Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 491(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 491(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“It’s okay, Wyatt. You and River will always have a place in my home. Do what is best for you both. For your people.”
Bel stared at Wyatt for several seconds and then River, memorizing their beautiful faces. He wasn’t going to see them again. He felt it down in his bones. They’d found the home where they belonged. A pair of werewolves had no business living with a vampire, being part of a vampire clan. The Variks were headed to war with the remains of the Ministry. Their life was now being measured in weeks and months rather than centuries.
With the pack, River and Wyatt could have the life they’d been dreaming about. They were accepted among their own kind. They could shift, run, and hunt in the moonlight and the sun whenever they wanted. They would be surrounded by people who understood shifter problems. And most importantly, they would be away from the vampire war. The logic of this new arrangement was so painfully clear in his head. There was no way River and Wyatt would choose him over this new life.
Turning on his heel, Bel walked out of the office without a backward glance. He wanted to hug and kiss them both, but he didn’t trust himself. If he touched either of them, he wouldn’t let them go.
For once, Bel couldn’t sense what his wolves were feeling because everything else was drowned out by the pain in his chest and the tears he was holding at bay.
So, this was the love they sang songs about on the radio.
Bel was beginning to think he was better off never leaving his laboratory again.
As he stepped out of the house, Bel accepted his coat from a wolf who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, probably hoping for a glimpse or a meeting with the new alpha.
Bel drew it on and shoved his hands deep into the pockets as he walked out of the town, following the road into the woods. He thought only of putting one foot in front of the other. Not of the wolves he was leaving behind. Not of the life that he would never have again.
For the first time in many years, Bel clamped down on his powers, blocking out the whispers of all the animals around him, tightening his hold until he couldn’t even feel the pain of his precious wolves. He was weak. If he could feel them, he would turn around and beg them to come back to him.
To his shock, he was barely out of town when he spotted someone standing in the middle of the road. He knew that lean frame with the slight cock of the head.
Rafe.
His twin opened his arms, and Bel ran the last few steps, crashing into Rafe’s chest. He sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, finally letting out all the pain and sorrow that had filled him to overflowing. He cried for the love he lost, the life he had to give up.
When given the choice between what was safe and smart, and what was dangerous and just plain stupid, he’d known Wyatt would not choose the vampires. Not if he wanted to keep River safe and protected. No, they were home now.
And Bel was alone.
26
Bel pressed the fingers of his right hand lightly into the strings and adjusted his grip on the bow. Months had passed since he’d last held a cello in this way. He’d lost his interest in music when Julianna died, and the first sparks had been rekindled when River had shown interest in learning an instrument.
Julianna was still gone, and River was no longer in his life. He’d wandered around Marcus’s house, little more than a ghost, showing no interest in his old experiments. He’d met with a contractor to bulldoze away his house, but he’d not approved the plans for his new house. Part of him had hoped that he’d be changing the designs with River and Wyatt. That wasn’t going to happen now.
So, he found himself applying the bow to the strings, drawing out a long, forlorn note. The cello was comfortable. Familiar. It was as much a part of him as his science experiments. He’d forgotten that. Lumped all his music playing with the painful memories of his mother.
He’d been wrong. The music was soothing in a way he couldn’t explain. He didn’t feel any happier, and it didn’t give him any drive, but some of the weight lifted off his chest.
The music kept coming, tripping from his fingers until he fell into a familiar song. He didn’t know how long he played until he noticed that the cello wasn’t the only sound he heard. Lifting his head, Bel saw Rafe standing a few feet away, his violin tucked under his chin as he played along to the melody.