TM [Complete ✔️]

18. Name

Sofia's P.O.V

"What's her name?" I asked Zane, who whirled around as if I'd scared him. Without his wolf and how deep in thought he appeared, I might have. "I just realized no one's ever asked yet," I added softly as he continued to asses me. Perhaps even assessed whether I was a danger to his daughter or not.

"Beyla." He replied finally, gazing down at the little bundle snuggled up in his arms.

"Wow," I exclaimed quietly to not wake her up, "it's beautiful!"

"What does it mean?" He c****d an eyebrow in understandable confusion. I was sure not many asked such questions, especially to someone as scary-looking as Zane.

But he wasn't. Not to me. I knew who grief and loss forced you to become and scary wasn't what you'd use to describe the person but rather the process of trying to move past it.

Despite how badly I tried to hide it, my cheeks grew red under his stare. It was as if his eyes burned a trail over every line of my body they peaked at, my skin all too aware of its mate's attention, even with the mind's protests.

"I'm interested in name meanings. Have been since choosing my daughter's name. Forgive me if I've overstepped." I hurried to explain, shaking my head at my stupidity.

"Little bean." He mumbled, my chest tightening as I witnessed the exact moment memories of his mate swarmed him.

"Was it what your mate used to call her?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

His entire body locked, chest rising and falling. He was all too aware of my stare, yet I couldn't break it no matter how hard I tried. This was the first moment since I'd met him that I was finding out anything about him.

Obviously, if I were to help him recover before I leave, I'd need all the information I could get. All that he'd be willing to give.

"A-huh," Sam snickered, "that's why you're prodding the guy for information."

"Shut it!" I mumbled, hoping my face wouldn't heat again.

"Yes." He replied just as I'd given up on receiving more answers from him. "Rosie hated the other nickname I had for her, so we opted for this instead." He clamped his mouth shut as if he hadn't meant to say what he did out loud.

"Rowan used to call our little girl 'flower girl' to annoy her. Her name was Lilly." I squeezed one of my hands into a fist, digging my nails into my palm, voice barely above a whisper. Perhaps I'd said it just to have him feel less alone, yet I'd had the opposite effect.

Now I was the one that had to return to her empty house, her stuff in suitcases after he'd turned her world upside down, and while his situation was just as horrible, at least he had a piece of Rose he would be returning to every time he came home to his pup.

"Rowan?" He asked. "Your mate?" I nodded, remembering my fallen knight as if I'd seen his face yesterday. I could still precisely recall every mole covering his body and the dimples when he smiled.

I hoped I'd never forget.

"Yes," I almost whimpered, "my-my mate." If only I could find the courage to tell him that he was my mate, now. If only it would change anything, even if I did.

We stayed silent, both our gazes on the stirring pup in his arms.

"I-I have to go, I'm sorry about this." I ran off before he could say another word, walking at a normal pace only once I was out of the pack house.

It had been a mistake to watch him, to talk to him. It had been a mistake to walk into the pack house just to avoid being home with my stuffed suitcases I had no energy to unpack. It had been a mistake, and I knew it well, to stay behind a curtain and watch his face, illuminated by the moonlight. It was a mistake to wonder what he'd been doing or what it would be like if I was no longer alone, especially while he was grieving the love of his life.

It, I, was a series of mistakes I couldn't stop and I hated it.

Before battle, Rowan always told me that if he died, his last wish would be for me to live as if I hadn't known him at all.

But how could I do that when he left a mark on my heart that could never be erased?

Zane's P.O.V

I watched Sofia run away as if the ground beneath her feet burned.

I had no idea what had compelled me to share such private things about myself and my family, and yet having someone who understood, even a stranger...

I couldn't help but compare myself and my progress to hers. I didn't know how much time it'd been since she lost Rowan, her mate, or their daughter, but she seemed so put together while I fell apart more and more every day.

It would seem as if it was starting to hurt less one day just to remind me I was in for a lifetime of that pain, that it wasn't going anywhere.

I wondered if she was as broken as I was on the inside. If, when she went home, she too needed to cry sometimes. If she kept his clothes in small plastic bags to preserve his scent.

It had taken a world load of self-control not to react outwardly when I felt Zion stir while we were talking. It was all I could do at that moment not to break down in tears, scream, or trash the place like I'd done to my suite so many times.

And it only became harder as he went away once more.

The feeling of his presence in my mind, in the comfort that came with him just slightly lifting his head...

It was as if I'd forgotten what it was like to have him, to not be so alone.

If only he'd stayed, stayed to help me figure out this mess of a pack I had no idea what I was doing in, to talk to me about how he felt, even if it hurt like hell to hear, to show he cared about his pup, wanted to meet her.

Apart from the obvious, hope might be the worst enemy against the grieving process. And the hope that bloomed in my chest in just the seconds I felt my wolf...

And yet it was crushed easily enough when he left me all alone again, wondering how he was holding up and if he'd ever be fully present again.

If I wasn't so terrified of the answer, perhaps I would've asked Sofia about it.

***

I tossed and turned for hours after putting Beyla to bed. By the time I'd fall asleep, if I did, I'd have to get up with her, leaving my frustration bubbling up inside me.

Jumping out of bed, I snuck out of the room, past my bean's bassinet, and strolled into the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water.

I downed it in one big gulp, burying my head in my hands and rubbing at my eyes.

Tired.

I was so, so tired. Exhausted. Mentally, physically, and in every other aspect of the word, I was spent.

I was tired of lying in bed all night, while my eyelids drooped closed but my brain never felt safe enough to let it last, I was tired of having to spend every waking moment drifting my thoughts away from that day, from my mate, because if I let them wander it hurt so much I could hear the cracks as they broke throughout my body, my ribs, my chest, my lungs.

I was so tired of being alone and unable to trust that the last of my family was safe.

I hated that the Moon Goddess had given me twenty-three perfect years only to make the rest a living hell.

I hated that I couldn't call my mother or my best friends because I had nothing good to tell them and I refused to dampen anyone's mood or progress any longer.

Most of all, I hated that I told my mate I understood and respected her decision. I hated that I couldn't yell at her for leaving me and our daughter, our dreams.

If I was ever capable of hating her, it would be because she wasn't selfish enough to choose me.

To choose herself. To choose Beyla.

A tear slid down my cheek as I grabbed the now-empty glass and threw it across the room from where I was sitting on the island barstool, the pieces shattering into the sink.

My pup cried out, having been woken up by the bang of the glass, making me sigh as I went to pick her up.

She refused to go back to sleep no matter how much I rocked her, leaving me on my feet, swinging my arms with her in them, as I stared off into the darkness.

"Zion?" I called, the stupid hope I knew I shouldn't mess with sneaking into my brain. "Zion, if you can hear me, I know you're hurting and I would love it if we could hurt together?" I suggested, the words echoing in my head with no one to receive them. "I'm here for you and I really wished you were there for me too."

A/N

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