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The Finisher (Dark Verse Book 4): Part 2 – Chapter 23


Zephyr

    cocooning under a blanket, lying down on soft pillows and clean sheets, and letting time pass by while hiding from the world.

Zephyr didn’t know how much time had passed since the moment she’d come to the apartment, and she didn’t care. She’d cried, showered and washed everything away, and dyed her hair blue like her heart. Nothing said change like hair color. She’d cried some more, taken a week of work, and slept. And when she’d woken up, she’d stayed in bed, never wanting to get out of it. She knew she was having one of her depressive episodes, the ones she’d been having since her hormonal imbalance years ago, but she wasn’t bothered. She felt what she felt and it was valid, and if it was a depressive void, well she was going to drown in it. She’d either emerge on the other side, or she wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

At least, staying in bed, she’d come to the decision to just let it all go, let him and the memories of him go. Once she felt better, she would contact a lawyer and get the divorce paperwork done. She would send Victor a message and ask him to arrange to have her stuff boxed and sent back. And she would record a message for Alpha, telling him it wasn’t working, wish him the best, and set him free to live his life without any baggage.

And just the thought of doing that made her eyes wet but she would do it. She would let him go. Maybe someday, she’d be happy with someone again.

You’ll never be enough.

You love, and love, and love, and still lose it all.

No one loves you back.

The ugly voice whispered, and Zephyr stayed under her cocoon, hiding from it.

It was just an episode. It would pass, and she’d go back to being her jovial self on the outside at least. She hoped it was soon because her sister was worried about her and she didn’t want that. If she took too long, her family would get involved, and that would just do more harm than good, as well-intentioned as they may be. She’d be put on medication that made her slightly numb, and eventually, it would get better.

You’re worthless, you fool. You trust too much. It’ll never matter.

Maybe the numbing medication wasn’t such a bad idea. Anything that could push back the black sludge spreading inside her, eclipsing the light she loved, slowly taking over her mind, one ugly thought at a time.

She heard her door open, and stayed under the blankets in the darkened room, knowing it was just Zen checking up on her.

She’d be fine.

Fine, but not loved. Never loved.

She inhaled a breath through her mouth, keeping her eyes closed, letting it pass. It would pass. No matter how bad it got, everything passed.

The door clicked shut, and she stayed the way she was, hoping for sleep and sweet, sweet oblivion from the eclipse.

The bed dipped near her hip, and she really hoped Zen would just check her pulse and let her be for a while. Her sister, thanks to all her work with survivors she did, was really good at understanding what someone needed at a certain time. She’d always been like that, emphatic despite being quiet. And Zephyr needed space to let the ungly be without it touching anyone else

The blanket lifted up, and a body settled down behind her.

Strong, muscular arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into a large, hard body, the scent of wilderness and musk she instinctively recognized pooling her senses.

She froze, completely stiffened, trying to process this development.

In all her projections of the future, and she’d had many owing to her overactive imagination, there had not had one possibility where he came to find her. She’d always just assumed that he’d say good riddance, let her be, and simply live on as he always had.

This was unexpected, and she didn’t know how to feel. Was she happy he was there? Sad? Angry? Resentful? Bitter? Loving? What was she feeling?

She wished emotions were like flowers, pretty and color-coded so she could pick and choose which ones she wanted at what time. For some, maybe they were. Not for her. Her flowers had thorns, and they made her bleed.

And it didn’t escape her notice that it was the first time he was holding her in his embrace like that, his solid heat and strength wrapped around her, better than her blankets, she had to admit. Yet, she couldn’t relax into him. Her heart, bruised as it was, recognized him as both its tormentor and its healer, and she let it fight the internal battle, too tired to bother. He wanted to hold her, now of all times? She’d let him, keeping in mind each time he hadn’t, each time he’d rebuffed her or walked away when she’d needed the affection.

His arm tightened around her waist, giving her a soft squeeze, his lips kissing her skin under her neck. The other arm he settled under her head, plastering her body to himself. He inhaled the spot her neck and her shoulder met. He rubbed her stomach softly with his large palm. He gave her little squeezes in between.

And she hated the way her traitor heart fluttered at his tender petting.

“I miss you, rainbow.”

His gruff words in that deep voice made her clench her eyes shut.

No. No. No.

He wasn’t doing that. Nope.

This was not her plan. He was spoiling her plan. She was going to wallow and then send him a recorded explanation and divorce papers. He wasn’t supposed to say he missed her, not now. He wasn’t supposed to call her rainbow, not now. And he definitely wasn’t supposed to hold her like she mattered to him, not now.

She stayed stiff, pursing her lips.

“Talk to me, please.”

No.

She had nothing to say.

His hand went down her arm, taking a hold of her hand, twisting the ring that she had on her finger, the ring she’d taken with such hope. He intertwined their fingers together, his hand rough and large and so, so tender with hers.

Her nose stung.

He wasn’t supposed to do this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her neck.

He needed to stop.

And what was he sorry for? For leaving her when she’d been eighteen? For not remembering her? For not even trying with them now? For not accepting her love and not trusting her and keeping his distance? For leading a life that had hardened him to the point she’d bled on the barbed wires around his heart? None of it was his fault. He didn’t do that on purpose. He was just who he was, and she was who she was, and maybe, just maybe, they weren’t meant to be.

“Talk to me, rainbow,” he murmured against her ear. “Please.”

No.

He needed to go and not make this harder for them.

She swallowed, keeping her eyes closed, memorizing him again with all her senses.

“I don’t know how I lost my eye,” he began quietly. “My memory around that time… it’s a blank. I don’t remember if it was an accident or someone trying to kill me. It could have been either. I don’t remember a lot from that part.”

Zephyr stilled, unsure at why he was sharing it now. She’d begged him for crumbs of himself, and he’d rejected her over and over. And though the girl in her felt for him, the woman was mad.

She stayed silent.

“You were a part of my memories, weren’t you?” he asked softly, making something inside her tremble. Screw him for making her feel like this.

“Yeah.” She hated the way her voice cracked.

She felt his relief at her response. “Were we together?”

She nodded mutely.

“Did we break up?”

No. They hadn’t.

“You left me,” she told him, keeping her eyes closed. “You’d told me to wait, that you had something to show me, and you never came back. I didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the fight. Now, I know something must have happened, whatever took your eye. For ten years, I didn’t know. I wondered if you’d died, if you’d abandoned me, if you’d simply lost interest.”

His hand rubbed over her belly. “I don’t remember.”

“I know,” she croaked. “It’s okay.”

God, she hated confrontations, but it was the best they hashed it all out now.

“I—” she began, swallowed, began again. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted us to have a clean slate, to see if you could fall for me again. Moreover, I didn’t want to remind you of whatever your brain was hiding, trigger some trauma again.”

God, this was hard.

“But we’ve both changed. You’re a different man, and I’m a different woman, and while my heart still loves you—”

“Zephyr—”

“—I think this was the closure I needed. I tried, and it didn’t work, and I’m okay with that. Really, I am. But I need to let you go now. Move on. Maybe find someone else, have the family I always wanted. Put you in my memories and—”

She was suddenly on her back, a very large, very intense Alpha looming over her, caging her in with his arms. “Say that again,” he dared her, his voice the dangerous edge of a blade.

Zephyr blinked, confused.

He leaned closer, brushing her blue locks with his fingers. “I cut the hand of a man who touched your hair, Zephyr. What do you think I’m going to do to one you move on with?”

Her breath caught.

She hadn’t anticipated this.

“I might not remember you,” he whispered, his lips almost at hers. “But you’re my wife now. Mine. And I’d bathe this whole city in blood before I let you change that.”

He was being intense, too intense, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.

“It was only for six months,” she threw his own words back in his face.

He pressed a silent kiss to her neck in reply.

“We signed a contract,” she reminded him, hating the way her heart thudded against her ribs.

He pressed a kiss to her nose. “I’m not done with you, little rainbow. Come home.”

“And when you’re done with me?” She turned her head to the side. “Go back, Alpha,” she called him by that name, knowing he didn’t like it when she did. “I’m tired. It’s best for both of us if we move on.”

“Not happening,” he stated firmly, settling beside her, pulling her into his arms.

She tried to get away, he kept her close.

And it was maddening. He hadn’t cared one bit when she’d been clinging to him, needy for whatever he threw her way, no shame in the way she’d given her love. He hadn’t even spared her a touch when she’d been at her most vulnerable.

Her sadness and pain and rage all merged together. She wanted to claw at his chest, make him hurt even an iota of the little ways he’d hurt her, over and over and over again.

No. She’d give him the truth, and she’d let him go.

Zephyr stared at his tattoo peeking from under the shirt.

“Your mother told me about the alfajores.”

She felt him still at that.

She ignored his response, quietly telling him about her meeting with his mother, the two days she’d spent befriending her and how she’d talked about Alpha. She didn’t tell him that she saw him at the hospital breaking down, didn’t want him to know that she’d been witness to something to private for him.

He stayed silent for a long time, processing everything.

“How did you find me?” he asked after a long time, and she sighed.

“I had a friend in school who lived in your area. She told me about you. I’d go to see her and occasionally catch a glimpse of you. It went on for a while.”

“So you stalked me?”

Technically, yes. But her intent had never been anything beyond curiosity. She’d never even thought she’d talk to him, and definitely hadn’t been threatening to his peace of mind.

She stayed silent.

He pressed a soft kiss to her head, rubbing her back, tucking her into his large form. He was gentling her, and it was working. She could feel her insides softening. But a part of her, the part that had given and given and spiraled, that part still held back.

You’re doomed. Admit it.

She possibly was.

“We should get the divorce,” she mumbled into his chest, trying for the last time to get him to leave. “I’ve told you whatever I knew. It’s done. You have no more curiosity to handle. This… this is never going to work. I was a fool to believe that and to go after it like I did. Let’s just not waste any more time, okay?”

“I’m not letting you go, Zephyr.” His hand simply traced her hip, his words tender in the space between them.

Her heartbeats escalated. “But—”

“You know how a rainbow is made?”

Zephyr frowned. “When sunlight passes through a raindrop.”

“My life has been nothing but gray for as long as I remember,” he told her softly. “Rainstorms and thunder clouds that never went away. You filtered through that, all bright colors and exuberance and life. And the clouds are still there, but my eyes can’t leave the rainbow long enough to see them. You changed things. And I’m not letting that go, Zephyr. I’m not letting you go. Get that out of your head right now.”

Her eyes burned.

That was beautiful. The way he saw her was beautiful. And though she was still mad at him, she hugged him tightly, sobbing into his arms, not even knowing why, and for the first time in her recent memory, he held her.


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