She shakes her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“That’s just it. Neither do I.” I start to speak half a dozen times, then stop myself just as many because nothing I’m going to say feels right.
Macy’s quiet for a moment before she reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Let’s just take it one day at a time for a couple of days. See what shakes loose as you settle into a routine. I promise, it’s going to be all right.” She smiles encouragingly. “Okay?”
I nod, the knot that’s been in my stomach for hours finally beginning to dissolve. “Okay.”
“Good.” She gives me a wicked little grin. “Now, let’s put on some of these face masks. I’ll fill you in on the gossip you missed, and you can tell me all about what it’s like to be mated.”
17
Tunnel Vision
I can’t sleep.
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve spent the last four months sleeping or if it’s because of everything that’s happened today. Maybe it’s a combination of both.
Probably it’s a combination of both.
Losing your memory will do that to a girl. So will finding out that the boy you’re in love with, your mate, is the boy—the man—you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.
Macy was all excited about it, going on and on about how lucky I am to have found Jaxon when I’m seventeen years old. I don’t have to go through jerks like Cam （apparently, she and Cam broke up, badly, while I was busy being a statue） while I wait, and I don’t have to worry about never finding my mate （apparently, this happens more frequently than it should）。 I have a mate and, according to Macy, that’s pretty much the best thing I could ask for, better certainly than being human again. Better even than getting my memory back.
Mates are forever, after all, while almost nothing else is—or so she told me over and over and over again last night.
And I get it. I do. I love Jaxon. I have pretty much from the beginning. But is that because I love him or because of the mating bond, which supposedly has been in place from the moment we first touched?
Which means, what? That first day, near the chess table, when he was being so awful to me and I rested my hand against his scarred cheek, that’s when we mated? Before either of us had a clue about the other? Before either of us even liked each other?
I swallow a lump in my throat. Before either of us even had a choice?
For now, I refuse to focus on the fact that he knew from that first touch but never told me. Once again, I file that tidbit in my “Shit I Don’t Have Time for Today” folder—which I’m beginning to think might need its own filing cabinet before this mess is done.
Instead, I try to wrap my head around having a mate in the first place. I mean, I get it in concept. I’ve read enough urban fantasy and YA novels to understand the mating bond is the best thing that can happen to two people. But to go from that to understanding it as a real thing that has happened between Jaxon and me… It feels like a lot.
Then again, all of this feels like a lot.
Too much for me to sleep, anyway. Maybe too much for me to handle at all. I don’t know.
I grab my phone and notice Heather texted me back earlier. I let out a slow breath as I read her message. She wants to FaceTime later next week, and I quickly shoot off a reply that it’s a date. Next, I spend a few minutes thumbing through a news site, catching up on everything I missed in the world the last four months. Turns out I missed a lot. Eventually, though, I grow bored with the news and set my phone on my chest and stare at the ceiling.
But I can’t just lie here all night letting the gargoyle thing, the memory thing, and the mating thing all run through my head on a continuous loop.
I’d watch TV, but I don’t want to disturb Macy. It’s late, close to two in the morning, and she has a midterm tomorrow. Which means I need to get out of here.
I roll off the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible, then grab a hoodie from my closet—the castle can be cold and drafty at night. Next, I slip on my favorite pair of daisy-patterned Vans and tiptoe to the door as quietly as I possibly can.
I have a moment’s hesitation when I go to pull open the door—the last time I wandered the castle alone in the middle of the night, I nearly got tossed outside in the snow. I definitely do not want that to happen again. Mate or no mate, I can’t go around expecting Jaxon to rescue me whenever I get into trouble.
Not that I imagine he’ll be all that thrilled to rescue me anyway tonight. Especially since I canceled my plans to meet up with him, claiming exhaustion.