Nefretiri
"I'm... ready." It took me a minute to make the decision. Something in Ivan's voice kept triggering that alarm. Whatever he was about to tell me, it was going to hurt. "You know about me. At least the highlights... Whatever you've gone through, I... If you're okay with it."
Maybe I was too kind.
I could've played an eye for an eye, but I couldn't. If I was being truthful, part of me needed to tell someone about Ricky. Ivan pushed, but it was already at the surface. This felt different. Ivan might not be ready to share his life, but we were in a situation where we didn't have much choice. If he wanted me to go with him—which I hadn't decided on yet—I needed to know what I was walking into.
The fire wasn't somewhere I wanted to be after the frying pan.
"Okay..." Ivan tried looking unfazed, but his body sold him out. "Well... At first, everything pissed me off. Didn't matter what it was, I got angry. Everyone complained I was snapping at them, and that made things worse. Then, I started getting headaches, which made me more irritable."
"Depression."
"How'd you know?" Ivan sounded surprised, which gave me a flutter of pleasure. It was nice to know something someone else didn't expect from you.
"When you hear that you're crazy every day, you start wondering if it's true. I did a lot of research."
"Huh... Is that all you researched?" Was he flirting? That should've felt inappropriate and uncomfortable, but it was fitting for the situation.
"Maybe..." Giving him a little nudge, I urged him to continue. He didn't like it but didn't argue either.
"After a month, I stopped wanting to eat. I kept using the excuse that my stomach was hurting, but everyone kept telling me to see our doctors. They couldn't find anything wrong. Then, I lost interest in everything. Nothing caught my interest, not even hockey. Everyone noticed, but we all chalked it up to the stress of running a pack. It's a lot to put on someone in their twenties."
It did feel like a lot.
Why not wait until someone is older and has more experience? I felt so unprepared for the world. It didn't matter that I got married at eighteen and had a baby. Everything felt too big. So, running a pack felt like an impossible task. No wonder Ivan started suffering from depression.
"I couldn't shake it, and I tried. Werewolves don't do therapy, so everyone finds ways of dealing with their problems. There isn't a meditation I didn't try. I went on runs on my own, changed my diet, tried hobbies, and set up a new routine that was supposed to help, but nothing did. Until one day, I didn't want to get out of bed and was a shell of myself."
"Everyone wants you to be normal..." That was something I understood too well. "You're drowning, but you're not allowed to scream or ask for help. They tell you they're there for you but brush you off when you try to share your feelings and how lost you are. You can't possibly feel that way, or you'd be worse off. No one believes you because you know how to hide it."
"Yeah..." I didn't have to tell him I knew how that felt. There's a shared understanding when you drown in your own head. Maybe you don't know the situation, but the pain is where you've been. "I hate that you get it..."
"I hate that no one else did." Our circles were different, but they led to the same problem. It meant we were alone, facing something we couldn't deal with. "I stopped wanting to talk to people."
"I wish that's all I did," Sighing, Ivan rested his chin on my head, his fingers combing my hair. "I started drinking. It wasn't even to feel anything. It was just to do something. Our metabolism is higher than humans, so getting drunk takes much longer. I took it as a personal challenge... That was one of many mistakes."
"How long did that last?" The uneasy feeling grew, and I saw where this was leading us. I never did those things because I couldn't. My escape was getting lost in nothing or sleeping. When it did get worse, I was busy trying to run away. That gave me something to focus on, but it was never enough.
"Not long enough. I have a group of friends who do nothing but party. That was all I did in high school. So, within two months, I was bored. Three? I couldn't stand the smell anymore."
"You don't strike me as the party kind of guy..." I thought of what he said earlier. "Didn't you say you fell asleep?"
"And I did. All the time. The guys would be dancing and partying. I'd be in a corner taking a nap." His laugh sounded so bitter. What happened to make him hate himself so much? "It got old fast. So, I got into fighting."
"Fighting?"
"I got into a fight at a bar and finally felt something. Pain. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, but at least I felt something. So, I went looking for them. That's not hard to do at the end of a night. People are drunk, and it doesn't take much, but that didn't help for long, either. There was no challenge, and I had to hold back."
"So, you escalated?" I was guessing, but it was the obvious answer.
"Yep. Got into some amateur stuff. I made a few bucks but faced the same problem. There are rules about fame in our world. You don't do it. So, I couldn't come out as this great fighter and find better opponents."
"Why didn't you fight other wolves?" I'm not going to pretend I don't watch the occasional MMA fight, not all the time, but I like it when there's skill. That's hilarious, considering I don't know a thing about it.
"I... have a reputation. Most don't want to fight me," I noticed how Ivan's body stayed tense. He wasn't trying to relax, even though the conversation felt easy. This wasn't what he was scared to tell me, and I had this terrible feeling I knew what it might be. "As you can imagine. I lost interest quick."
"And moved onto...?"
He said nothing, and my heart stopped.
"That bad, huh?" No matter how much I tried to sound light and unaffected, I couldn't. "Ivan... If you don't want to tell me. I'll understand..."
"I don't want to tell you..." he cut in, setting me on the table. He slid down to the bench so he was below me. "I have to, though. You deserve to know who I am. I'm not proud of what I've done, Nefretiri. I hate myself for it because I should've been better, and I wasn't. It's worse because you suffered because of it. I know you said I can't blame myself for what happened to you, but it is my fault, and it's because of this. Pain was something I wanted until it changed. It wasn't physical anymore. It was in my head and heart, and I couldn't take it. Every day, it got worse. I'd wake up crying or screaming, and I couldn't understand why. Now, I know it was because of that asshole. I felt the things he did to you and your pain, and I was too weak to do more than drown myself. I didn't want to face it, so I didn't."
"You can't-" I started, but he growled, silencing me.
"I did!" he rose, turning to face me, and for the first time since we met, I was truly frightened. "It was so unbearable that I went to a dealer and begged them for something to numb the pain. I can't use human drugs. Most of them will kill us. So, I went to a woman who deals in things that work on supernaturals. It was just supposed to take the edge off, but the more pain I felt, the more I needed."
What do you say to that?
Part of me knew, and it scared me. Not because I could've left an abusive relationship for an addict, but because my brain started going through possibilities. I might not be the smartest woman in the world, but I know potions. I'm good at that and can imagine what he was taking. The same things that can get a witch or vampire high have the potential to do horrible damage to them. What if werewolves were the same? What if Ivan had hurt himself to the point of no return? Why should I care?
"Are you still using?" I was on my feet, and my thoughts were finally in an orderly line. "Tell me you kept some of it! I need to see it!"
"No, I got rid of it all..." I took him off guard. He wasn't expecting that.
"You could've killed yourself," I didn't mean to scold him, but it was terrifying. Potions are dangerous because you don't need to know magic to make them, but if you make one wrong move, everything can go wrong.
"I know..." I moved closer, and he moved back. It was so odd to be in this position.
"Do you still need it?" What was I doing?
"What are you talking about?" he stopped, every muscle stiffening in the dark but not from fear.
"Do you still need it? Are you still in pain?" I was crazy, but I wasn't thinking like a victim or even a woman. Right now, I was the sorceress. "If you still need it, I can make it. I can make sure nothing goes wrong. I'm not good at much, but potions? That's where I'm best."
"Nefra..." What was that tone? It was soft and awed. It was also vulnerable. "You don't need to worry. I'll never touch it again. My pain... it stopped today."
That's what he'd meant, and I finally understood.
The pain he was in was because of me. Every time Ricky hurt me, Ivan felt it. How crazy did he feel when it happened? It was unbearable for me, but I knew what was going on. Ivan felt the echoes without knowing. No wonder he went down that road.
"I'm sorry..." I didn't know what else to say. This was my fault.
"No, baby girl. No." he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me, sensing where my thoughts went. "This was never on you. It's his fault. It's mine. I ran from it instead of trying to figure out what was wrong. All you did was try to survive, and you did. The pain I felt? It was nothing compared to what you were going through. So, please. For my sanity... don't blame yourself. I made those decisions... I was the one who fucked up, not you."
I wanted to argue, but that wouldn't help either of us.
"So, you're clean?" I could believe it. The thing about potions is that they can be addictive, but getting off them is much cleaner than human drugs. "At least it doesn't sound like you were taking crystals. That... is raw magic, and I'd be scared..."
"Nefra..."
"Oh, don't tell me you did that!" my blood pressure rose again. Was that why he felt so powerful? Was he absorbing raw magic through crystals to get high? You wouldn't think that would work, but it does, and it's deadly.
"No, I... didn't know that was a thing..." I would've laughed, but I heard the guilt. There was more. "The drugs... When I was high, I would go off on my own and... sometimes I'd wake up in other cities..."
"Okay..."
'Please don't say what I think you'll say.'
"I started gambling... Even when I wasn't high, it was a risk and... I stopped caring about anything."
"That's... complicated." Ivan was checking off the list of addictions one by one. Was I ready to be with someone I'd just met who confessed he was a walking red flag? Drugs, gambling, drinking? That was asking so much of someone to help clean up.
"And I..."
He didn't have to say it. I already knew. I'd dreaded hearing it, and I know how stupid it is to care. I shouldn't, but I do. There's nothing more hypocritical, and it's morbidly funny. How can I judge a man I've just met for having sex with other women?
"Women..." The word tasted sour on my tongue, and I forced myself to move away from him. "You were with a lot of women."
"It didn't..." he had the grace to stop himself before he said it didn't mean anything. I'm glad, but it doesn't make it better.
"It's fine," I lied, sitting on the bench. "I don't care. You're a good-looking guy, single, and I've already seen how women look at you. You could have your pick of any woman, and I doubt most would say no."
"Nefra, please don't..." He came closer, and I couldn't move fast enough. It was stupid. I had no right to be angry or jealous. He didn't cheat on me, but it felt like he did!
"Ivan, really... it's not a big deal. Who am I to judge you?" I felt cold, and my eyes burned. No! I wouldn't do this! "I mean, I'm a mom. I didn't get pregnant with IVF."
I won't lie. I said it to hurt him, and I felt awful the second it came out of my mouth.
'Oh, wait until he finds out how pathetic you are in bed...' the laughter in my head was strangely welcome. It wasn't as strong as before, but its words were sharper and hurt much more. 'What was it, Ricky said? Oh yes. You'd be warmer if you were dead? Wasn't that what he said? And now this werewolf who was made for you is no better. One night with you, he'll ship you back to Ricky with a return to sender sticker on you.'
"I know that-"
"No! You don't know!" the anger came from the open wounds in my heart, and I let them go. "I don't care! I don't fucking care! We're not together. You're free to fuck whoever you want. It's fine!"
"It's not!!" he yelled, echoing across the night. Did anyone hear us? "Nefra, don't do that. Don't shut me out! Hate me, yell at me, threaten me, but don't do this! I know I fucked up. Even when I was doing it, I knew it was wrong. It has nothing to do with the women. You're right. We didn't know each other, but I was with them because I wanted you. That's a pathetic excuse, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry because I can't go back and change it. You have no idea how badly I want to turn back time. I hate myself because I know what you don't. If our bond is this strong, what if you felt it. What if you felt when I was with someone else? It isn't just that he caused you pain. It's that I did, too. A betrayed mate feels it when their mate is fucking someone else, and it's agony. I can't stop the thought of you suffering because I didn't know better."
"You don't have to feel bad about that!" I didn't want to deal with this, but my head refused to let me. What if he wasn't any better than Ricky? What if he'd do worse? "You don't have to worry. I didn't feel any pain."
'Liar...' my thoughts sang. 'How many times did you lay there, wondering why you were in so much pain? How often did you hear Ricky with one of them, and you cried? What if it wasn't him you were crying for?'
"Nefra!" he grabbed me, and I somehow managed to get away.
"I... can't..." tears ran down my face as I moved away from the picnic table and the dim light of the phone.
He didn't follow me, and I didn't know what to feel.
I needed the space, but I also wanted him to hold me and say all the right things. That was unfair and irrational for both of us. This was so fucked up, and I don't know if it can work. It's not just the thought of other women. It's how heavy this is. What if it's too much to bear? There's only so much we can take as people, and I think we're both past the brink.
'Is running all you're good at?'
'Stop!' I covered my face, the salt of my tears burning my lips. How could I cry over a guy I'd just met? 'Please, just stop!'
'Nope...' Of course it wouldn't. 'Are you afraid of what he's done? Or what he'll do? What do you think he's afraid of? He thinks you're angry over what's in his past. The things he can't change, but that's not what breaks you. Is it?'
No, it wasn't.
"I don't want to live like that!" I literally slammed into Ivan on my way back. He'd thrown his shirt on and was coming after me, and I started talking before he could. "I don't want to be someone's pet or servant. I don't want to watch the person I'm with bring women home and force me to lie and say I'm their sister. I don't want random women to look at me and give me pity or, worse, judge me like I'm pathetic for living with my brother. I don't want to stay up and listen to the man I'm with fuck some random woman he found because I'm not good enough. I don't want to worry that you'll get tired of me because I'm useless in bed and find someone else. I don't care what you did, but I do care what you could do. If that happened, it wouldn't be because you didn't know. It'd be because you don't care... and I can't do that. Not again!"
"I will never do that," Ivan spoke gently, his hand tentatively touching my cheek before wiping away the tears. Could he see them in the dark? "You are it for me. My loyalty is to you."
He slipped something over my head, and it landed against my chest with a light clang.
I touched the warm metal around my neck, shocked because I immediately knew what they were.
"Ivan... you can't give me these," I whispered, trying to remove his dog tags.
"I can, and I am..." He held my hands to him so I couldn't grab the chain. "Until you let me mark you, this is my promise to you."