It's a small room with a bay window, a large couch and armchair nestled in front of a rustic fireplace cozily. A large handmade desk sits off to the side, just in the nook of the window space, facing in with a worn chair tucked behind. There's an entire wall lined with dark stained bookcases, crammed full of old leather-bound journals of varying shades of tan, brown, and black, with no titles on display and I wonder what exactly is contained within the aged pages for them to bear no mark. There are oddities, and bottles, of all kinds nestled among them, and facing that wall are three large closed cupboards in matching deep wood that narrow the space considerably. There isn't much floor to move around yet it has a snug quality rather than crowded.
The décor of dark autumn hues, golds, oranges, russet, browns, and rich in color, which only makes the room close in on us more so. Especially with the heavy drapes at the window in dark red velvet, blocking out what should be light, but it's almost the middle of the night already, so there's a wall of black in the windowpane. The lamps are dim, almost candle flickering in intensity, dotted sporadically around small side tables and shelves, and add to an eerie atmosphere as the pack all sit around nestled together. Some on them are perched on the arms of chairs, lounging, while Colton stands by the fireplace, and I'm laid down on the bed out of the way to finally get some rest. The bed's modern, I can tell by the comfiness and the new crisp bedding that this was put in here recently.
My body is weary and heavy, and it feels good to finally know what a comfy safe bed feels like again. It's been so long since I was in a room by choice, surrounded by people I care about in a safe space, and I can spread out and not have to be on high alert at all. Weeks of living with tension, and heightened senses, all coming to an end, and I realize how incredibly exhausted I am. It feels beyond amazing to not have one eye behind me, and one eye on my surroundings, worrying about my next meal, or where to set up a good camp.
Colton moved us in here once they'd seen everything they needed to see in our shared memories, and it was obvious they needed a little privacy to talk this out and calm down. We were making a spectacle out front, and even though other pack members dispersed, we caught many peeking at windows.
The reactions were varied to what the pack saw out there when we mind bonded, and I think they're all still reeling in shock, and sadness, at finding out they've been raised with so many lies, for so many years. That the man they trusted proved himself to be the villain in our own story. I can imagine, despite it not being their family, their parents, it's still their pack, their blood, and their alpha, that it has to cut deep. The Santo pack has always been a proud close-knit unit, even for its massive size. It's how it's lasted the test of generations.
Meadow sobbed, hugged me like she was going to crack every bone in my body, and went onto a Spanish rant that involved a lot of cussing for a solid ten minutes, while she stomped around, throwing her hands in the air dramatically and pointing at the sky. I think she was telling the fates off for allowing all of this, but as Spanish is a language I never really picked up, I've no idea. She was animated and filled with fury, and yet deep sadness, as she kept stopping to catch her breath and cry some more.
Cesar quietly stared at me for the longest moment, until I felt almost uncomfortable; a thoughtful face etched with concern, before apologizing to me wholeheartedly about everything his 'blood' has done to me for most of my life. Right before moving in and giving me a tight embrace that truly felt good. It was solid and real, and I could feel his genuine remorse for being part of the bond that took away all of mine. Cesar is a paternal role in the subs, and for the first time, I felt like one of his pups.
The twins sat on the ground, overcome, and kept shaking their heads in disbelief, lost, and yet somehow enlightened at the same time, and they kept staring at one another, clearly mind linking to question every detail. They seemed to be the slowest at figuring out how it all pieced together, and then sat and looked bewildered. Blank expressions, except for wide eyes, and a downturn of their mouths. Sadness evident in their aura.
Radar lost his shit completely, and I flinched when he growled out loud, cursed Juan's name and stormed off amid a rant, semi turned into wolf because he couldn't control it, and gave us space. His words mumbled, yet I heard the name Sierra, and how Juan all these years kept her a prisoner of her own mind and denied Radar his right to protect his Luna. Radar seemed the one with the most fury, but I guess given how he feels about Luna Sierra, then it makes sense he would react aggressively. He came back after Meadow was done cursing out the fates, and stood silent, and broody, while occasionally staring at the ground in deep thought. His mind in turmoil.
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