Chapter 472: Off Limits
"It has been good for you being with the others," Lucas said as they came back to the clearing behind the pack house. "You seem happier. Not as eager to leave us so quickly."
He let her walk out from under his arm now that they were out of the colder part of the forest. The sun was able to shine here on the clearing, and it was much warmer than where the trees were densely packed together, creating one large shadow where the sun couldn’t penetrate.
"I have been learning a lot from them," she smiled softly. "And Graeme offering to have me in the pack was unexpected... I guess I am happier. I never thought I would belong anywhere, but it feels good here. It feels right. Even after everything I have done..."
She looked down at her feet instead of up into his blue eyes. For some reason she couldn’t hold his gaze.
"I saw the way you reacted when Pearce said you should be locked up. You have to stop feeling guilty about all of that," he muttered.
"No I don’t," she shook her head, chuckling at the impulse she felt to argue with him. It would never change. He couldn’t convince her not to feel guilty.
"You saved Graeme. You know that right?" He asked.
She breathed a sigh. "It wasn’t just me, Lucas. Sage was there and Maggie... Graeme was likely healed from being August’s mate, in truth."
"We never would have stopped that maniac without you," he said more forcefully now. Why was she so stubborn as to not admit at least that much? "Goddess, Neoma... I just healed from that. It wasn’t easy. Do you know how close I was... how close all of us were... to not making it that day?"
She glanced up at him, folding her arms around herself in a self-soothing way. "I didn’t even know what I was doing."
"What does that matter? You did it. That just shows how naturally good you are at heart," he said.
"Why are you so determined to..." she raised a hand in the air with her palm up, waiting for the words to arrive for her but they didn’t. She sighed and dropped her hand.
"To what?" He gave her a crooked smile.
"To pester me relentlessly with whatever truth you believe like I should also be the one to believe it," the words rushed out. "I will never forgive myself for all of that okay? Do you have any idea what it is like to have these memories of the person that you were, to feel the feelings you had, while also hating every part of them? I... I will always be Zosime. I can’t get away from it. She has so much of my past... decades of my past," her eyes started to water and she groaned, pressing her hands against her eyes to stop the tears from coming. She didn’t deserve to cry about it! She wasn’t trying to get sympathy!
"But she doesn’t have your future," he said quietly, touching her shoulder. "It’s not fair... I’m sorry for what Zagan did to you. What Andreas did to you... I wish we could erase it."
"Erasing it wouldn’t be fair. I should remember. It’s what I deserve!"
"Why do you insist on believing that you deserve any part of that? You didn’t ask for it! You didn’t ask to be born into a pack where alyko were looked at as evil. You didn’t ask to be handed over to a vampire and made into his test subject," he frowned, wishing he could shake some sense into her.
"But there was something in me that made me available to that manipulation. Can’t you see that? If I was stronger, then he couldn’t have used me like that. If I had been able to resist him..." she cried, her bottom lip trembling as the deep truth of how she viewed herself coming to the surface. This is what she thought about all the time—how she was so weak. How only because of how weak she was was Zagan even able to use her in the first place.
An ache was carving its way into that cavity that had existed above Lucas’ heart ever since his mate died, making it raw again. It was hurting for Neoma this time. For some reason it ached for the grief and self-hatred she had that she couldn’t rid herself of.
"I am not going to let you convince yourself that you are weak," he said, shaking his head. "Everything you have ever done has proven the opposite of that."
"I wasn’t like this before. I was worthless," she growled. "Not even Zagan could find a use for me until... until he could. And now I’m stuck in this body," she said, throwing a hand down the length of herself.
"You will start to age now, I’m sure," he said. "Your eyes already have."
"What?" She scoffed a laugh. "What does that even mean?"
She raised her brown eyes to his, and he gazed at her long enough that she felt her cheeks start to pink again. "You are different," he said simply. "I can’t explain it. But you feel like an old soul."
"Well I am certainly that," she said wryly.
"I’m serious," he said, reaching for her hand and taking it in his. "You said you trust me."
This was a problem—Lucas touching her. A warmth flamed wildly in her chest and rose in a flush over her neck and face.
"I... I do trust you," her brows knitted together. Why couldn’t he just leave her be?
"Neoma," his voice hit a low frequency that she felt vibrate inside of that flaming part of her chest, and she raised her eyes to his again. "You must trust me with this. Regardless of what name you choose to be known by, I feel that good part of you and so does everyone else... even those who would wish not to feel it, who would wish to hold a grudge against you. Your soul is too beautiful not to be seen for what it truly is. You must trust me with this truth until you are able to feel it for yourself."
Something was happening with his hand holding hers and his eyes gazing at her like that and his words that he was speaking, calling to her, singing to a place inside of her that was off limits, and she felt a vulnerability that made her panic. She slid her hand back out of his.
"Thank you for believing in me," she said curtly.
Lucas had the distinct feeling that she was shutting him out once again. "Why won’t you let me in?" He asked automatically before he had a chance to test the thought first.
"I did..." she sighed.
"But you are shutting me out now. Again."
"I don’t want you to get the wrong idea," she said, clenching her jaw as she did.
"And what would that be?" He chuckled. "You are not my mate. I know."
"Okay, then I don’t want to get the wrong idea." She said those words and then immediately regretted them. That statement was too true, and it ached to hear it spoken aloud.
"What?" He asked, his thoughts hanging in the air with those words she spoke. "Am I... am I giving you the wrong idea?"
"Maybe you are," she snapped. "You are a good friend, Lucas. Thank you. I will keep what you said in mind."
And then just like that, she was gone... turning to walk quickly back into the pack house while Lucas remained standing where he was, staring at the space she had vacated and wondering about her words.
