“This isn’t permanent, Bel. We will come back to you.” Wyatt’s voice was hard and unyielding, as if he were chiseling each word into stone. He could feel Wyatt’s resolve, but Bel was sure the man wasn’t thinking clearly. The pack needed Wyatt, and after a while of living with their own kind, they’d come to realize they could be happier among other werewolves.
“It’s okay, Wyatt. You and River will always have a place in my home. Do what is best for you both. For your people.”
Bel stared at Wyatt for several seconds and then River, memorizing their beautiful faces. He wasn’t going to see them again. He felt it down in his bones. They’d found the home where they belonged. A pair of werewolves had no business living with a vampire, being part of a vampire clan. The Variks were headed to war with the remains of the Ministry. Their life was now being measured in weeks and months rather than centuries.
With the pack, River and Wyatt could have the life they’d been dreaming about. They were accepted among their own kind. They could shift, run, and hunt in the moonlight and the sun whenever they wanted. They would be surrounded by people who understood shifter problems. And most importantly, they would be away from the vampire war. The logic of this new arrangement was so painfully clear in his head. There was no way River and Wyatt would choose him over this new life.
Turning on his heel, Bel walked out of the office without a backward glance. He wanted to hug and kiss them both, but he didn’t trust himself. If he touched either of them, he wouldn’t let them go.
For once, Bel couldn’t sense what his wolves were feeling because everything else was drowned out by the pain in his chest and the tears he was holding at bay.
So, this was the love they sang songs about on the radio.
Bel was beginning to think he was better off never leaving his laboratory again.
As he stepped out of the house, Bel accepted his coat from a wolf who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, probably hoping for a glimpse or a meeting with the new alpha.
Bel drew it on and shoved his hands deep into the pockets as he walked out of the town, following the road into the woods. He thought only of putting one foot in front of the other. Not of the wolves he was leaving behind. Not of the life that he would never have again.
For the first time in many years, Bel clamped down on his powers, blocking out the whispers of all the animals around him, tightening his hold until he couldn’t even feel the pain of his precious wolves. He was weak. If he could feel them, he would turn around and beg them to come back to him.
To his shock, he was barely out of town when he spotted someone standing in the middle of the road. He knew that lean frame with the slight cock of the head.
Rafe.
His twin opened his arms, and Bel ran the last few steps, crashing into Rafe’s chest. He sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, finally letting out all the pain and sorrow that had filled him to overflowing. He cried for the love he lost, the life he had to give up.
When given the choice between what was safe and smart, and what was dangerous and just plain stupid, he’d known Wyatt would not choose the vampires. Not if he wanted to keep River safe and protected. No, they were home now.
And Bel was alone.
26
Bel pressed the fingers of his right hand lightly into the strings and adjusted his grip on the bow. Months had passed since he’d last held a cello in this way. He’d lost his interest in music when Julianna died, and the first sparks had been rekindled when River had shown interest in learning an instrument.
Julianna was still gone, and River was no longer in his life. He’d wandered around Marcus’s house, little more than a ghost, showing no interest in his old experiments. He’d met with a contractor to bulldoze away his house, but he’d not approved the plans for his new house. Part of him had hoped that he’d be changing the designs with River and Wyatt. That wasn’t going to happen now.
So, he found himself applying the bow to the strings, drawing out a long, forlorn note. The cello was comfortable. Familiar. It was as much a part of him as his science experiments. He’d forgotten that. Lumped all his music playing with the painful memories of his mother.
He’d been wrong. The music was soothing in a way he couldn’t explain. He didn’t feel any happier, and it didn’t give him any drive, but some of the weight lifted off his chest.
The music kept coming, tripping from his fingers until he fell into a familiar song. He didn’t know how long he played until he noticed that the cello wasn’t the only sound he heard. Lifting his head, Bel saw Rafe standing a few feet away, his violin tucked under his chin as he played along to the melody.
As the song ended, Bel lifted his bow and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m rusty, but that wasn’t too bad.”
Rafe lowered his violin and groaned loudly. “That was a godawful depressing song.”
Bel gave his twin a little smirk. “That would be because I’m depressed, Rafe. I miss them.”
“I know, Bel. I wish I could take this pain away.”
“I just don’t understand. Logically, it all makes sense for them to remain with the werewolf pack. It’s the smart decision. Right now, we live every night knowing that Damon or some of his followers could attack us. Wyatt and River are safer with the pack and away from the Variks. But…why do I hurt so much? Why do I still want them here with me? Is it just selfishness?”
Rafe placed his violin back in the open case on Marcus’s piano and walked over to his twin. He plucked the cello bow out of his hand and set it down before taking both of Bel’s hands in his. “My sweet Bel,” he whispered. “Love is felt with the heart, not the head. It doesn’t give a damn about logic. And you are the most unselfish person I know. You want your wolves to be happy, but your heart misses them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Moving his cello aside, Bel tugged his brother closer for a hug, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek on Rafe’s shoulder. All of his brothers had been hovering over the past couple of weeks, but Rafe was sticking the closest by far. He appreciated their concern. Even Ethan had offered up his blood for study, willing to suffering through another needle prick if it perked up Bel’s spirits.
Bel straightened, fingers tightening around the neck of the cello. “Thank you. I just want them happy.”
“But how could you ever think we’d be happy without you?”
Bel’s head snapped to the open doorway at the wonderful sound of Wyatt’s deep voice. River and Wyatt were standing there like the most beautiful dream. They were dressed in jeans and T-shirts, but their faces looked tired and even a little thinner, as if the past two weeks had drained them. For a moment, Bel was afraid to move, afraid to breathe. He didn’t want to risk waking and finding himself alone in his bed.
Shoving the cello at his brother, Bel pushed to his feet but didn’t move beyond that. “Wh-what are you doing here? Is there a problem with the pack?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” River said with a shake of his head. The younger man looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips.
“But I don’t understand…”
“We came home to you, Bel. Just like we promised,” Wyatt replied.