Half Hearted Captive by Fate

Round One

Mom’s overexaggerated cough from the doorway was enough to cause Jonan to hesitate and pull back, a slightly startled expression on his face. He released the grip he had on my hair and apologized even though he did not look one bit sorry. I probably looked glazed over, spaced out and confused, because that was exactly how I felt.

“Jonan, have you calmed down and realized your father is not a threat to Rowan and does not need to be mauled… or should we wait a little longer to have dinner?” My mother did not look as if her husband had just been in danger of being mauled. No, with her hand on her hip, her head c****d to the side, and her posture dripping with sarcasm, she looked pretty amused. I don’t think I was durable enough to have the same sense of humor as a werewolf.

“Hey, you can never be too careful.” Everything was normal again. It made me feel even more crazy the way they had relaxed and bounced back. It made me want to check in with my friends and confirm that I had the right to be so emotionally exhausted and barely hanging on. You know, the friends I was avoiding because I was too cowardly to say goodbye, the friends who I could never actually say anything about werewolves or mates; those friends are the ones I should ask.

Damn, my new reality consisted of a future where I couldn’t be truthful with my closest friends. The last eight years we had grown from children to adults side by side, sharing every secret as a group. We had built things together, and we had broken things together. We had always been each other’s shields and support systems. Can you really maintain a relationship where you have to pick every word with care and conceal everything about your life, only sharing vague surface-level details?

The loneliness hollowed me out, leaving only a dark and frigid emptiness behind. It was so desolate and made me want to lash out. How could everything be so normal for Mom and Jonan? I didn’t want to cry again, but like everything else, I didn’t seem to have a choice. There was no cathartic release with my tears. Instead, it just made me feel weak and helpless.

Part of me wanted to marinate in those feelings, succumb to the emotions. I could be strong tomorrow. I had earned every single negative emotion, even if I didn’t deserve them. My sadness, anger, loneliness and fear were all justified. I would just give in to them and give up fighting them. Let’s be honest, I wasn’t winning the fight anyway.

The rough skin of Jonan’s thumb worked to wipe away the falling tears. It wasn’t nearly as tender and romantic as those types of scenes were when they were filmed for movies. It wasn’t Jonan, he was chiseled by Aphroditie’s hand herself to make hearts quiver. The problem was me.

I was an ugly crier on a good day. I hadn’t seen a mirror in a while, but I’m sure the bruising and swelling that disfigured me was not improved by the red eyes and glistening of moisture. My face had all the appeal of a festering wound. I don’t think I had actually run a brush through my hair since before the accident. I was solely relying on a single scrunchie to contain it.

Unless you end up in such a situation, you don’t really put much thought into what clothes can be worn in that state. Most of my wardrobe was too fitted to easily maneuver around the extra bulk. I had claimed one of dad’s old tee shirts, a faded Garth Brooks concert tee that had seen better days and some basketball shorts that had that Adam Sandler aesthetic. I had dressed for comfort. This was my meet cute. I wanted a redo. Before I realized it, I was giggling.

“Better?” Jonan seemed to prefer the giggling to the crying. He looked a lot less worried. I just gave a nod. I was a little grateful that both him and mom, for the most part, had just let me have my moment.

“All right, food makes everything better. Let’s go eat.” Mom seemed completely unfazed by everything. Since she had cleaned up, she had regained perfect control of her emotions, concealing them all behind a beautiful face. I hoped she at least was able to let go when she was alone with Rafe.

“Let’s go, Princess.” Jonan stood up, lifting me with him.

“Nope.” I objected to that term of endearment as soon as he had said it.

“You don’t like being my princess?” He feigned shock as he carried me to the dining room. “There are other options for pet names. I’ll keep trying.”

“You really don’t need to. We could just use our names.” He deposited me onto a chair and took the one next to me. Completely ignoring the location of the dish placement, he scooted his chair over close enough that his leg was brushing against mine. His father raised his eyebrow before giving me a sympathetic look. I wasn’t sure if it was an “I’m sorry he is so over the top” kind of look or a “you will get used to it” kind of look. At least, he seemed normal. Mom still seemed starstruck.

“Dad, meet my wifey.” Jonan thought he was hilarious.

“Absolutely not.” I did not.

“Too soon?” He was smiling as he said it, but I am pretty sure he knew it was too much. I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to lighten the mood or not, but it had the feeling of one of those jokes that has a lot of truth behind it. If he was going to playfully give me a hard time, I wasn’t going to hold back.

“We aren’t even officially together.” Did I know he wasn’t going to like that? Yes, but I said it anyway. He really didn’t like hearing that. He shot me the loudest look of incredulity, the way his eyes widened before blinking, as if the blinks would nullify my words.

“We are mates.” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain this to me.

“So, that doesn’t mean we have to be together.” I was partly giving him a hard time and partly feeling out his mindset about things.

“But, your instincts.” He really couldn’t even wrap his head around anything other than mates were together… period.

“Instincts are not concrete. People fight their instincts all the time. It’s called self-control. I instinctually want to throat punch people regularly, but have yet to give in to the temptation.” I think Rafe could tell I was being a little bratty. I caught a smirk when Jonan wasn’t looking. Jonan could not seem to tell.

“Why would you fight it and do that to yourself?” Maybe because I had grown up away from the werewolf community, or maybe because I was only half, being mates wasn’t all that important to me. I wasn’t as opposed to it as I was letting on, but Jonan’s animated disbelief was endearing and amusing. I couldn’t help myself from egging him on.

“Well, surprisingly, there are a lot of consequences for throat punching people. You can get into legal trouble and also, people don’t really want to be your friend if you are just going around throat punching people.” I stand by the fact that this is a very valid point.

“That’s not what I meant. Why would you not want to be with your mate?” My resistance was so completely foreign to him.

“Because I’m not twelve and there is more to life than boys and romance. I have goals and things I want to accomplish. I have already had to give up my home, my friends, my school and everything I have ever known, and you just want me to give up my dreams too… just because it sparks when we touch.” Maybe, it wasn’t all just to see his reactions. I hadn’t exactly made my mind up about the mate bond, but there was some truth to my words. To be fair, I hadn’t exactly spent any time alone and in a proper mindset to actually figure out how I was feeling. Perhaps, some of my subconscious worries were rising to the surface and influencing my words.

“Why would us being together prevent you from accomplishing your dreams?”

“We are getting ready for our senior year and will be applying to colleges and planning our future. It is hard enough to figure out those sorts of things for one person…. Will we coordinate our plans and apply to the same colleges together? I don’t want to make decisions that are so monumental and have to worry about factoring someone else into the equation just because the powers that be decided we should be together.”

“But we kissed!”

“I’ve kissed other boys before, and it didn’t mean we were magically tethered together for the rest of eternity.” This was probably not the best rebuttal. Jonan’s demeanor visibly shifted from disbelief to anger. His knuckles went white, and his hands balled into fists. Instead of leaning into me, his back straightened and his chest expanded. Rafe and Mom both tensed and cast nervous glances at each other.

“But we are magically tethered together for the rest of eternity!” Jonan delivered this sentence through gritted teeth.

“You don’t even know anything about me and I know nothing about you. We’ve never even had a real conversation. You could be some self-centered playboy who has lived a life of debauchery with no real ambition.” While his anger was still evident, it took a backseat to a new emotion… shame. Maybe I hit the nail on the head. The tips of his ears reddened, and his lips pursed as he tried to think of a reply. Round one,Victory.