The Mates of Monsters
Chapter 27

The sound of the door has me up on my feet like a dog. Lindsey and Helena watch as I hurry to the archway and peer into the hall. David is at the end in the foyer, closing and locking the door behind him. He's home earlier than usual, and I couldn't have hoped for more. "David," I breathe and rush over, "what happened with the man? He's dead, isn't he? Do you know why she did it?"

"How do you know about that?" He asks, taken-back.

"Lindsey and I were there."

"Why were you there? Were you looking for the scene?" He questions.

"No, we weren't. We were just walking to the gardens, and we saw it happen. W-We left right after and ran back home."

If anything, this makes him feel worse. I didn't go looking for danger; I stumbled upon it on my way to pick berries. It was thrown at me like a child approached by a stranger while playing outside. I can see the thoughts swimming in his head: she's not safe; she's going to get hurt; I can't leave her side; someone will take her. This is his pack-these are his people and they are dangerous.

"It was random, right?" I ask. David frowns, blaming himself. "It won't happen again. It was just some crazy woman and now she's gone. She can't hurt anyone else, right? It's fine. It's been taken care of, and now everyone is fine."

David's eyes squeeze for a moment as his hand raises. "Brigette, hang on."

"It's just-I've never seen anything like that. It was so crazy, I still can't believe it. She did it so fast like she didn't even have to think about-"

"How close were you? Were you seen?"

I cross my arms and guess, "I don't think they saw us. Why?"

"Don't do that anymore."

"Go outside?"

He watches me. "I don't like what happened out there, okay? And I really don't like that you were there."

"Well, it's not like I knew—"

"I know. Believe me, I know."

I let my arms fall to my sides. "Okay then what was it?"

David walks and I follow. "She was upset."

"I know that, but was there a reason? Did he do something to her? I mean, it was gruesome; it was feral."

"What would you have done if she came at you?"

"What?"

He stops. "If she attacked you next, what would you have done?"

My brow furrows and I stutter, "I-I don't know. I would have tried to shift like the man did, I guess."

"She killed the man."

My eyes gaze into his. "Why are you asking me that anyway? I don't want to think about that anymore. I just managed to move on from it, actually, because it's all I could think about as I waited for you; what if she got me too." David looks away.

"You shouldn't prompt scenarios you don't want to think about," I tell him. "Because she would have killed me for sure." "Alright. Enough."

I take a quick step to catch up as he continues down the hall. "So what was she upset about? What did he do?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't question her?"

He glances over. "She's refusing to shift back."

When we join the others in the kitchen, Lindsey stands from her seat at the counter. David sees her and sheds a layer of Alpha from his composure. "Lindsey, I have to apologize for what you and Brigette witnessed today. I am just as shocked as the two of you must be, and I apologize if you feel in any way unsafe."

"That's not necessary, Alpha, but thank you," she says. "I think we just needed a moment to calm down, right, Brigette?"

"Can you make her shift?" I ask him. "What will you do when she does? What will you do if she doesn't?"

"Has she been like this since the incident?" He asks Lindsey.

"It's been pretty quiet here. I think she's been holding out on us."

I ignore them and prepare to let a hoard of questions pour out, but before I can, David looks to me and says, "We can talk about it later."

We agree to have dinner as usual but with Lindsey, of course; a low-key night to unwind after a particularly haunting day. Helena agrees to eat with us as well, and as she throws some things together, Lindsey heads to her guest house to freshen up.

David goes upstairs to change into something else, so I trail behind him. Knowing what's coming, he says, "All we know is that the man was her mate. Nothing else. I am not sure what I am going to do with her yet, but Tarlo and a few others are considering our options. Is that enough to satisfy you for now?"

I fail to hear anything after he says the man was her mate. My ears seem to plug with dense, pliable air that also seems to cloud around my head. I breathe it in and it makes my chest ache. David looks back, and I murmur, "I'm going to take a shower."

It's routine; the second I start to feel overwhelmed, I make my escape. So I discreetly slip into my room and soak in the seclusion. I bite my lip and stare at the floor, putting all my energy toward the withholding of tears, of breakdown. One sentence can tip me over like a car balancing on a cliff-one gust of wind and I'm toppling over the edge in a self-medicated spiral. It's as if I had some sort of psychic sense, but the thought of them being mates-something about it hurts me. It feels so very personal.

How did she do it? I didn't think it was possible to kill ones mate. Surely the moon goddess would have ingrained that in fine print during our creation: can not kill soulmate.

I sit on my bed-something that hasn't been used like it used to-and I fall deeper into the hole that's been forming in my gut since the very moment she ripped out his throat. The factor that makes us live as we do is the balance inside of us. The animalistic nature of the wolf is tamed by the human, but that woman was anything but tame. The human body has always overpowered the wolf mentally, yet she refuses to shift.

Can she? Is refusing, or is she unable?

They say those who are rogue are not balanced the same as pack members are. People believe they have more wolf, more predator, more of a survival instinct. I suppose if you spend most of your time shifted, then you adapt, but she was not rogue. She was one of us- civilized, organized as we are.