whether it was in the echoing chamber of cathedrals, or whether it was feeling the ocean air come off the bay at the top of Citadel Hill, or feeling the carved stone in the old structures or the old stone and iron gravestones in the historic graveyards. She intended to go online as soon as they were at their destination to do some research.

They stopped for some gas before leaving the province, and Mattie took the apple Amber passed to him from the cooler. She had some crackers and sandwiches, too, but Mattie was content with just the apple.

“Roll your window down,” Amber said as they pulled across the border and neared the tourist bureau stop. Mattie did as she told him and he could hear the faint sound of the bagpipes being played over a sound system. She saw him smile. He knew exactly where he was.

“Welcome to Nova Scotia,” Amber said, reading the sign they were passing.

As they drove, Mattie could feel the sun gaining strength against the window. He rolled down the pane and put his elbow out. The air was cool, but the sun felt warm through it. Mattie listened to the tires rumbling against the pavement, and he could tell when the pavement was patched or had new surfaces down. He could tell the roads that needed work, from Amber trying to avoid the potholes and ruts. He listened hard when they passed a vehicle, trying to distinguish its size from the sound and the way the wind currant hit him as they went by. Soon he started asking Amber as they passed, and she’d let him know if he was right. She rolled her own window down and made the game tougher, asking him to guess the vehicles that passed on her side.

Her next game was making him guess the colour of the jube candies by their taste. He got the orange and the red but the green and the yellow threw him.

He would sometimes ask where they were, though he could tell when they were passing through a town just on the long highway where trees were the only things to pass. Amber stopped again for a coffee and a tea, and Mattie got out and stretched, walking around the car while Amber went inside.

“Got you a muffin,” she said, walking back. “It’s so nice out now, isn’t it?” She reached him, and bumped the paper bag with the muffin in it against his hand. He took it and then held out his hand for the cup, which he set on the hood of the car. He opened the bag and took out the muffin, tearing a piece off the top.

“What kind?” he asked before trying it.

“I think it’s carrot oatmeal or something. I got one for me, too.”

Mattie took a bite and raised his face upward, feeling the sun hitting his cheeks and forehead. “I’m glad it’s warm,” he said. “I think we picked the right time, anyway.”

“We did. I don’t have to drive through a wind tunnel or a crazy heavy rain. It’s great. We’re almost there, too. Probably forty-five minutes. Do you want to go to the inn first, or head to the city?”

“What is more practical? How far out is the inn and what is its direction? We don’t want to backtrack.”

“It’s kind of... south-east of the city? Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t mind doing some backtracking anyway. I mean, we’ll be driving a bit. We could go to Peggy’s Cove. Or to Digby, maybe? I’m open to ideas.”

Mattie, however, had none. Everything he thought of was worthless to him. He didn’t want to do any of the things his mind reminded him of: lighthouses and vistas and harbours; museums and galleries; places he’d been many years ago.

“Okay, then, don’t show your enthusiasm so much,” Amber said.

He turned toward her. “I’m sorry. Let’s just go into the city first. Maybe there’s something to do when we get there. You said you’d check online; let’s do that.”

Amber was quietly proud of her brother. He was trying so hard, when she knew he was feeling frustrated and disappointed.

Amber kept a running description as they drove into the city. She found a central place to park and they got out, pulling on their jackets. The breeze from the waterfront was still chilly, though the sun was holding strong. Mattie put his messenger bag over his head and waited as Amber dug around in a bag in the back seat and moved things around. She locked it up and walked around to her brother, tapping his hand. He automatically took her elbow and they started off.

The sidewalks were busy but not crowded. Amber did her best to give him details of the people they passed and the buildings around them. They stopped for a snack and thought some on where they would have their supper. Amber told him about interesting restaurants they passed, and then they walked out to the waterfront.

Mattie could hear the sound of the cables hitting the masts on the sailboats in front of them. There was the metal clank of cleats and the rocking swoosh of the waves hitting the gunnels of the boats or the posts of the docks. They walked out along the boardwalk and the bay enveloped Mattie’s senses. It felt mistier out there than it had when they’d climbed out of the car. The breeze ruffled the curls on the top of his head and he took in the scent of seaweed and fish and salt and something else he couldn’t place.

Amber told him about the boats in the harbour, and about some of the people that were walking around, enjoying the warm spring day. He tried to expand her words into pictures in his imagination as she talked. Sometimes it was easy to picture things and sometimes it was more difficult, but he wanted to have some kind of visual memory to go along with the sounds and smells of the day. He didn’t analyse why it was important. It just was.

“There’s a guy selling paintings on slate tiles,” Amber said.

“Are they any good?” Mattie asked.

“They’re kind of... folk art. But I like them. Actually, the more I look at them the more I like them.”

“Let’s go over and see them, then,” Mattie said to her.

“It’s okay, I can see them from here.”

“No you can’t. Show them to me.” He tugged on her arm.

Amber gave him a look, to see what his face told her. “Okay,” she said. “Come on.”

She guided him over to the artisan sitting up against the iron fencing, and gave him descriptions of the pieces she liked the most. She smiled at the artist, and complemented his work.

As they walked away, Mattie asked Amber if she wanted to buy one of the pieces.

“Well, it’s too heavy to carry around, and I don’t want to spend all my money on the first afternoon. He’ll probably be around over the next few days anyway, if I change my mind.”

They decided to eat at a place called The Grove, and Mattie had one of his favourites, fish and chips. Amber went with fried clams and chips, which she let Mattie try in exchange for a sampling of his fish. Mattie was too full to finish everything on his plate, and Amber complained about having to leave so much on hers, but they had enjoyed every bit they could stuff in.

They walked around a bit to work off their full stomach after paying the bill, and Mattie could hear music coming from several places they passed. Amber did a pretty good job at giving him descriptions, and she guided him expertly through people and obstacles. It wasn’t as painful as he’d been anticipating. He knew she had said they would figure out a way for him to enjoy it in other ways, and he hated, as usual, to admit that he already was enjoying what he was taking in.

They headed back to the car, commenting on the chill falling into the evening air. Amber looked on Mattie’s phone at the map to their destination, after passing it to him with some choice words of frustration at not knowing how to work the phone with its audible cues and different swiping techniques. She did it every time, and Mattie laughed. He set it up for her and gave it back.

“It’s not far,” she said. “I think I can find it okay.”

“I leave it in your hands,” he said, taking back the phone she’d pressed against his arm.

They reached the inn within the half-hour, and Amber went to check in with her reservations. She got a key to the third little cabin along the wooden verandah, and returned to the car, making sure they had everything they’d need. She guided Mattie, who had his suitcase clutched in one hand and her elbow in his other, and she stopped before the step, letting him find it with his foot.

Once inside, she lined their stuff up beside the door and took off her coat. Mattie took off his messenger bag and Amber took it, putting it with their luggage.

“Can you get my cane out?” he asked her. The room around him was an unknown territory, completely invisible to him.

“Yup. Do you want me to go over the layout with you?” she asked, retrieving the cane and placing it into his hand.

He unfolded it, tapping it on the ground. “If you don’t mind,” he said.

“No, of course not, Hun,” she said. She took him by the arm and carefully let him explore the wall on his left, telling him where the furniture was as they went, telling him when they reached the bathroom door. She gave him the layout and watched as he touched things and committed them to his memory. She could see how travelling would be tough on someone who couldn’t see, when memory made places easier to get around, and a new place every day or two was like learning and remembering a whole map.

“There’s a mirror here, and here is the television. It’s actually a new one.” She put his hand on the top of the television, a flat-screen which sat up on a tall bureau. She opened the top drawer. “Empty,” she commented, pushing it shut. “You can put your socks in there if you want.”

“Thanks,” Mattie said ungratefully. “What’s this?”

“That’s a weirdly shaped lamp.”

“Okay, I don’t need that. What’s this?” His hand moved onto a smooth box.

Amber opened the top and found the box full of packages of tea. “Oh, you’ll like this, Xav. Here, smell.”

Mattie couldn’t help but smell it as she waved the box near his nose. He breathed in, instantly knowing what it was she had. He smiled and lifted his hand to find the box, and touched the file of paper envelopes.

“I would say we’re going to come across an electric kettle here somewhere,” she said. “Okay, here is a chair and this is a little end table. Got it? Okay, here’s the wall and another chair. They look comfy, huh?” She watched Mattie reached down and feel the cushion and back of the chair. “There’s a floor lamp here, top’s wider than the bottom, so you might run your shoulder into it if you didn’t know.”

Mattie’s cane touched the base of the lamp and he reached up until he found the lampshade jutting out into the space in front of him. He went out and around it and reached a third chair and then the wall. There was a bedside table there, and two beds, which he followed around to the ends of both and then back to the wall past the second bed. Amber let him find the suitcases with his cane and then he knew he was back at the door again. He turned and gave a confident smile to Amber.

“Got it?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” he said.

“Wanna count it? I need to use the powder room.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mattie said, but as soon as he heard her close the door, he paced the room, taking in its length with his steps. It wasn’t a large room, but he took a little time to cover it well. Amber came back out as he was checking out the bedside table, and she went right to her luggage.

“Which bed do you want?” she asked.

“I’m not picky, you choose. I guess I should be next to the door.”

Amber looked at him. “Why do you say that? If you’re not picky.”

“No, I was just thinking about the door. I was being macho. I’m the man here, I’ll sleep by the door, I’ll protect you.” He was grinning, but Amber let him have this one.

“Okay, big guy. You can protect me.” She didn’t tell him it was better for him to be close to the exit in case of an emergency. She didn’t know if that crossed his mind. She picked up her suitcase and put it on the far bed.

Mattie sat on the other bed. “Is there a remote for the television?” he asked, folding his cane and putting it beside him.

“Yeah,” Amber said. She wasn’t about to go retrieve it for him. “It’s beside the television, on the other side there. The left.”

Mattie got up and crossed the space to the bureau. Reaching it, he ran his hands carefully over the surface to the left of the television. He found the remote and returned to the bed. The power button was usually on the top or the top right, he knew, so he pushed the topmost button and the high-pitched sound of the older television assured him he’d found it. The programme didn’t sound familiar to him. He examined the buttons on the remote with his fingers, trying to discern what was what.

Amber looked over at him. “Want me to have a look at it?” she asked. He didn’t answer for a minute, trying to find something familiar about the buttons. Then he reached over and held it across the space toward the other bed. She took it from him and looked it over. She slid over to his bed and gave it back, putting his finger on the triangle-shaped buttons half-way down. “This is the channel up and down. And this is the volume up and down.” She pulled his finger over to another set of triangle-shaped buttons along the other edge. “This is the guide button... wait, sorry. I forgot. Um, okay, here are the numbers. One, two, three, and then all the way down and zero at the middle bottom. Got that?”

He nodded. He felt the remote over again. “Thanks,” he said.

“No worries, Hun. I’m going to look up touristy stuff for us to do, okay? Go crazy.”

Mattie sat flipping through channels, and every so often he would ask Amber if she knew what programme it was. Amber gave him no clue if she was finding anything to report.

“You didn’t bring beer by any chance, did you?” Mattie asked.

“In the cooler. You want one?”

“Wouldn’t mind. Tell me where it is, I’ll get it.”

Amber directed him, and he took out two bottles. He knew the bottles were heavier, and he knew they were less easy to port, but Amber knew he managed bottles better than cans, and so she made it easier for him, and he was grateful to her.

“Well?” he asked, settling back after handing her the bottle. “Anything?”

“There’s music in the downtown, pubs and stuff. And there’s a petting zoo. And there’s a place we can taste wine. There are museums and stuff, but I guess you don’t want to go have me tell you what’s there, right?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“Well, there’s a zip-line, you know. And rock climbs. Or here, you could parasail off a cliff.”

He groaned. “Is that it? A petting zoo or hurling myself off a cliff?”

“You’d have a parachute.”

“Great.”

“We could hire a sailboat to take us out into the Bay.”

“To watch the whales?”

“No, to be in a sailboat. I think we have better whale watching spots at home.”

“There’s nothing for blind tourists, is there?” he asked, turning towards her.

“I don’t know, I’m not done yet.”

“I think if you type in tourist attractions for the blind in Halifax, and there isn’t something by the third page, we’re probably out of luck.” He took another swig of beer.

“There has to be something,” Amber said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mattie said, giving up on the idea. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Amber insisted. “I’m going to find something. I’m not even going to tell you. It’s just going to happen, and then I’m going to be all gloating about how you don’t believe me and I always am right in the end.”

Mattie groaned again, this time loudly, dramatically rolling his head back.

She took a swig of her own beer. “You know it’s true,” she said, going back to Mattie’s phone, which he had made accessible to her sighted needs. Mattie raised the remote control and changed the channel.

Amber led Mattie around a sign post. She had to admit that the city was not really geared toward people with vision impairments. The curbs didn’t line up with the crosswalks, the crosswalk signals didn’t make a sound, and there were often posts or obstructions in the way of an otherwise clear path. She’d called the museums to see if there was any kind of tactile display, but came up with nothing. She decided that she would plan the next road trip around finding something for Mattie to do. And the plan would also include not telling him that he was going to be her focus.

They’d had breakfast at a little cafe, skipping the chain stores that were the same as they were at home. Mattie liked walking around the downtown, so Amber had parked the car and they did a prowl of the shops and stalls of downtown Halifax. Amber didn’t want to go in to the malls; they were all the same as at home. She wanted to find something different. She wanted Mattie to find something different. Something good. She walked closer to one of the parks.

“It’s getting warm,” she said, stopping to let a kid run ahead of them. “It almost feels like June.”

“Well, it’s almost June, so...” He turned his head. “Is that a skateboard?”

“Where? Oh, yeah, one kid on a push scooter and one kid on a skateboard, over to the left. Man, kids can really work those things. I’m surprised that Peter hasn’t made you try that.”

Mattie chuckled.

“Holy shit,” Amber said.

“What?” Mattie stopped automatically. Always stop in your tracks in any kind of warning.

He was surprised to hear the grin in Amber’s words. “I think I found our perfect adventure.”

“Uh oh. What?”

“There’s a tandem bike... two people on a tandem bike.”

“Yeah? What are you gonna do, chase them down and steal it from them?”

“No, they rent them. Just a sec, there’s a bench ahead, we can stop and I’ll see if I can find a number. We can go for a spin and find somewhere to have lunch.”

“Are you sure we have the stamina to go for a spin?”

“I’m willing to try if you are.”

“Why couldn’t it have been go-carts?” Mattie asked her.

“Would you go on a go-cart?” Amber asked back.

“Is there a go-cart?”

“No, I don’t see any places to do that.”

“Then yes, of course I would.”

He heard the exasperated sound from his sister as she took his arm through her own and walked with him to the bench.

It didn’t take her long, and before Mattie knew it, they were at a bike rental kiosk a block away. Amber had her credit card out, and was in the process of renting the bike. They only had three in service, and it was lucky they’d come when they had; apparently the bikes rented quickly.

“Okay,” Amber said, placing her brother’s hand on the back seat of the bike. “Check it out.”

“So I’ll sit on the front?” Mattie said in mock seriousness.

“Over my dead body,” Amber replied. She watched Mattie checking the bike out with his hands. “Those are your handlebars.”

“What? I thought I was supposed to hold around your waist.”

“It’s not a motorcycle, Xav.”

“Does this mean I get to steer?”

“No, it’s like those Fisher Price steering wheels for kids in cars.”

Mattie gave her the look, and folded his cane. “What do I do with this?” he asked as he took off his messenger bag, putting the cane inside.

“We have a basket,” Amber said.

“Of course we do,” Mattie replied.

She helped him with his helmet before giving him guidance to mount the bike, keeping his balance for him as he felt the bike and tried to climb on at the same time. He held it steady for her to climb on, and then he had to figure out where the pedals were and how to synchronise a start when he couldn’t see what she was doing.

“Okay, Xav, we’re on our left foot. Do you have the pedal? Okay, good. So on the count of three, we push off with our left and push the pedal down on our right. You ready?”

“I guess so.”

“We can do this, no problem.”

She counted and they pushed off, wobbling, trying to find the balance. Mattie felt the awkward imbalance and tried to compensate, throwing the bike even more off. Amber slowed down and tried to coach him to relax and just find his middle and it would balance up on its own. He pedalled, feeling the strong desire to see where he was going. He knew Amber would steer them just fine but it didn’t dim the urge to look ahead. Security in seeing. He took a breath, willing his body to balance itself, and he closed his eyes, remembering the advice Amber gave him when he tried skating the first time blind. He’d used the advice many times since then, and somehow, it took the panic away of trying to see, forcing his brain to stop looking and start feeling.

It worked this time, too. Head down, Mattie found his centre of gravity matching that of Amber’s, and the bike glided smoothly along the bike path. She headed toward the park, keeping away from the busier parts of the city. She didn’t want to give Mattie too much soundscape to overwhelm his sense of direction and surroundings. She reminded herself to tell when she was going to turn or curve even a little, so he would adjust his balance to follow. Pretty soon, they had a pretty good system going, and Amber could feel her brother’s confidence gaining strength along with his peddling. She let him know they were nearly to the park, and she found a bike trail running alongside.

Head down, Mattie peddled. He was starting to enjoy the freedom of the bike. It wasn’t just sitting passively in a car, it was so much more. He could feel the different textures under the tires, and the air rushing around his shoulders as they coasted down a slope. He could hear things around him, unlike being in a car, and he could smell the new grass, the bay air, the city traffic, the sprouting green leaves, and either pizza or samosas, all at once.

He had to let himself trust Amber. He knew he was in no danger, but the motion and speed he could feel zooming past him in the dark made him feel anxious. And once he realised the anxiety was creeping back in, it grew. He was torn between joy and fear. He had to keep telling himself Amber was steering, she was safe, she wasn’t going to put them into a ditch or worse, into traffic. She was safe. She was safe.

“Amber?”

“Yeah, Hun?”

“Can we... can you...?”

“What?”

“Just stop for a minute,” he said, hearing the parts of the bike that rattled louder than anything else around him. He tried to keep his breath slow.

Amber slowed down, letting him know she was going to lean to the left and to put his left foot down to prop them up. She turned around, and saw his face was white and there were beads of perspiration along his eyebrows.

“Xav? Okay? What’s up, Hun?”

Mattie undid the chin strap of his helmet and pulled it off. The air felt bigger again.

“I’m okay,” he said, nodding, shaking the panic off. “I’m okay.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I just... it was too fast. I didn’t know where we were. I just imagined... I don’t know. My mind just sort of seized up there.” He took a deep breath. “Gahd, I hate when that happens. It feels like the dark is squeezing all around me, pressing the air out of my lungs.”

Amber frowned. “I’m sorry, Xav. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry. Should we stop? We can walk it back.”

He shook his head determinedly. “No, I can do this. We can do it. People do this. I’ll be okay.”

“We can take a minute,” Amber said. “Want me to tell you everything around us for a sec?”

He nodded, letting her talk. Her descriptions filled in the empty, pressing air around him and took the focus away from himself. Everything went back into its place, and Mattie felt the unrecognised threat recede. He turned his head, listening. He wanted to try again. This time, he would concentrate on the space he occupied, keeping focus on his muscles, the peddles, the way the bike leaned and dipped. He would let Amber do the navigation and he wouldn’t think about that at all. He was on a track, the bike was safe in its direction.

He put the helmet back on and did the strap up under his chin.

“You okay now?” Amber asked.

He nodded. “Let’s go again.”

“Is there anything you want me to do differently?”

“Can you maybe just call out things we pass that make a noise I might not recognise? Or that might seem too close or something? I think I’m panicking at the sounds.”

They started off again, slowly catching their balance and stride. Amber told Mattie they were passing two oncoming bikes. She told him there was a big truck backing up on the street across the tree-line of the park, if he heard the beeping and wondered how close it was. Every bit of information she gave him filed nicely into his mind’s eye and kept the sounds organised and in their places. He felt the lean of the bike, and the speed and rhythm of Amber’s legs pushing the pedals, and matched them.

Once again, he felt a sense of happiness growing at the freedom he was enjoying. He kept his focus on how his body inhabited the space he was in, forgetting about whether his eyes were open or closed. He thoughts were away from seeing; he was completely immersed in sound and balance and feeling.

Amber let him know when they were going to stop. She stuck to bracing up on the left foot, and he followed all of her instructions exactly as she gave them. He’d learned that his safety and possibly his survival rested on how quickly he followed her command. Some other voices, he was afraid to obey, and afraid to ignore, but Amber’s he trusted completely.

“How you doin’ back there, Xav?” she asked, turning to look at him. This time, she was pleased to see no trace of the panic that had been on his face earlier. He looked happy, and maybe a little proud of himself.

“Doin’ okay,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, you are,” she said, smiling back at him.

They ate lunch at a place that sold sandwiches and soups. Mattie had a grilled cheese and pickles. Amber had a sun-dried tomato and swiss sandwich. They ate outside on a little patio, and Amber told Mattie about the people and the places around them. When they’d finished, taking their time to enjoy the moments, they got back onto the bike and made their way back towards where they’d rented it. Again, Amber gave Mattie placement to the sounds coming at him, and happily, he peddled along strongly, relishing the freedom the effort gave him.

He reluctantly relinquished the bike and took the messenger bag Amber passed into his hands. He lifted the strap over his head and took out his cane. When Amber returned, bumping her hand against his, he took her elbow.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

She patted the hand on her elbow. “It was fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime. It’s much less ridiculous than you and Peter riding separate bikes.”

Mattie grinned. It had been ridiculous. He’d been proving himself at the time, mostly to himself. And he’d do it again. He couldn’t believe the things he had tried since he’d lost his sight. He couldn’t imagine having stopped his life and being sat on the sidelines, waiting for people to remember to visit. It had been so hard to keep from going there. It had been terrifying and way beyond his patience and capability, and he’d done it anyway.

Maya clutched the slender champagne glass in her right hand and took a tentative sip as she glanced around the expansive room dotted with industry and academics alike. She let out a sigh through her nose and glanced around again, feeling wholly overwhelmed in this sea of experts and very much feeling like an imposter when a gentle hand rested on the middle of her back. 

She glanced up and smiled at the tall, solid figure next to her. 

“Ready to wow them?” he said conspiratorially. Maya gave her best smile and nodded. 

“Ready.” He guided her through the throng of people toward a group of important looking city suits. Maya braced herself, pasting that brilliant smile on her face and smoothed out the skirt of her short white dress that flared out around her coppery warm thighs. 

“Arden!” One of the suits pronounced as they approached. “Good to see you!”

“Good to see you,” Arden nodded, his older handsome features pulled into a smile. He glanced down at Maya reassuringly and she had to catch her breath for a moment. That warm reassuring hand shifted a little on her back: “There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

The three suits now laser focused in on Maya and she steeled herself. Shoulders back, head high, warm smile. Look approachable, but not too stiff. Confident, but not too overly full of yourself. That hand disappeared from the middle of her back as Arden now said: 

“This is my second year student, Maya Sunriviere,” he always emphasized her last name with some French twist. It made Maya shift a bit uncomfortably, like she was some sort of fraud. “Maya specializes in sustainable biomechanics that will help improve the green building practices in more rural and indigenous areas. It’s groundbreaking stuff what Collins is teaching these kids and Maya is going to help put it on the map,” Arden shot her a warm look which Maya returned before she turned her attention back to the suits. 

One raised his scotch glass somewhat before he said, “Great stuff.” He was less than impressed but polite nonetheless. Maya gave him her most charming smile and nodded. As she opened her mouth though to pitch, he interrupted her, “Not much of that needed on this coast though, is there? Seems like that’s mostly western go-green propaganda,” he turned to his other suits who chuckled a bit alongside him. Maya pursed her lips, and shifted on her nude heel. 

“Yeah, remember when Remy pitched the green garden effect to Trump tower people? Total disaster,” the other suit scoffed. Maya glanced with alarmed eyes at Arden. He was watching the three men before him with an unreadable look on his face. 

“Actually, I—” Maya tried to butt in, but there was a guffaw from the third suit as he said: 

“They ran the numbers on that thing, did I tell you? Wouldn’t have even scratched the surface of what they’d need to get those green energy credits to offset the property tax. Total waste of concept development and manpower, in my opinion.” 

Arden glanced at Maya, his face urgent as he nodded toward the group of men who were devolving further into laughter and swapping stories of other failed projects poised as ingenious to their development firms. Maya swallowed hard, suddenly feeling ridiculous in her white poofy sleeved Givenchy baby-doll dress. She should have worn pants, and done a sharp cat eye to look formidable. Instead she felt kind of like a chic cupcake, at least that’s what the lady in the store said the other day. 

“Oh, Arden, I forgot to ask the other day, did you get those blueprints greenlit from legal?” The original suit who had interrupted her swiftly changed the subject and Maya felt boxed out. 

She wrapped her other hand around her champagne glass and grimaced, taking a sip as she waited for Ardent to speak. He glanced down at her one last time as if trying to give her one last opening before carrying on with the suits. 

Twenty minutes later, Maya leaned against the bar and caught the eye of the young blonde bartender. 

“Whiskey, neat, splash of water,” Maya grumbled. 

“Yeesh,” Noah said, leaning against the bartop and taking a swig of his Modelo. “That looked like it went…” 

“I fucking blew it,” Maya groaned as the bartender slipped the short glass a whiskey across to her with a sympathetic smile. Maya gave her an apologetic grin and spun to look out across the room. “I feel like a fucking idiot.” 

“Nah,” Noah said, drawing out the sound of his dissent. “It’s probably fine. Professor Arden will smooth things over. You’ll get another shot.” 

“I look like an idiot, I feel like an idiot,” Maya knocked back more whiskey than she meant to and grimaced. “Egh.” 

“Jesus, slow down cowgirl,” Noah took another sip and laughed at her a little. Maya couldn’t help the smile that quirked on her lip in response. “You’ll get another shot. Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. Maya didn’t answer. 

“Did you get to talk to those guys from Horton and Sons?” Maya asked. Noah just nodded, scanning his eyes across the crowd of people. “And?” Maya prompted. 

“I’m a shoe-in. Obviously,” he threw his head back, his hair swishing back in an unapologetically endearing way and Maya rolled her eyes as she smiled over her whiskey glass. 

“Obviously,” she echoed. She looked back to the crowd, but could still feel Noah’s eyes on her. He did that sometimes—just watched her like he was trying to figure her out or something. Or maybe he just thought she was hot. Whatever it was, Maya couldn’t say that it bothered her all too much. It had been awhile since she’d hung out with someone who didn’t seem to think they knew everything about her. 

“Let’s get out of here. You’re done, right?” Noah offered, setting his half finished beer down. “We can go swing by and pick up Beez and head to Carter’s or that one bar you like where we had pasta at like 2 a.m.” Maya was watching Arden laugh and talk to the suits. She’d let him down, she knew that, and she wasn’t used to failing so publicly. 

“No, I should probably stay in case Arden wants me to glad hand, right?” Maya asked uncertainly. This was her first industry event outside of the conference she went to in November. But she had volunteered and spent most of the time running drinks and getting people checked in to the event, rather than making connections. 

“Absolutely not,” Noah said. This wasn’t Noah’s first industry event by any means. He was a year ahead of Maya, a third year, and he’d been to dozens of these things at this point and secured internships over the past two years in which to get his foot in the door. “This thing is going to be over in like twenty minutes tops. These guys roll the party into strip clubs and bars on the west end to really get hammered. The gladhanding is basically done. Unless…” Noah paused and Maya shot him a look. 

“Unless what?” she raised an eyebrow at him and downed the rest of her whiskey, reveling in the burn. 

“Unless you’re…you know…getting picked up,” Noah said with an eye roll. Maya let out a small laugh and set her glass down on the bartop before digging into pockets of her dress for her phone. 

“Obviously,” Maya mocked. She typed a quick message and saw the three dots pop up quickly in response. “Alright, let’s go,” Maya said, clearing some notifications she was putting off and smiling up at Noah. 

“Yesss!” he exclaimed, throwing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her toward the elevator that would lead them down to the lobby. Maya glanced at Arden as she went and he shot her a reassuring smile. She tried to swallow the thick lump in her throat. 

When they exited the lavish art building and hurried down the stone steps, they were greeted with sleek black Aston Martin. The blacked out passenger window rolled down and jazz music poured from the interior. 

Maya ducked down and gave a hearty wave. Naoh was positively buzzing with excitement behind her. 

“Hey! Thanks for coming to grab us,” Maya said. 

“Get in, we can probably make it to Chinatown in fifteen minutes if we hurry,” Rosalie ran a hand through her shimmering golden hair and turned down the music in the car. “You’re bringing the serf?” Maya let out a laugh and tugged open the front door. Noah piled into the back. 

“He’s not a—,” Maya started. 

“I will have you know that my family runs a moderately profitable print shop back in Columbus. We’re upper middle class at the very least…in Ohio.” Noah scoffed, not taken aback by Rosalie’s ribbing. Rose just rolled her eyes and waited for Maya to buckle her seatbelt. 

“Where’s Emmett?” Maya asked. 

“He went to see his friends in Queens,” Rosalie responded before sliding into the roadway and speeding down toward their intended destination. 

“Ah,” Maya replied. Seeing friends in Queens meant hunting. 

Maya’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she fished it out before looking at the notification on the screen. She quickly swiped over the message to clear it from her home screen. Rosalie glanced over, her eyes never really leaving the road. Maya shot her a look, one that begged her not to say anything. Not in front of Noah. 

Rose got the message loud and clear from Maya’s pained eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. In her pocket, her phone continued to buzz quietly as it did most nights. 

-------------

Maya woke up the next morning to the tinny winter light filtering through her dorm room window. The soft whooshing sounds of the city just beyond the campus boundaries created a gentle pulse that matched Maya’s heartbeat. This was the moment she always dreaded—her eyes traveling across the lines of her frost covered window, already melting in the morning light and residual heat trapped by the city, as her consciousness swelled and crashed over her like a wave. 

Just as the slightest edge of sleep wore off, the pain would start. A wince, a hollowing in her stomach, a brief wave of nausea, and Maya was up. She sat up in bed, her arm wrapped low around her stomach as the pain pushed through her fast and deep, swelling and pushing her, begging her to go. But Maya would stay as still as she could, taking hard fast breaths through her mouth and squeezing her eyes tight as she waited for the first ebb of pain to pull away. 

Sometimes, the pain only lasted for a few minutes, and sometimes more. But at this point, after nearly six months of broken contact from her imprint, Maya knew how to push through the pain. When she first arrived, she knew that fissure that had burst wide open like a cracked damn would spread the pain around her and pull her back toward the reservation. It was almost unbearable at first—worse even than when she and Paul had split the first time. The distance must have made it worse to begin with, she hypothesized. 

For the first two weeks of the fall semester, Maya had barely been able to breathe, to speak even as the pain refused to leave her. Every step she took was excruciating and her joints felt rusted, her bones splintered, and her head felt like it would split in two. She felt the constant tug, like a rope edge secured to her belly button, rip at her belly as the imprint pleaded with her to return. Her whole body would be fire during the day, and then ice frozen over at night. 

It had taken her months to learn how to manage the pain, learn how to release it, and how to temper it into submission. But that didn’t stop it from sneaking up on her every now and then when she wasn’t expecting it. Maya had learned the ins and outs of her pain, knew the shape of it, and now treated it as an old friend that might never leave her. And with that knowledge, she learned how to contain it. It was only in the mornings now, when the foggy melt of sleep made her too vulnerable did the imprint strike at her like a snake. 

Maya held tightly to her abdomen, her eyes flickering up toward the sunlight as she took deeper, more calming breaths. With her eyes closed, she relived the last few moments she had seen Paul—his pleading gaze, her furious and tear stricken face, and the explosion of fur and wood as he took off into the forest. The pain began to ebb now as the echoing heavy footfalls of Paul’s wolf form faded into the memory. 

She opened her eyes and released the arm around her abdomen tentatively, swallowing and taking a shuddering breath before her gaze swept over to her nightstand. Her phone lit up with another text, adding to the already sky-high number of texts, missed calls, and voicemails that filled her inbox. Maya rubbed her eyes and held her head in her hands for just a moment before throwing the covers off of her, grabbing her toiletry kit, and heading toward the communal bathroom. 

She was once again thankful for the single dorm room the Cullens had arranged for her after she had to come to them for help that fateful night. They had insisted, even when Maya had stated that her scholarship didn’t cover such a lavish expense and only conceded when they urged her that it would be best for them as well as her when ensuring her safety and their privacy. 

There had been a lot Maya had agreed to that night. The warmth of the shower water ran over her and Maya’s eyes glazed over, remembering that evening as if it was only yesterday. 

“I need your help.” Maya had said just loud enough for herself to hear. She stood at the bottom of the concrete stairs and her eyes made out the shapes of Carlisle and Rosalie at the top. Carlisle held his mouth in a tight line as Rose crossed her arms, head tilted and looking over Maya with genuine interest. 

Maya’s heart hammered in her chest. What was she doing here? Walking into the lion’s den like this with no protection, no backup, and no wolfpack was probably insane. But she’d felt like she’d had no other choice. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go and now looking up at the two terrifyingly still creatures, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in her blind panic. 

Carlisle suddenly gave her a soft nod, his stone body easily breaking into graceful, human-like motion as he extended his hand and beckoned her up the steps with a gentle smile. Maya let out a loud breath and shot Rosalie one glance before she jogged up the stairs and over the threshold of the house. 

Esme had given her tea and a warm, mothering smile that set Maya at ease as she sat atop the bar chair in the kitchen. Edward and Bella stood off by the sink leaning against the counter as Edward listened intently to Maya’s thoughts. Her mind couldn’t help but replay every second of the evening over and over, awash with fresh panic each time. 

“They’re not going to let me leave,” Maya said gently, her eyes flickering up to Edward and then over to Carlisle. Emmett stood by the fireplace in the adjoining living room and Rosalie was perched on the counter top. Carlisle pursed his lips again and looked over to Bella. She gave a gentle shake of her head and Carlisle nodded. “Please, I just want to…” Maya couldn’t finish her sentence as her throat closed up and she hiccuped slightly with too much emotion. 

Carlisle finally let his gaze rest on Edward, “What will they do?” Maya’s eyes shot up, wide and terrified as the sound of someone else speaking for the first time reached her ears. They had been nearly silent this entire time and she had no idea what they would do. Would they just hand her back over? Was she risking war by being here? 

Bella’s eyes watched Maya carefully, but they were gentle, understanding, as if she recognized some of the pain Maya was feeling in this moment. Edward took a moment to consider, as if listening beyond his means and then shrugged. 

“We won’t know for sure unless we ask. There’s nothing specifically in the treaty about this kind of interference. Just that we’re not supposed to harm or hunt the tribe. This doesn’t fall into the category from where I’m standing, but the pack might see it differently.” Edward spoke purposefully, as if mulling over the options in his mind as he was speaking and not coming to any one clear conclusion. Carlisle’s eyes skated over Maya again and then toward Bella. 

“Could you reach out to him? To see if we can come to some sort of arrangement?” Carlisle asked. Bella’s eyes hadn’t left Maya since she’d shown up. She glanced at Carlisle, meeting his eyes and gave a nod. Maya watched as Bella left the kitchen, toward the front door, and hear the soft clack as she exited the home. 

Maya looked down at her hands and fought back the fresh well of tears that threatened to overtake her. When she looked up, Rosalie’s gaze was still boring through her—curious, imploring, and oddly comforting. 

A short while later, Esme took her to a guest room to get some sleep, but Maya was surely not going to do any of that. She checked her phone on and off throughout the evening, but it didn’t seem like anyone had sounded the alarm yet. Maybe they thought she and Paul had just had another blow out argument, their tempers getting the best of them yet again. Maya internally groaned. She so did not want to be that couple. 

It was entirely too late, or rather too early when Maya heard the soft sound of the door opening as she sat with her head in her hands at the end of the bed where Esme had left her earlier that night. Maya raised her head, eyes alarmed, to see Bella standing there with a soft smile. 

“Come with me,” she said gently, gesturing over her shoulder. Maya couldn’t help the involuntary shiver she gave as she passed her. When they descended the stairs together and rounded into the living room, Maya’s breath hitched in her throat and her steps stuttered as her gaze fell upon the massive form of Jacob Black standing in the center of the open living room. The Cullens gathered around him in various states of relaxation, some sitting on the couch, some with their hands slipped into their pockets and leaning close to the fire. 

Maya swallowed hard. Jacob’s arms were crossed over his chest and he didn’t look too happy. Maya clenched her hands into fists at her sides, bracing for a fight. Her eyes darted to Carlisle, and then Bella as if silently asking for an escape or at the very least, an explanation. But none came. Jacob’s mouth sat in a firm line as he looked at her, his gaze never wavering as the firelight flickered shadows over his body. 

What was she supposed to say? Jacob kept just staring at her, as if he was trying to figure something out. It made Maya realize quite suddenly she was the least supernatural being in this room and it made her feel…odd. He wasn’t moving, no one else in the room was breathing, but Maya felt like the air was thinning and she was going to crack under the weight of her own panic. Her eyes flickered to Rosalie who straightened from her sitting position on the couch and came to stand next to Carlisle like she had at the top of the stairs. She turned toward Maya and gave her a small nod. Maya opened her mouth as if to speak and then immediately closed it. 

And Jacob just stood there, radiating more heat than the fireplace. Maya couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad or just plain tired. He’d always said he’d never wanted to be alpha, but did this fall into his responsibilities? A grown ass runaway just trying to get off this rez so she can go back to school? Probably not. But still, Maya was his problem implicitly as an imprint and for that she was truly sorry. 

“Jake, I–” Maya choked on her words, and closed her eyes tight for a second. 

“Is this what you want?” he said suddenly. Maya’s eyes snapped open, unsure if he had even spoken or if she had hallucinated it in her sleep deprived state. She stared at him for too long and so he said again, “Is this what you want, Maya?” 

She swallowed hard. Her throat on fire before she nodded and said hoarsely, “Yes.” 

Jacob let out a loud sigh through his nose and let his arms drop as he turned to Carlisle. “There is still a threat.” Carlisle nodded solemnly. 

“We understand. Rose and Emmett have already agreed to escort Maya and stay with her in New York while she attends school.We have a home there, but Maya can obviously stay on campus if she wants.” Jake chuckled. 

“Of course you have a home out there,” he rubbed his eyes and shrugged. “Fine. If you’re willing to do this, I can’t really stop her.” Maya took a step toward Jake, not realizing the tears that had gathered and already poured down her cheeks in her earnest. 

“You’re letting me leave?” Maya said breathlessly. It seemed like such an idiotic question but only a few hours ago, she thought otherwise. Jacob looked at her now, his gaze somewhat surprised before it turned into deep sadness. A look of understanding came over his face as if he knew what it was like to feel trapped in a no-win situation. 

“You should leave today,” he said sternly to Maya before turning to Carlisle, “The sooner the better.” 

“Understood,” Carlisle replied softly with a sympathetic smile. 

Maya gathered her backpack and leaned down to tie up her chunky black boots before wrapping a scarf loosely around her neck. Her phone buzzed again but by now, Maya mostly ignored the notifications. They came in frequently, from everyone. 

Except Keye. She had only texted once after Maya left and knew her well enough to know that there wouldn’t be a point in chasing her. All she had said was: “I love you. Good on you for sticking to what you want. You probably should steer clear of here for awhile. Text if you need.”

Maya read that text often. Just for a little reassurance that what she was doing was the right thing. She glanced at her phone now and saw that the most recent message was from Rose. She was on her way to her dorm to walk with Maya to class. Rose had registered at Columbia as a Sophomore to study mechanic engineering as her “cover”, but Maya knew she just genuinely enjoyed doing something with her time. Plus, Rosalie’s alluring nature only helped Maya in her department and in making connections. She tried not to rely too much on that though. 

Maya was determined to do this her way and succeed on her own, like she always had. Still, it came in handy sometimes. 

Ten minutes later, they were walking side by side across the quad toward Maya’s early morning lecture. 

“It’s not that bad,” Rose said straightening her dark maroon leather gloves. . 

“It’s bad,” Maya said, “You weren’t there Rose, I really did blow it. I don’t think Professor Arden is going to introduce me like that again after that monumental flub.” 

“Oh please,” Rose scoffed, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. The cloud cover this morning was pleasant enough that she could walk around freely without her umbrella she usually carried with her, and the chill of late February in New York meant showing as minimal skin as possible also worked in her favor. “Arden is obsessed with you,” she said not too kindly. 

“Ew, no he’s not,” Maya laughed. 

“I’ve seen guys like him before Maya, he’s a borderline creep. If you give him another inch, he’ll run the whole mile with it,” Rosalie said matter of factly. 

“You’re crazy. And also, he’s my fucking professor. I think I would have picked up on the gross-power-dynamic vibes. You’ve met Paul, right?” Maya quipped. Rose gave a noncommittal sound as her eyes scanned across the quad. Maya’s phone buzzed again. 

“You know you can put that on silent, right?” Rose responded as Maya pulled her phone out of her pocket. 

“It’s Beez, and we’re running this student seminar together next week so I most definitely cannot turn it on silent,” Maya let out a slow breath as she began to type, the air fogging up around them as they walked briskly. 

“Yeah and only 186 unread texts, 217 missed calls, and 73 voicemails,” Rose shot back, “Sure.  I’m sure the buzzing is not getting to you either.” Maya rolled her eyes and looked over at Rose who gave her a small smile.

“Who’s obsessed with who now?” Maya quipped, to which Rose let out that bright, twinkling laugh that lit up her whole face. 

Maya shoved her phone back into her pocket. Ever since she skipped town, she hadn’t answered anyone, save for Jeremy that first night and her parents. 

“They’ll all be there when the semester is over,” Maya said, her teeth chattering from the cold as she yanked open the door to her class building. 

“Right,” Rose replied, looking the picture of perfection, not a blonde hair out of place. Despite the prodding, Maya was so grateful to both her and Emmett for getting her back to Columbia when they did that she couldn’t really begrudge her for pointing out the fact that Maya was most definitely avoiding everything back home. 

Back home. 

Maya hadn’t been home in over six months. Half a year. She hadn’t been home for fall break and her parents opted to visit her out in New York for Christmas. It was probably for the best considering that the rez was a minefield of uncertainty. She hadn’t spoken to anyone, not a text, or a call, since the day she left. And still, her inbox swelled with texts, photos, voicemails, voice messages, and everything in between. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to go through them just yet. Maya would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bit guilty for leaving the way she did. But she thought she had no other choice. Still, it didn’t stop a fresh pang of guilt from washing over her anytime her phone vibrated. 

Maya slumped into her seat in the lecture hall after waving goodbye to Rosalie who drew a few stares per usual. The hallways of the engineering building were dotted with the occasional paper heart or pink and white streamers of the looming holiday. Maya exhaled roughly and was only somewhat jolted out of her reverie when Beez slapped her books down on the table in front  of her breathless. 

“Hey! Did you get my text?” she said before unwrapping her scarf and shedding her coat. 

“Uh, yeah!” Maya said quickly, straightening and turning her attention to the front of the lecture hall where her professor was starting his slides. 

------------

The Valentine’s decorations in the mess hall had seemingly exploded everywhere the closer they got to February 14. Each table was covered in tiny pink confetti hearts and streamers with glittering hearts poured from every ceiling and stairwell. Maya didn’t remember it being as big of deal last year, but now the overwhelming pressure of the holiday was making her nauseous. 

That hollowness in Maya’s stomach was growing again and she grimaced down at her salad. Her arm automatically curved around her abdomen lightly underneath the table. 

“I never really understood Valentine’s day,” Beez said suddenly between mouthfuls of chicken noodle soup, “I mean, I get it but also like, if you love someone, isn’t that like an everyday thing? Can’t today just be like a proclamation day for people who haven’t expressed loved to their loved one yet? And for everyone else, it can be business as usual?” 

Rose looked up from painting her nails and quirked a beautifully arched eyebrow at Beez. “I think it’s nice,” she said easily as she blew on her cherry red nails. Maya’s eyes still stayed zoned in on her salad, focusing on breathing in and out. 

“Yeah, it’s nice!” Beez agreed, “But it also doesn’t make sense.” 

“What’s not to get about love?” Rose said without looking up from her nails this time in mock concentration. 

“Everything,” Beez said after a beat, “It’s the most nonsensical, confusing, logic-defying emotion in our existence. Everything about love doesn’t make sense,” Beez proclaimed as she shuffled through her notecards. Noah sank down in a seat next to her and started digging into his chicken salad sandwich. “People do the weirdest shit when they’re in love.”

“It can be about other kinds of love, not just the romantic kind,” he said between mouthfuls. He always had to rush off to his city planning course after lunch which was clear across campus, but he made it a point to have lunch with them every Tuesday and Thursday. 

“I guess,” Beez said, making a revision to her notecard. Maya sucked in a too sharp breath and Noah looked up from his tray. 

“My?” he asked, concerned. Rose glanced at Maya and leaned across the table to try and distract them. 

“Did you guys get an invitation to that art show in May?” Rose asked. Beez looked up, her brow creasing in confusion. Noah glanced at Rose as if compelled to and then quickly back to Maya. Maya straightened and pretended to pick at her salad, shooting Noah a quick smile. 

“No? What art show? God damnit! They think chem kids don’t give a fuck about this stuff and they never give us the good stuff,” Beez complained. Maya was thankful for the distraction, even if Noah still watched her from across the table worriedly as Rosalie promised to text Beez the details. 

Maya had never been particularly invested in Valentine’s day as a holiday. Not even before the imprint. But now, it felt like a monument to her current relationship’s disarray. Maybe it felt worse this year not only because of being on the outs with Paul but also because…the last time he had tried to text her was back in January. 

The text had been short, as they had gradually become in Maya’s continued silence. It had come in the second week of January, the night of the bonfire nearly two years ago. The night of the imprint. 

The text had simply read: Happy anniversary. 

Maya had struggled to breathe for a few hours after that and ultimately had turned off her phone and overslept the next day, missing her first two classes. 

After that, there was nothing. He hadn’t reached out in almost a month. And Maya was beginning to wonder if this was it. If he was giving up. She couldn’t blame him considering how she had left and how she had iced him out after. She was still amazed by the fact that he had never traveled out to New York to confront her or try to bring her back. But maybe Rose and Emmett had been enough of a deterrent to ensure that she wouldn’t go easily. That and she’d never forgive him. Still, something in Maya wouldn't let her forgive him just yet for trying to keep her on the rez in the first place and she held onto that feeling, that distance to help her get through the semester. 

Now as the day loomed closer, she just felt alone. She was surrounded by people—people who cared about her. And yet, Maya felt that familiar ache that pulsed with the realization that she would never truly be whole without Paul. She knew that. But she knew what she had to do first—to make this all worth it, if that feeling didn’t drive her crazy first. It was maddening, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch, a tug that just wouldn’t let up. It drove out any sense of reason and sent her brain buzzing with static. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t breathe. 

Maya pushed away from the table abruptly and stood, scooping up her bag. “I just forgot that I needed to talk to Professor Arden about my…” she didn’t finish as she hurried away and out toward the quad. No one followed her, for which she was thankful. 

Out in the cold, February air, Maya took some deep gulping breaths to calm herself and try to quell the growing pain in her stomach. Absently, her feet made their way toward the engineering building as tears glittered in her eyes. 

As if on autopilot in her grief, Maya was suddenly in front of Professor Arden’s door. She swallowed thickly, and wiped the tears off of her stained cheeks. She hadn’t actually meant to come and see Professor Arden, she had just been so lost in thought trying to escape the pain welling up in her that her feet carried her here as if on instinct. Maya spent a lot of time here going over her papers, brainstorming ideas for her upcoming thesis that was still a ways off, talking about grad programs and the merits of teaching versus finding something industry. Professor Arden was a great sounding board and had incredible connections. 

Hoping for a distraction, Maya dug in her bag for her latest paper—an actual excuse to be here. But she had nothing on her. 

With a sigh she cleared the tears away once more and just as she turned to leave, the door to his office wrenched open. Maya startled, and stumbled back a little wide eyed. 

“Maya!” Professor Arden exclaimed, somewhat surprised to see her standing there, somewhat disheveled by the cold wind blowing around campus.

“Professor Arden,” Maya returned, trying to straighten herself up and tame her hair that must have been a wild mess from booking it across the quad. “I, uh—” she closed her eyes somewhat embarrassed and opened them to see him watching her with a soft, comforting look on his face. “I meant to bring you something to look over, but I uh—” she thumbed over her shoulder back toward the stairwell, “I forgot, so, I’m just gonna—” she started to back away. 

“That’s alright, I had actually received an email from Dr. Bronnard about an aerospace internship position this summer in Ohio. Do you want to come take a look? I think it might be a good fit,” he said warmly. Maya pursed her lips and then nodded, her enthusiasm quickly returning as she brushed by him and into his office. 

Professor Arden’s office was a warm oasis from the cold campus outside. He had a wall lined with bookcases and crammed with books and project proposals and published articles from magazines and journals. He was a leading voice in modern engineering for how young he was in his career. Maya guessed he couldn’t be older than his late thirties or early forties. His office culminated around a large black wood desk that was littered with papers. He fit well into this office, and the warm smell of cedar and fresh cut mint hung in the air. It was pleasant, Maya had to admit, and she enjoyed spending time in his office, thumbing through his books and asking far too many questions. 

He humored her though, and was always friendly, kind, and trying to push her in the right direction. He grabbed his laptop from his desk and scooped up the clear frame glasses from a stack of ungraded papers before settling on the plush green velvet couch that sat opposite his desk. Maya sunk down next to him, tucking a leg under her and dropping her book bag to the ground with a thud. She unraveled her scarf and shrugged off her coat, setting it across the arm of the couch before leaning over to look at his laptop. 

“Okay, soooo…” he said, his eyes glued to the laptop screen as he pulled up the website that offered the internship. Maya set her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head against her hand as she peered across him to his screen. “This is the company. Dr. Bronnard has been there for about 10 or so years. He was actually my professor at Brown when I was in grad school,” he chuckled warmly and Maya couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

“Brown, huh? Never pegged you for a west coast kind of guy,” she joked. He threw her a look and Maya gave him a full on laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. Speaking of, have you thought anymore about grad school?” he said, as he clicked through a couple pages to get to the internship application. Maya sighed and looked back at his screen. 

“Not yet. I still have two more years here and who knows what will happen,” her voice sounded tired, even to her. Professor Arden’s hands paused and he looked over at her again. 

“Two years isn’t that long,” his voice was low, and the warm amber light of the room suddenly had a lulling quality. Maya sank her head down into the crook of her arm as hair fell into her face. She groaned. 

“A lot can happen in two years,” she said, “Trust me.” 

“Okay,” he smiled at her again in that way that was so endearing, and Maya understood why so many students found him attractive. “Just think about it,” he shrugged. Maya nodded from her relaxed place and pushed some hair behind her ear as she looked back to his screen. 

“Is this a three month stint in Ohio?” she asked. Professor Arden gave a hum of affirmation. “Aerospace? You think I’m cut out for aerospace engineering? My focus is in biomechanics,” she said uncertainly. 

“I know,” he gestured to the screen, “But you’d be working closely with a team that is working on building a fully functioning garden lab in space. Botany, farming, sustainable harvesting, the whole bit. I think it would be a great challenge for you,” He looked over at her and Maya saw that promise in his eyes, the one that dared her to believe him if she would just believe in herself too. She’d missed that look, “Plus, it might be a welcome distraction.” His voice lowered a bit, as if they were telling secrets. Maya sucked in a breath and sat up. 

“What do you—,” she started, but Professor Arden shook his head. 

“I see you, Maya,” he said gently. “I get it.” 

Did he? She wondered. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she worried he might hear it. Maya couldn’t bear the weight of this pain that pushed on her now. She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and desperately did not want him to see her cry over something she couldn’t…wouldn’t explain. She needed to leave, she knew that. This pain would crush her and in front of a professor was probably the most mortifying way her pain going public could be. But she couldn’t seem to lift herself from the comfort of the couch. 

She held his gaze, hoping that the tears would not fall, but they threatened to spill any moment. And the pain of remembering that hollowness in her stomach, the emptiness and utter barren feeling of loneliness swelled and burst over her, propelling her forward. 

Before Maya even knew what was happening, her lips had crashed down upon his. They were soft and warm and he tasted…different. Her hand had found its way up to his sharp jaw covered in a pleasingly trimmed, soft beard. And he wasn’t pulling away. Maya found herself lifting her body, slinging one leg across his lap as he moved his laptop out of the way, so she could straddle him. His mouth opened to her, his hands grabbing her waist and held her tightly to the line of his crotch. Maya was lost in sensation. She’d never kissed another man, and the feeling sent a thrill through her, amplified by her grief begging her to forget if she could just deepen this kiss and take it a step further. Maya slid her tongue across his as a soft whispered moan fell from her lips and into his mouth. She pressed her chest to his, her nipples hard and begging to be touched as her other hand coasted down to cup his neck. Her hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his clothed crotch. He was pushing back toward her into the kiss and Maya’s mind started to go blank. The heat was rising between them as the kiss turned frantic, feverish. His hands squeezed her hips and helped her move across his covered length, and a wanton groan spilled from his mouth. Maya smiled into the kiss. Was she really doing this? Her heart panged with fear, sadness, and some unanswered excitement. Why did it feel so good to forget? 

Maya let her hand drift down his neck and chest, toward his belt buckle that jingled lightly between them, and in one swift movement, he yanked free of the kiss. 

“Maya, wait,” he said breathlessly, coming to his senses. 

“Wh-what? What’s wrong?” she breathed, her hair a mess, her mouth puckered and red, ready to receive anything he was willing to give her. Professor Arden shook his head, as if trying to clear it. Maya could feel him hard and wanting between her thighs, and almost moaned in disappointment when he shifted her off his lap back onto the couch. 

“We can’t do this,” he said, letting her go, “I’m so sorry…that was… you are..” he groaned and stood up, keeping his back to her as he paced toward his desk. Maya put a hand to her lips and the feelings of grief and loneliness erupted into embarrassment, showering her in pure mortification. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed. Maya was suddenly terrified of the person that she was. She had kissed a professor, her advisor, her confidante. What the fuck was she thinking?! As far as she knew, she was still with Paul. And she had kissed someone else. “Oh my god,” she said louder as she scrambled off of the couch and began to grab her things in a panic. 

“Maya,” he said suddenly, sharply turning and crossing the room. “Maya,” he grabbed her arm gently and she whirled around her eyes shooting up to his wide-eyed as if caught. 

“I’m so, so sorry. Professor Arden, I—” she pulled her book bag onto her shoulder, stuttering as she tried to find the right words, “I don’t know what came over me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean….oh my god,” she pressed a hand to her forehead as she looked at the ground. The tears were back and fell in earnest. 

“Hey, Maya,” he placated. Suddenly, that soft, broad hand was on her cheek and pulling her face up, “It’s okay. Really. I just don’t think…we should go there. You’re beautiful, and brilliant, and funny, and are headed toward amazing things….” his calming voice quelled some of Maya’s tears and she automatically leaned into his hand, “But you’re very obviously hurt and dealing with something and I won’t complicate things further than they already would be if we…” he swallowed thickly, his eyes coasting down her body for a moment and flickering back toward the couch as if considering taking it a step further right then and there. And for a moment, Maya wanted him to. 

She imagined the comfort it would temporarily bring her to be covered by him, her thighs spread as he pumped into her, nibbling at her breasts, telling her it was okay, it was alright, they’d figure it out later, but right now…right now they just needed to focus on feeling good. Together. She would moan softly to egg him on as he would bend her knees and push them toward her face so he could sink deeper and deeper into her, pushing her to a limit that would make her beg. She craved that feeling of connection, togetherness, and the warmth that would spread in her belly when he would come in her and fill her to the brim. And the soft sigh of relief when he’d pull out, peppering her with kisses as he dripped from between her legs and kissed her neck. 

But it wouldn’t be him.

She knew deep down that that wasn’t what she really wanted. That she would be picturing someone else the whole time. And she knew that the pain would come back tenfold. She nodded up at him and he gave her a reassuring smile as he let his thumb wipe away a tear falling down her cheek. 

“It’s okay,” he promised. “Believe me, I would if this was some other lifetime, some other situation. But I want to help you get to where you need to go. It’s kind of my whole job,” he joked. Maya let out a wet laugh and nodded. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she breathed. He clicked his tongue as if to shoosh her but she shook her head and took a step back out of his grasp, “Can we just forget this ever happened? I’m honestly mortified,” she ran a hand through her hair and he nodded, slipping his hands in his pockets. 

“Of course, consider it forgotten,” he said gently. Maya let out a sigh of relief and said: 

“Thank you, Professor Arden,” she crossed his office and pulled open his door. He hadn’t moved from his place by his desk. 

“Arden,” he corrected. Maya looked over her shoulder, “You should really just start calling me Arden.” There was that endearing smile again. Maya shook her head and gave him a teasing smile. 

“That would be a bit too familiar, don’t you think?” she joked. He let out a barking laugh and Maya made her exit without another word. 

--------

The soft shuffling of papers echoed across the tall angular architecture of the Butler library. Maya sighed and flipped through her textbooks. Finals were only a few weeks away and she was halfway through her second term paper, her brain threatening to crack from the sheer amount of information she’d been processing for the past few days. 

Rosalie sat quietly across from her, slowly reading a textbook that she very clearly already knew all of the information in. But, to keep up appearances and to keep Maya company, she pretended to be exhausted and overworked like the rest of them. 

The end of her sophomore year looked vastly different than that of her freshman one. She was on the precipice of a new opportunity and had her internship lined up for the summer, thanks to Professor Arden’s help, and Rosalie and Emmett were working out the accommodations for all three of them. 

Maya rubbed her eyes and tried to press reset on her brain. She tried to focus on what she’d be doing in just one short month in her internship in Ohio. Professor Arden’s connections with Dr. Bronnard helped Maya get a foot in the door and they delightedly offered her the role after one short interview. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was mostly Professor Arden’s doing. 

Ever since their makeout session in his office in February, Maya had been trying to keep her distance. They only met up a few times in either very public spaces or during his office hours where there were sure to be students milling about to keep the awkwardness down. True to his word, he acted as if nothing had ever happened and Maya would try to contain the red blush from creeping into her cheeks any time she was near him, still full on embarrassed from her clumsy misstep. Honestly, he had probably helped her get that internship in Ohio just so they didn’t have to talk as much. 

Still, she was grateful for the space to help clear her head of her mistake and forge ahead. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Paul was still radio silent. That was fine, she thought. The less distractions the better. And now that she wasn’t going home for the summer, it took a weight off of her. 

She would be away from her home for a full year. The thought made her breathless and a new, whining ache wound in her. Maya grimaced and tried to type the conclusion on her term paper. But her hands stayed hovered over the keys. Whispers floated out of different studying nooks and Maya looked up at Rosalie. She raised her golden eyes up at her and gave her a quizzical look. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” Maya said softly, but she knew full well Rose could hear her. Maya wasn’t sure where that question had come from, only that she felt like she needed an answer. 

Rose watched her for a moment, her soft, liquid gold eyes carefully catching on each of Maya’s features before she leaned in a bit on the table so Maya could better hear her. 

“Because I understand what it feels like to be trapped,” she said gently, “And so does Jake. Which is why he did what he did. Plus, I admire a woman who knows what she wants and is willing to break a few hearts to get it,” she smirked and Maya stared for a long time. 

“What did Jake do?” Maya asked. Rosalie paused here, wondering what the path of least confusion and hurt would be, measuring the weight of each option.

“He gave Paul an alpha order not to interfere with your life until you were ready. Until you came to him,” Rosalie said, her eyes holding onto Maya’s. 

The breath seemed to trap itself in Maya’s throat as she processed Rosalie’s answer. Jacob had ordered Paul not to interfere. That explained the lack of him showing up to drag her back. A familiar burn pressed in her stomach, one that echoed the full blown fire of the imprint and Maya swallowed hard in response before she nodded and looked back down at her book. 

“Will you?” Rosalie asked suddenly, snapping Maya up from her reverie as she stared at the pages of her book. They might as well have been blank for all of her comprehension in that moment. 

“Will I what?” Maya asked, her voice somewhat gravelly. 

“Will you go to him?” she asked with genuine interest as if she truly couldn’t anticipate the answer. Maya was stunned into silence again and couldn’t bring herself to answer. After a long moment, Rosalie nodded with a sympathetic smile and let her gaze fall to her book, releasing Maya from having to answer. 

-----------

Maya slipped out of her light black shawl and handed it to the attendant by the museum front doors with a smile. Noah checked his umbrella and followed close behind as Beez stood at the bottom of the marble stone steps that led up to the exhibit looking nervous. 

“You okay?” Maya asked, confused. Beez nodded and waved her off before tilting her head. 

“I love your hair!” she exclaimed. Maya immediately brought a hand up to touch her freshly chopped hair, cut in a blunt style that hung just at her shoulders. She had kind of done it on a whim that afternoon with Rosalie when they were picking out a last minute clutch for Rosalie. Maya had had curled into loose beachy waves that framed her face and put on some dark winged liner and a dark plum lip to go with her Anna October black mini dress. The razor thin straps cut down across the open back, exposing down almost to her low back. “So fucking cute,” Beez confirmed. Maya blushed and looked down at her chunky Versace heels that Rosalie had insisted on. 

“Aw thanks,” she said tucking some hair behind her ear. “You look great too!” Maya said, “Doesn’t she, Noah?” Maya turned as Noah shook some of the loose rain from his hair and he looked over at both of them. 

“10/10 Beez,” he smiled. Beez buzzed and turned, grabbing Maya’s hand as they jogged up the stone steps. 

“This is going to be so cool!” she exclaimed. Maya let out a little laugh and agreed. She’d been to a couple of art shows in the city on a whim, but these were all original pieces by multiple artists. And the artists themselves would be milling about. It was kind of a big deal, or so Maya had been told. 

Once they entered the wide open art floor, cut with smaller white panels to help separate the exhibits, the threesome made their way through the crowd. Maya grabbed a glass of champagne from a server and scooped up another glass for Noah who gratefully took it. Beez wasn’t much of a drinker and she was too wowed by the collection of bent and twisted ceramic and wood that took on a life of it’s own around her. 

Maya tried to contain her smile as she shuffled through some of the exhibits. At one point, Noah broke off to go talk to some industry people he had keeping an eye on and Beez skated away toward an artist who was talking about the inspiration for his piece. Maya stayed in front of a swirling piece of ceramic that seemed to defy physics as she slowly sipped her champagne. 

“Thought that was you,” a familiar voice said softly from beside her. Maya glanced to her left and smiled. Professor Arden was standing tall in a dark blue suit, his dark hair swept into a soft quoif, and his beard trimmed neat as always. The soft smell of cedar and mint met her nose and she exhaled slowly. 

Maya tipped back the rest of her champagne glass and deposited it onto the empty tray from a server passing by with a ‘thank you.’ 

Professor Arden passed her a fresh glass he had been holding and she plucked it from his hand. The champagne bubbled delightfully in her stomach. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“No problem,” he glanced down at her with a warm smile and let his gaze run up and down the length of her body with an appreciative nod, “You look great.” he said simply before turning back to the art piece. 

“Oh, this old thing?” Maya quipped, “Dug it out of the designer dumpster on 6th ave.” Arden chuckled and took a sip. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she finished. Was she flirting? Why was she flirting? 

He looked down at his suit and nodded, “From the dumpster,” he confirmed. Maya let out a small laugh and shook her head. At least it wasn’t awkward. “Oh, shit,” he said softly. 

“What?” Maya said alarmed. She rarely ever heard him cuss. 

“That’s Dr. Bronnard,” he gestured to a grey haired man standing with a cluster of people around him listening to whatever story he was telling about his latest breakthrough. “I didn’t know if he’d make it to this, but I want to introduce you,” his hand floated down to rest on the middle of her naked back, sending shivers down Maya’s spine. 

“O-oh!” Maya stuttered, taken aback, “Absolutely, yes. That’s my new boss so might as well right?” she chuckled nervously. Arden took a step closer to her, his warmth causing a soft tingling sensation to erupt across her skin, making Maya feel more naked than when she had taken off her shawl. It must be cold in here, she thought. 

“He’s great, I promise. Just be your normal, quippy self and he’s going to love you,” that warm smile spread across his face and Maya nodded. 

“Easy enough,” she breathed. He gently pressed against her back, steering her toward Dr. Bronnard. Maya had to admit that she felt good. Better than she had felt in months. She felt calm and confident and that hollowness in her stomach had cleared away halfway through her second glass of champagne. She smiled up at Arden gratefully as he waved to Dr. Bronnard during a lull in the conversation and introduced Maya, his hand still firmly placed on her back. It was comforting, and she leaned forward to take Dr. Bronnard’s hand and began to animatedly discuss all the reading up on his current project she had done. 

That feeling of calm never left her during their conversation, and Maya wanted to attribute it to the soft stroke of Arden’s thumb against her spine as she carried on and on with Dr. Bronnard easily. Arden cut in every now and then to offer some interesting tidbit or to highlight a recent accomplishment of Maya’s in their department. 

She was positively glowing, in her element, and had felt like she belonged here. Maya belonged here. Dr. Bronnard thanked Maya for her sheer enthusiasm and exclaimed that she had been the obvious right choice considering her passion and purpose for this project she was pursuing this summer at his facility. He excused himself to talk with a colleague and Maya spun on her heel with a squeal and looked up delightedly at Arden. 

“See? Easy. Quippy, self-assured, brilliant Maya strikes again,” he said enthusiastically. Maya shook her head with laughter and placed a hand on Arden’s bicep to steady herself on her heels. 

“That was amazing,” she finally managed. “I’ve never felt less like an imposter in my entire fucking life,” Maya was on cloud nine, she was spinning, and she was little tipsy if she was being honest. 

Arden seemed to notice because he said, “You’re not an imposter. I’m going to run to the restroom and get us some water. Those hors d'oeuvres really aren’t soaking up any of this champagne.” Maya nodded and clutched her champagne glass, standing straight. “I’ll be back,” he said, giving her that sweet, soft smile. Someone was going to fall in love with that smile someday. She was honestly surprised no one had yet. 

Maya turned around to face the room, drifting off toward an exhibit absently. She wound up in the center of the room, facing a tall wooden sculpture made from driftwood. Her throat tightened suddenly and she let her eyes roam around the delicate carving of the piece. It reminded her of home, something she hadn’t thought about in months if she was being honest. The wood was familiar, the white and green of the wood marred by years on the beach. She took a step toward it, her heart lurching in her chest and reached a hand out to touch it. She wondered if it would feel as cool to the touch as it looked. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to touch that,” a voice said gruffly a few feet away from her. Maya startled and whirled around, some champagne sloshing over the rim of her glass. She stumbled back somewhat and then let her eyes fall on the figure that had chastised her. 

Standing in an all black suit, with a black trimmed beard that darkened his whole face was Paul Lahote. 

“Oh…fuck,” Maya whispered. She fought from wobbling like a newborn deer on top  of her chunky heels as her eyes stayed glued to that of her imprint. The man she had left nearly 9 months ago after he threatened to keep her on the reservation in an effort to keep her safe, contained, kept. Maya swallowed hard. 

That explained the quell of the aching hollowness that usually accompanied her every waking moment. Paul was here, which washed away any of that ache, that pain that she relentlessly beat back for months. He was here and it just disappeared. Was life really that unfair? 

“What are you doing here?” Maya managed after a long moment of the two of them just staring at one another. His gaze was hard, angry, furious even. He looked like he was about to rip someone’s throat out, but he remained stock still. Hands in his pockets, silver watch glittering against the art lights overhead. He took a long moment to answer, his eyes taking in her whole face as if he was drinking a glass of water after being fed only salt for months. 

Finally, he gestured to the piece behind Maya. The one made of driftwood that felt like home. 

“Rachel got some of my pieces into this exhibit. I was required to come as part of the exhibit,” he said almost begrudgingly. 

How was he standing so still? She wondered. Maya was fighting everything in her to keep from walking toward him. The imprint thrummed, rearing its head and cried out for him. 

“I thought… I thought Jake—” she began. 

“Jacob doesn’t know I’m here. I’m away…on work. None of his business. And technically I’m not breaking any,” he gritted his teeth, “rules.” He spoke the last word with venom. Maya’s heart was beating frantically in her chest, “I didn’t know you’d be here.” He said it with almost disappointment and Maya felt herself nearly crack in two. 

Her mouth must have been hanging open slightly because she closed it abruptly and clacked her teeth together. The man before her was definitely Paul, but he was darker somehow. 

Anger rippled off of him in waves though there was no tremor to his physical shape suggesting he was fighting from phasing. Instead, his dark brown eyes held nothing but overwhelming malice, thick with what Maya could only place as disgust. But still the hollowness that usually accompanied Maya was nowhere to be found. 

Despite his anger and sheer disdain for her, he was here and the imprint soothed a balm of calm across her. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Maya said thickly, to which he scoffed at. Was this how they would be? Or was he just as taken aback as Maya. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he said, frustration coating his tongue. 

“Ditto,” Maya shot back, the anger rising in her now, an easier defense than the earth shattering sadness that was threatening to overtake her like a wave, “Glad to see you have the ability to go wherever you want, when you want. Must be liberating.” 

“No one’s keeping you away,” he was quick to shoot back, “Check any of your messages lately?” Maya blew out a huff of breath, “You missed Sadie and Seth’s wedding.” 

Maya knew that—her mom had told her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return the reservation, not even for that. She opened her mouth to respond to tell him as much, but he carried on. 

“Kim had her baby. Oh, and your best friend is pregnant again,” every sentence came out as an accusation. Maya hadn’t known about that last one. Becks was pregnant again? Fuck. “Not like you give a shit,” he said finally. The air hung thick and heavy between them and Maya felt the sharp burn of tears against her eyes. 

“Fuck you,” she said through gritted teeth. Paul’s eyes widened in mock surprise and it infuriated her. He nodded and looked down at his feet before looking back up at her. One tear had escaped and flowed quickly down her cheek. Paul’s eyes followed it and abruptly he took a step toward her, as if on reflex, but he stopped. 

“Everything okay?” a warm voice next to her asked. Oh no, Maya thought. Her eyes widened again and she felt that warm, reassuring hand on her back again as Arden tugged Maya a tad bit closer, clearly seeing she was in distress. But Maya was worried now that this entire exhibit was about to be shredded into pieces. 

Her eyes found Paul, but his gaze was fixed only on Arden. His eyes narrowed, pure daggers thrown as he cocked his head to the side somewhat in challenge. Arden straightened somewhat and Maya thought about stepping away, excusing herself, but she couldn’t leave Arden to the wolves. He would be ripped to shreds. 

There was still no tremors indicating Paul was in danger of losing control, but his face was contorted into that of faux chagrin. 

“Not at all,” he said, his voice dripping with challenge. “Miss Sunriviere was just admiring my piece, weren’t you?” Paul’s eyes popped to Maya’s face for just a second, pain shot through his features so quickly, Maya wasn’t sure if she had actually seen it or not before he looked back to Arden. 

“Ah, I see,” Arden said, not wholly convinced. His hand slid to Maya’s waist and she braced herself for the onslaught, “Maya, there’s someone over here I want you to meet. Nice to meet you Mr.?” Arden paused. 

“Lahote,” Paul said stiffly, “Paul Lahote.” 

“Mr. Lahote,” Arden nodded and pulled Maya around, his hand coming to rest in the center of her naked back again as he steered her away. Maya felt the heat from Paul’s gaze pierce her skin and when she dared a look over her shoulder back at him, he looked fit to roll into a rage right then and there at that hand on her back and burst into flames, but stayed exactly where he had stood the entire time as if bolted to the floor, unable to move.