The Moon That Cast Me Out

Dad

Cammy

I close the door behind me and lean against it for a second.

You like him, Wendy says.

We are not doing this right now.

But—

Dad.

That shuts her up.

I turn around.

Colt is sitting beside Dad's bed now.

He looks up at me.

"Everything okay?"

"Peachy."

His eyebrow lifts.

"What did Gray want?"

"To annoy me."

"Sounds right."

I walk back toward the bed.

The closer I get, the harder it is to breathe.

Dad looks nothing like the man I remember.

He was always strong.

He had to be.

He was Beta.

When we were little, Colt and I used to attack him the second he walked through the door. He'd scoop both of us up, one under each arm, and carry us through the house while we screamed and laughed.

Even after Mom died, he stayed strong.

At least physically.

The man in front of me now looks like a shadow of him.

"How much weight has he lost?"

"Almost sixty pounds."

I look at Colt.

"Sixty?"

He nods.

"Most of it in the last three months."

"Jesus."

I sit beside Dad.

His hand rests on top of the blanket.

Thin.

Pale.

Not my dad's hand.

I stare at it.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Colt is quiet.

I look at him.

"You said he's been sick for six months."

"He wouldn't let me."

"What?"

"Dad didn't want you contacted."

I stare at him.

"Why?"

"He said he'd already ruined enough of your life."

My throat tightens.

"Then why now?"

"Because he's dying."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Colt sighs.

"He changed his mind a few weeks ago. He told me he didn't want to die without seeing you again."

I look at Dad.

Six years.

He had six years.

Six years to call.

Six years to find me.

Six years to say he was sorry.

And now I'm supposed to sit here while he dies and pretend those years don't matter?

He's still Dad, Wendy whispers.

I know.

That's what makes it hurt.

I finally reach out and take his hand.

His skin is cold.

"Dad?"

Nothing.

I squeeze his fingers.

"Dad, it's Cammy."

His eyelids flutter.

Colt stands.

"Dad?"

Slowly, his eyes open.

Those familiar green eyes find Colt first.

Then they move to me.

He stares.

For a second, I don't think he recognizes me.

Then his fingers tighten weakly around mine.

"Camellia?"

I haven't heard him call me that in six years.

"Hi, Dad."

His eyes fill immediately.

"Oh, Goddess."

He tries to sit up.

"Don't."

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay."

"Cammy."

"I'm here."

He reaches for my face.

I almost pull away.

Almost.

But I don't.

His palm rests against my cheek.

"Look at you."

I swallow.

"Yeah. Got old."

A weak laugh escapes him.

"Beautiful."

My eyes burn.

"You look like your mother."

And there it is.

The sentence guaranteed to destroy me.

I look down.

"Colt says you've been sick."

His hand falls from my face.

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

His eyes flick toward Colt.

"I went for a run."

"Alone?"

He nods.

"Where?"

"North side."

Colt crosses his arms.

"I've asked him this a hundred times."

Dad looks annoyed.

Nice to know dying hasn't completely changed him.

"I've told you everything I remember."

"Then tell me," I say.

His eyes return to mine.

"I was running. Everything was normal. Then I started feeling tired."

"Tired?"

"Weak. Dizzy."

"Were you attacked?"

"No."

"Did you smell rogues?"

"No."

"Anything unusual?"

He hesitates.

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Dad."

"There was a smell."

Colt immediately steps closer.

"You never told me that."

"I didn't think it mattered."

"What kind of smell?" I ask.

Dad closes his eyes.

"Sweet."

"Flowers?"

"No."

"Food?"

"I don't know. Just sweet."

That isn't much to go on.

"What happened next?"

"I shifted back."

"By choice?"

His eyes open.

"No."

That gets my attention.

"So your wolf forced the shift?"

"I think so."

"Can you feel him now?"

Dad's face crumples slightly.

"Barely."

Wendy whines.

For a wolf, losing that connection is almost unimaginable.

Our wolves aren't pets.

They're us.

"Have you shifted at all since?"

"No."

Six months without shifting.

Holy s**t.

"What do the doctors say?"

"That they've never seen anything like it," Colt answers.

"They've tested for wolfsbane?"

"Multiple times."

"Silver poisoning?"

"Nothing."

"Other diseases?"

"Everything they can think of."

I look back at Dad.

"What about magic?"

Silence.

Colt's brow furrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Witchcraft."

Dad stiffens.

I feel it through his hand.

Interesting.

"Have you had a witch look at him?"

"No," Colt says.

"Why not?"

"Because we don't exactly have witches hanging around Opal Moon."

"Mom lived here."

"Mom was Dad's mate."

"That doesn't make her less of a witch."

"I didn't say it did."

Dad squeezes my hand.

"You learned."

I look at him.

"What?"

"Magic."

I glance at Colt.

Apparently he's been sharing everything.

"Esmeralda taught me."

Dad smiles faintly.

"Your mother would've liked that."

Something cracks inside me.

"Mom would've taught me herself if she hadn't died."

"I know."

The words come out before I can stop them.

"And maybe I would've had someone to teach me sooner if I hadn't been thrown out at sixteen."

Colt looks toward the floor.

Dad closes his eyes.

Good.

I'm not going to pretend it didn't happen because he's dying.

"I'm sorry."

I freeze.

Dad opens his eyes again.

Tears gather in them.

"I am so sorry, Camellia."

I stare at him.

"For which part?"

"All of it."

My chest hurts.

"I should've stopped you."

"Yeah."

"I should've challenged Morpheus."

"Yeah."

"I should've asked what happened."

I blink quickly.

"Yeah."

His voice breaks.

"I was your father before I was Beta."

My tears spill over.

"Then why didn't you act like it?"

Colt turns away.

Dad doesn't.

He looks straight at me.

"Because I was a coward."

I wasn't expecting that.

No excuses.

No pack laws.

No Alpha orders.

Just that.

"I told myself I couldn't challenge my Alpha. I told myself you had attacked four pack members and refused to explain why. I told myself you needed time to calm down."

"You let me leave."

"I know."

"I was sixteen."

"I know."

"I didn't even know where I was going."

His face twists.

"I know."

"You didn't come after me."

"I wanted to."

"But you didn't."

"No."

I wipe my cheeks angrily.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was?"

"I'm sorry."

"I got on a bus and went to New York because the woman selling tickets said it was the farthest place I could get to with the money I had."

Dad closes his eyes.

"I slept sitting up for three days. I didn't know anyone. I didn't have anywhere to live."

"Cammy," Colt whispers.

"No."

I look at him.

"I need to say this."

He nods.

I turn back to Dad.

"I needed you."

Dad's shoulders shake.

"I know."

"And you weren't there."

"I'm sorry."

I hate how badly I've wanted to hear those words.

I hate that part of me wants to crawl into bed beside him like I'm six years old and let him tell me everything will be okay.

Because it won't.

Mom is dead.

I'm twenty-two.

Dad is dying.

Six years are gone.

An apology doesn't give them back.

"I don't know if I can forgive you."

Dad nods.

"You don't have to."

That makes me cry harder.

He squeezes my hand with what little strength he has.

"I didn't ask you here for forgiveness."

"Then why?"

"Because I needed to see my little girl one more time."

Fuck.

I lower my head.

His thumb brushes weakly across my knuckles.

"And I needed you to know that what happened wasn't your fault."

My head snaps up.

"What?"

His eyes are already closing.

"Dad?"

His breathing slows.

"He's tired," Colt says.

"No. Dad, what do you mean?"

He doesn't answer.

"Dad?"

Nothing.

I look at Colt.

"What did he mean?"

"I don't know."

"Colt."

"I swear, Cammy. I don't know."

I look back at Dad.

His breathing is steady.

He's asleep.

He knows something, Wendy says.

Yeah.

He does.

I look down at our joined hands.

Something isn't right.

And suddenly saying goodbye isn't the only reason I need to stay at Opal Moon.