Six

Chapter 6 Cherry

It was the day before the Moon Ceremony, and I felt sick to my core. Apprehension was wreaking havoc on my body. Inwardly, I chided myself. Why had I left it until the last minute to leave?

But the logical reasons for doing so came to my rescue. These reasons had become something of a mantra for me over the last few days. As I packed the last of my stuff into the small carry-on suitcase, I reminded myself of them. Today's flight from Seattle had been the cheapest I could find by far. On top of that, the scholarship I'd been lucky enough to be awarded for my tuition abroad would only start in the fall. Until then, I'd have to find a job for my living expenses. I had a small amount of savings that would give me a few weeks in a cheap backpacker's hostel in Berlin until I secured a job, but it was hardly much. So, it had been safer to wait until the last minute. The worst-case scenario was that I had to live in a hostel for the summer months and work at whatever job I found before my course started.

But as I zipped up my case, logic couldn't defeat the rising tide of worry surging through me. I pictured how upset my dad would be when he found out I'd gone. I smothered the image of him looking dapper in his suit for the ceremony that he'd shown me the last time I'd visited him. I remembered the joy in his voice as he'd told me he had his speech prepared, but I wasn't to worry; there were only a few embarrassing stories.

Emotion caught in my throat as my gaze swung to my dress: the beautiful silver dress on the hanger, suspended from the top of the wardrobe. Heather's dress. The one that she'd worn to her own Moon Ceremony and I'd worn to Chris's birthday. Inevitably, my thoughts skipped to Dylan, back to when each of his caresses had seemed to burn through the fabric and set my body alight.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, shaking away the heady feeling that those memories always conjured. I had to leave. He hadn't once alluded to the night of passion we'd shared. Not since the morning after when he'd said it was a drunken mistake. Hell, he'd said he didn't even remember the night. Something that had meant I'd never bring it up again because the truth was mortifying. While he didn't even remember it, I couldn't forget it. Every time I thought about it, my throat went dry, and my stomach tightened with longing.

Ignoring the awful sinking feeling in my chest, I dragged the suitcase off of the bed and hurried out. I closed the front door, deliberately leaving my set of keys in the bowl. All the while, the gnawing in the pit of my stomach worsened.

I tried to distract myself with thoughts of the future. I was off to lead the life I wanted. I had been accepted to study Fashion Design at one of the most prestigious universities in Berlin. I imagined a future where my designs were worn by real models at Europe's fashion shows. As I went to the car, I tried to emulate the unencumbered gait I'd watched those women strut down the catwalk. I tried to channel their confidence in an attempt to vanquish the doubt threatening to bubble up.

The car's boot was full of old portfolios and fabrics that needed clearing out. I'd ask my dad to take them and my car back from the airport later when I called him from Berlin. I opted to put my suitcase in the backseat before throwing the door shut. When I climbed into the front, my heart was in my throat, my pulse drumming in my ears.

I exhaled slowly before inhaling in the same way. In and out. In and out. Then, key in the ignition and foot on the accelerator, I drove.

I focused on the dirt track, snaking through the lush pastures of Lord Hills. Everything was on the cusp of summer: the tall grasses drinking in the bright sunshine, the scent of flowering blossom in the hedgerows rich and fragrant. A flash of tomorrow's ceremony skipped through my head. I could picture the moonlight beating down on Dylan and me, surrounded by our pack, exchanging our vows and binding ourselves to one another.

My wolf seemed to whine at the thought of what I was leaving behind, and just as I neared the end of the dirt track, where the two guards stood watch, sickness surged up. Swiftly, I stopped the car, wrenched open my door, and then vomited.

As I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, gasping for breath, I heard hurried footsteps. "Cherry, are you all right?" One of the guards asked.

So much for my plan to act normally as I passed them. Ordinarily, I just drove past the guards with a wave, frequently going by to visit my dad in Seattle. My plan had been to do the usual, but puking on the path was hardly normal.

I met Rich's concerned gaze as he came closer to me. "I'm fine. I think Dylan and I overdid it last night with the wine," I lied, hoping Rich would

settle for the explanation.

But his green gaze filled with concern as he looked over my face. I could tell he wasn't convinced, and I felt my panic rising as Sam, the other guard, moved forward too.

Rich said, "You don't look well, Cherry. Maybe I should call Dylan."

"No," I exclaimed, hearing the note of panic ringing in my tone. "No, I'm fine," I tried more calmly, but I noticed Rich's expression grow serious, and his eyes widened as he looked behind me. He'd caught sight of the suitcase on the back seat.

Now both Rich and Sam were looking at me strangely. Worriedly, I realized.

I steeled myself, and even though I knew they wouldn't believe me, I said, "I'm fine. I'll see you later."

I knew the guards wouldn't dare stop me. As their future Luna, they respected me too much, but that didn't mean they wouldn't inform Dylan.

Quickly, I climbed back into the car, started the engine and drove out of Lord Hills. Panic quickened my heart, and sweat dampened my forehead. I felt it slipping down my back beneath my thin T-shirt, as I cursed the narrow lanes that didn't allow for much speed.

As I trundled along, it felt like no time at all before a shape appeared in my rear view mirror. Low and close to the road. Blurry, it moved swiftly, growing rapidly bigger as it came closer. My heart drummed in my chest as I knew deep in my bones that it was Dylan. The grey and white of his wolf was now discernible in the glass of the mirror. The guards must have called

him straight away. He must have been working close by for him to have caught up with me so quickly.

Knowing that I had to face him, I slowed down and pulled up at the side of the road. I exited the car just as his wolf padded up. His sleek hunter's form disappeared, and the tall, muscular body I knew so well filled the space. As usual, he towered over me, his gaze tracking over me from head to toe as if trying to identify what was wrong.

Before he could open his mouth, I said matter-of-factly, "I can't do this anymore, Dylan. I'm leaving. I can't go through with the Moon Ceremony."

For a moment, silence fell, but then he stalked towards me, and my breath hitched in my chest.

"If this is about the ceremony, we can postpone it," Dylan said. "I don't care what my father says, or Nu-Chah for that matter. We can wait until we're ready, Cherry."

He had been so much gentler over the last few months. Sometimes, when we were both home, we'd sit in the living-room together: Dylan working on his laptop while I drew in my portfolio on the floor. Life had become more companionable.

"Don't you see, Dylan, that's just it. I don't think we'll ever be ready for the Moon Ceremony."

He scowled. "But I thought that lately, we'd grown to befriends."

Lately, most of my time had been spent working on my portfolio for my university applications, and the idea that I was going to lead a different life and move on from this one had cemented itself. I reminded myself that

Dylan hadn't had any time to adjust to this different future. But I knew, too, he didn't want a future where he was bound to me. He'd never wanted that.

A gentle smile hovered on my lips as I tried to lighten the mood. "We have. You've also become a really good cook."

He huffed a laugh. "If it's a culinary issue, I promise to learn to cook something other than ramen." The joke didn't disguise the melancholy rising in his darkening gaze.

My bottom lip wobbled as anguish pulsed through me, but I reminded myself he didn't want me. He'd never wanted me as his mate. Likely, he was thinking about his duty to the pack and how my leaving would disappoint everyone.

Yet even as I reminded myself of that, my wolf prickled beneath my skin at what I was about to say. "I'm sorry, but this isn't enough, Dylan. We're not enough. I can't lead this half-life anymore. I want more than what we've got. I want a real relationship, a full life."

His brown eyes held me. "Please, Cherry, stay," he beseeched. "Please, give us time."

For a moment, I softened. What I didn't admit to him was how our one night of passion was the best night of my life, that my life had never felt as full as it had then. But the truth was, his handsomeness hurt me. His being so close and yet forever so far away from me was a daily torture. I couldn't take wanting him with every fiber of my being, only to be rejected by him over and over.

The last piece of me, the tiny sliver of my heart that had been clinging onto him, fractured as I said, "I can't be your mate, Dylan. I'm sorry. Goodbye."

I turned away from him, forcing my feet to carry me to the car. After all, he hadn't said that he wanted more with me or even that he'd try to give me more. Instead, he'd asked ambiguously for more time. The implication being that he might, one day, feel what I already felt for him but he might not. I was done waiting for my life to begin.

As I shut the door and put my foot on the peddle, I left both my mate and pack behind and told myself this was the start of a fuller life.