“Exactly. That’s why I don’t follow one. The Elders aren’t so bad though.” He smiled as he mounted the bike.
I climbed on the back and passed him the strap. Once again wearing his jacket, I ducked behind him as he pulled away, but I tried not to lay my head against him. Every time I did, I felt the pull to sleep even more. However, each time I slept against him, the dreams weren’t of death.
“Why don’t you want to be Claimed?” I asked knowing he’d hear me over the wind.
He turned his head and half-shouted his answer knowing I couldn’t hear as well. “I do want to be Claimed. Just not now.”
That hurt. “I don’t get it. Why not? And don’t bother denying the pull you feel for me. I know you do.”
He shook his head and didn’t answer, frustrating me further.
I didn’t want to dream about dying anymore and didn’t want to spend the rest of this life pressed up against him. Or did I? It wouldn’t be the worst fate. But, I truly believed Claiming him would be the key not just to the type of dream I had, but the frequency, too. I could actually go somewhere without worrying about dropping off. Besides, if he felt the pull, he shouldn’t have any complaint about me Claiming him. I should be the only one with an issue with Claiming since it gave him a way to keep tabs on me through the link it would establish between us.
I watched the buildings as we snaked our way through town and wondered if there were other men out there waiting for us. When we cleared town, the fields and trees didn’t provide any more of a comfort.
The funeral pyre lit the night sky. My friend’s mother stood beside me sobbing. The somber faces of neighbors and family, illuminated by the flickering flames, seemed to float in the darkness. One woman stood out. She looked at my friend’s mother with compassion as she made her way around the circle of people. A chord of familiarity struck me, but I couldn’t place her since my family had recently moved here.
Using the lights in my mind, I searched for my little brother and father. They had remained in our home while my mother accompanied me. Their life sparks comforted me. Grief over the loss of my friend swamped me. She had fallen ill with a sickness that had also taken several others in neighboring homes. I couldn’t understand why anyone needed to die in such a way.
“Death always serves a purpose,” the woman, who I’d forgotten for a moment, said from just behind us.
My friend’s mother and I turned to look at her.
She reached up and touched the mother’s face gently. “Often, others die so more may live. Even the most seemingly random death can have the most profound meaning. Your daughter’s illness may spark a need in someone’s heart to create a cure for the illness, changing the direction of our society for future generations. Try not to mourn. Her death is not meaningless. Celebrate her life. Celebrate your life. To make her memory count, do not squander opportunities.”
The woman turned to me. “She felt like a sister to you but did not share your blood. Do not forget her. Do not forget this feeling of loss. You can be the one to change the future, to make the lives of those around you better. Do not squander your chances.”
I glanced at my friend’s mother, confused. She met my gaze with a stunned tear-filled expression. When we both looked back, the woman had vanished.
“Come on, Bethi!” Luke said, his voice sounding distant and tinny.
I blinked my eyes open to the familiar sight of him looking down at me. We were once again pulled over to the shoulder of the road on an idling bike.
“We’re never going to get there at this rate.”
“I’m not doing this on purpose!” I said irritably as I struggled to get off his lap.
He sighed. “I know.”
I felt his lips brush my hair and stilled. I knew it! He did feel the pull.
Tilting my head back, I met his gaze again. He looked guarded. “Why?” I said, unable to keep the desperation from my voice. “Why won’t you let me Claim you?”
“Because you’re afraid and think it’s the only way to help yourself.”
“And?”
“And nothing. It’s not the way to make that kind of decision.”
“What is the way, then?”
A slight flush crept into his cheeks. “With affection, not fear.”
My mouth popped open, and he gently hoisted me off his lap. Woodenly, I took my seat again. He wanted me to like him? How in the hell did I end up finding the only damn werewolf who wanted to take it slow and get to know each other?
“You’ve been without decent sleep for too long,” he said changing the subject. “We need to hole up somewhere so you can get some rest. Then maybe, driving won’t be such a challenge.”
I doubted it. The ten hours at the last place hadn’t seemed to help much, but I didn’t argue. I was busy trying to figure out a way to get him to believe I had feelings for him. I found him physically attractive but knew that wasn’t what he meant. Actual feelings for one of them? It would be a stretch.