Chapter 78: 79: Who Are You, Really?

ARIEL

The next morning, I sleep through my alarm, ravaged by a regret hangover.

Resigning from the warriors is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do—and I’ve already been through enough hardship for several lifetimes.

I squeeze myself into yet another suffocating dress and walk down the hall toward the dining room, nursing a splitting headache.

I find my mother sitting at the table, trying to coax baby Xavi into eating some scrambled eggs.

Xavi resists, spitting out each bite onto his already filthy bib.

“Mama!” he cries out. “Mama!”

“Where is his ‘mama’ anyway?” I ask, sitting down next to them.

I haven’t seen Natalia since I pounced on her, and I’m glad for it.

I’m already teetering on the verge of a meltdown, and the sight of her smug face could send me spiraling.

“Natalia hasn’t gotten out of bed yet,” Dianne says with a sigh. “Apparently even the sound of her crying son isn’t enough to wake her up.”

I look at the time on my phone. It’s 11:30 a.m.

Sleeping in this late is very unlike her.

Natalia has always been an early riser, requiring at least an hour to pick out her outfit and paint her face.

~I guess being a fucking traitor is a tiring job…~

I get up again, wipe off Xavi’s face with a napkin, and give him a kiss on the cheek.

It’s funny how I can love this child with all of my heart, despite my deep-seated issues with both of his parents.

“Where are you off to?” Dianne asks me. “Warrior training?”

“About that…,” I say, looking down at the wooden floor. “I gave up the warriors.”

I peek back up at my mother and see a satisfied smile creep onto her lips.

“Did you really?” she asks me.

I nod.

“Ariel, my child,” she says, taking my hand in her ice-cold one. “I’m so proud of you.”

~Wow.~

This is the first time I’ve heard my mother say these words to me—words that, deep down, I’ve always wanted to hear.

~So why do I still feel like complete and total crap?~

I guess even the long-withheld approval from my mother isn’t enough to repair a wound this deep and this fresh.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say.

Her smile grows even brighter.

That’s when I realize this is the first time I’ve called her ~Mom~ in years. Probably because this is the closest I’ve felt to her in…

~Well…~

~Ever.~

“Would you like to have breakfast with me?” she asks. “Now that your time isn’t taken up by that nonsense…”

“No, sorry,” I said. “I’m meeting with Vivian soon.”

I’d do anything to stay busy today and keep my mind off of the warriors. Even if that means helping Vivian plan each and every boring detail of the unification ceremony.

“Very good,” she says.

I turn to leave, but I’m stopped in my tracks by my mother calling after me.

“It may not feel like it now,” she says, “but you made the correct decision.”

~Goddess, I hope she’s right.~

Because everything about this could not feel more ~wrong~.

***

I have to stop my eyes from rolling into the back of my head as Vivian hands me yet ~another~ binder filled with tablecloth samples.

“That one is perfect,” I say, opening the binder and pointing at a random patch of cloth, desperate to get this over with.

“Oh, no,” she says, “that color is way too angry.”

“It’s blue,” I say.

“A very angry blue. The aesthetic of the ceremony needs to be serene. Welcoming.”

“Oh Goddess,” I sigh, “I’m not cut out for this.”

Vivian looks up at me with a reassuring smile. “That’s why you have me.”

She keeps flipping meticulously through the samples laid out on the patio table.

“You know,” she says after a moment of silence, “where I’m from, everyone is always saying ‘Oh God’ this, ‘Oh God’ that. It must be very…empowering that your god is a woman.”

~Huh…~

Everyone that I know was raised giving praise to Selene. I often forget that much of the world doesn’t honor her.

“I never thought about it like that,” I say. “But to be honest, I haven’t been feeling very empowered these days.”

~And I haven’t been feeling very connected to the Goddess either…~

“Tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds here,” Vivian says, closing the binder and looking up at me intently, “but you seem off today. Do you want to talk about it?”

~I don’t know…~

~Do I?~

Alex has been so busy the past few days. And with Amy gone, I haven’t had a friend to talk to about everything that I’ve been feeling.

~Is that what Vivian is to me now?~

~A friend?~

I feel her gentle gaze breaking down my walls, and surprise myself when I start talking.

“It’s been a really hard few weeks,” I say.

She nods encouragingly, so I keep going.

“I just feel like I keep having to change myself, over and over again, to please everybody. It’s like I’m turning into some mutated patchwork of other people’s expectations.”

“That can’t feel good,” she says. “Especially with the eyes of the kingdom on you.”

“I want to do right by everybody. But how can I do that if I’m still trying to figure out who ~I~ am?”

“This is going to sound cliché, Ariel,” she says, “but trust me when I say that I know ~exactly~ how you feel.”

“Really?” I ask her. “I find that hard to believe. You always seem so put together. Like you have everything figured out.”

“This house might have good curb appeal,” she says, waving a hand over her ironed clothes, her pin-straight hair, her fresh makeup. “But the foundation is filled with termites, honey.”

I let out a chuckle and feel some of the tension releasing from my body.

She joins me, and suddenly we’re both cracking up.

“It feels good to laugh,” I say. “I think I’ve been needing that.”

“Me too,” she says.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say. “It’s really nice to have someone who I can trust.”

VIVIAN

~Someone who I can trust…~

As soon as she says those words, my laughter subsides and I bury my face in another binder to conceal my guilt.

Ariel is opening up to me about her problems, while I’m still lying about so much.

But there’s one thing I haven’t lied about…

I ~do~ understand exactly how it feels to constantly compromise parts of myself for other people.

My father has controlled every aspect of my life and my mind from the day I was born.

He taught me that werewolves were dirty, nasty, subhuman creatures.

But the more time I spend here, the more I realize that everything he taught me was baseless and wrong.

In my short stay, these werewolves have shown me more humanity than he ever could.

I look over the edge of the binder at Ariel, and I can’t help but wonder…

~If I told her my true identity now…~

~If I confessed to everything I had done…~

~Could she accept me?~

~No way.~

~That’s just wishful thinking.~

~What I’ve done is unforgivable.~

~It’s too late.~

I see my phone light up on the table.

~Think of the devil…~

It’s a message from my father.

I should open it, but I’d prefer to do it in private.

“Hey Ariel,” I say, “if we’re going to get through all of these samples, I think we could both use a coffee.”

“Definitely,” she says. “I’ll go grab them.”

I can’t help but smile as I watch her walk off. I was planning on using the excuse to disappear into the kitchen for some privacy, but instead, she volunteered.

~She may have the title of~ Queen~, but she doesn’t expect to be served…~

My smile is short-lived when I hear the sound of more texts coming in from my father.

~Here we go…~

Dad

Lay low, VIvian.

Dad

You better be on your best fucking behavior.

Vivian

What more do you want from me?

Vivian

Xavier’s gone.

Vivian

Just leave me alone and let me focus on my job.

I can’t believe I actually just typed those words.

Something about my talk with Ariel has given me a spark of confidence.

And a surge of anger at my father.

I stare at my phone with bated breath, waiting for his response.

Then it comes.

Dad

Leave you alone?!?!

Dad

I should have done that when you were born

Dad

I should have left you in the gutter.

Dad

But I didn’t.

Dad

Now the LEAST you can do is obey me, because if I do leave you, you’ll have nothing.

Dad

NOTHING.

I throw my phone down onto the table in a blind fury.

~How dare he say such terrible things?~

Now I’m starting to realize…

~I’m just a pawn in his scheme…~

~A disposable pawn.~

~I’m a—~

~Oh no—~

My phone drops to the floor as the bones in my hands start cracking, one by one.

~NO, NO, NO!~

~It’s happening.~

~I can’t stop it.~

My skin sprouts fur.

My nails extend into claws.

Sharp fangs cut through the skin of my lips until I taste blood.

~I need to run.~

~Now.~

~Before anyone sees that I’ve shifted.~

~Before anyone sees that I’m a—~

“Vivian?”

My vision is hazy, but Ariel’s voice rings through my ears loud and clear.

I bury my face in my paws—the only place left to hide now.

“Vivian…you’re…you’re a werewolf?!”