Veiled Spirits

He barks out a laugh. “Someone woke up and chose violence today.” Rhys ruffles the top of my hair, and I bat his hand away. It’s rude to fuck with a lady’s hair when two of her mates are watching. Rhys should totally know this.

“Today and every day,” I confirm with a grin. Unlike my mom and Aiden, Rhys has always understood my violent side. That’s probably why he went into the hands-on aspect of security, while Aiden, as a tech nerd, provides techy support for Elemental Security.

“Izzy found another one of her mates!” my mom interrupts. She’s beaming from the other side of the kitchen, and I feel a little guilty I haven’t told her about the wolves yet. Mom doesn’t understand why I refuse to mate with Bishop. While she respects my decision, she does try to persuade me to change my mind frequently.

Rhys finally notices Levi. His eyes quickly take Levi in, assessing him for strengths and weaknesses. Once he’s done giving Levi a once-over, Rhys turns to me. “This him?”

“Yep.”

“You’re not going to tell him I like to mess around with students, and you’re on board for better grades?” Levi asks dryly. He raises one dark eyebrow at me as he talks, and he doesn’t sound mad. I don’t know him well enough to get a good read on him, though.

“Nope. Rhys wouldn’t believe it,” I tell Levi, making hesitant eye contact. His black-and-crimson eyes twinkle with mirth when I look at him. Knowing he’s not angry at me, I let out a relieved breath.

Rhys snorts. “Yeah, kinda hard to believe when Izzy’s a—” He abruptly stops speaking when I jam my elbow into his stomach. Rhys yelps and rubs a hand over his stomach.

“Rhys Matthew Gallagher, don’t you dare!” I hiss at him. I will actually murder him if he finishes his statement. That’s one thing my mates don’t need to know about me.

“Okay, okay! Just don’t jab me with your bony ass elbow again. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, though, Iz.” Rhys’s hazel eyes are filled with brotherly affection as he stares down at me. My face heats at the awkward conversation we’re having with two of my mates right there.

I need a subject change. Stat. Racking my brain for something, I remember Bishop working for the Nightshade Pack. “Do you even work with Rhys and Aiden full time, St. James? Or was that just another lie?”

Bishop’s brows raise practically to his hairline at the abrupt subject change. He’s probably wondering how he ended up in the hot seat. “Yes, I work with them as my primary job. I help out the Nightshade Pack on my own time. I never lied to you, sweetheart.”

I shrug but don’t say anything. I’m feeling suddenly overwhelmed with everything, all the secrets and lies and heartache. As Rhys starts talking to Bishop about some operation they’re working on, I quietly slip out of the kitchen. When I’m sure no one’s following me, I sprint to my room.

Instead of slamming open my room door like I usually do, I quietly open and close it. I grab my guitar and ease open my window. Stepping through the opening, I stand on the sloped gray roof for a moment. Then I jump off with a grin. I mutter, “Defensare.” A thick shield forms under my feet, cushioning my body from the fall.

I land in a crouch. Straightening, I wander to my favorite bench in our backyard. It’s shaded by a towering elm tree, and the bench faces the forest. I have a beautiful view when I come out here. Lowering onto the stone seat, I lay my guitar across my lap. I also throw up a silencing dome. After a brief debate, I decide to play “Hits Different.” I start strumming and belting out the song. Soon, I lose myself to the music.

I pour all of my heartache and sorrow and anger and hopelessness into the song. I’ll give myself one song to feel everything I’ve been trying to avoid. Then I’m pushing the feelings to a dark corner of my mind, never to be seen again.

Why does doing the right thing have to hurt so fucking much?

Bishop is the only one of my mates that I really know. Yet it feels like my heart’s cracking in half, thinking about any of them moving on. The thought of them ending up with someone else is worse than anything I’ve ever felt.

I have to let them go, even though it’ll break me.

I’m so tired of hurting. That feels like all life is, jumping from one agonizing moment to another. Just existing feels like walking over a sharp, rocky cliffside, barefoot. It feels like breathing in glass, the jagged shards constantly tearing and ripping. It feels like there’s a vise grip squeezing my heart and crushing it with each beat.

Some days, I wonder why I fight so hard to keep going. It would be so easy to heal just one ghost too many and fall headlong into oblivion. My family and mates would be safe, and I wouldn’t hurt anymore. I wouldn’t have to deal with the taunts, attacks, and memories.

Anytime I consider it, though, I’m bombarded with the vacant faces of all the damaged souls I’ve healed. I see their relief once I heal them, and I know I can’t put my selfish wants and needs above them. Even though it’s slowly draining my will to live, I have to keep healing ghosts until it kills me.

As the song ends, so too does my pity party. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I try my hardest to shove everything into a dusty, dark corner of my mind. I have so much I need to do, all of which relies on suppressing my feelings. I can’t put one foot in front of the other each day if I think about it all.

A sob rips out of my chest during the process.

“I hate to interrupt, kid, but tall, dark, and scary and Bishop are behind you. They got past the dome,” Aggie informs me.

“Fuck,” I whisper as I try to wipe the tears from my face. I guess my silencing domes don’t keep my mates out. That’s inconvenient.

Levi snorts at Aggie’s nickname. “I can hear you, ghost.”

Aggie’s spectral eyes widen as she looks at Levi over my shoulder. “I’m just going to…go elsewhere. Good luck, kid.” She fades away. A small smile crosses my face at how wary she is of Levi.

Bishop rounds the bench and sits on my left, and Levi sits on my right. “Come here, sweetheart,” Bishop whispers with his arms open. I dive headfirst into his chest. My tears soak his shirt as I cry in his arms for who knows how long.

When I’ve got my emotions under control, I pull back. “Sorry,” I mumble as I stare at the ground, beyond embarrassed they both saw all of that.