Darcingtowne Wolves: The Misfits (Book 1)

Chapter Eighteen: Anguish

Tobias turned, his feet stumbling automatically toward the parked SUV that Daniel had already fired up, a bewildered expression on his face as the door to Mason’s cabin shut behind him. This meeting had veered so far off into left field that he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to find his way back to the pack house - though they were right on the border of Twilight Promenade territory. Luckily, Daniel was the one driving.

Though the sharp stabbing pain in his chest had faded to dull, stinging pinpricks, Tobias still hadn’t quite returned to himself. He sat in the passenger’s seat with a brown paper bag of desserts in his lap, while Daniel talked. The hollow expression on his face only dissipated when Daniel pulled to a screeching halt in front of the packhouse, and started snapping his fingers in front of the young Gamma’s face.

“Did you hear a damn thing I just said, Tobias?” Daniel growled.

Toby swallowed, and looked over at Daniel, a pained expression blooming over his sharp features. “No, I apologize Beta Daniel. I didn’t hear anything after getting into the car.”

The beta grunted at this, and shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what your relationship is to the Silvius girl - and no, do not tell me. I don’t want to know, in case someone that I can’t lie to decides to ask. But, you need to sort things out… quick.”

Toby nodded. He understood what the Beta was trying to get at, but felt it was kind of a moot point. He’d already decided on his course of action; he just needed the opportunity to see it through. Mason had indicated that Penelope’s packhouse was nearby, but that could mean a lot of things. The city was huge, and Twilight Promenade was in the heart of it all.

Right now, Toby was still in too much shock to start hunting down his soon to be former mate, so instead of saying anything else he just got out of the car and wandered slowly to the pack house. He went first to the kitchen so that he could put the jars of peanut butter budino into the fridge for later, then made his way back to his quarters, greeting any packmates he came across on the way with an empty smile or bob of his head. Though it was only just past mid day, he was exhausted, and fell into his bed face first.

Only then did he let out a small, tight little sob. Only then did he finally acknowledge that, despite knowing the choice ahead of him was the right one for both of them, it was not what he truly wanted. It was patently ridiculous, but what he wanted was her - Penelope, Alpha of The Misfits. Moon Goddess, even her pack’s name was ridiculous. A woman he’d locked eyes with for a scant 30 seconds before she literally ran away from him. Why did he want her, again?

It couldn’t just be her beauty, though she was beautiful. Was it because of the strength she showed, standing up for her friend? No. What had really struck him, paradoxically, was how firm she’d been in refusing to leverage her mate for political gain. It was at once uplifting to his beleaguered soul, which had suffered long in a pack where prestige and political power were what mattered most, and heart wrenching - because he was the mate she’d been so openly willing to set aside. She’d restored his faith in the existence of good, dutiful pack leadership, while ripping his heart out in the same breath.

Tobias hadn’t cried in years; not since the last time his back had been split open with the silver barbed whip. But then, he wasn’t crying for himself. He cried because it hurt him to see Francesca waiting and scrambling, begging her father to stop torturing her Gamma. Now he was crying only for himself - and somehow that made the bitter sting of the tears more shameful. 

Still, he couldn’t stop them once he’d let them out. His anguished cries only grew louder as he curled in on himself, his chest aching as he tried to draw in enough breath to continue crying.

When her father arrived at The Misfits packhouse a short while later, Penelope was in a right foul mood. Everything was bothering her, and she couldn’t shake the horrible sting in her chest. It was like heartburn, threatening to choke her as it rose up to her throat. All she could think was that maybe her heat was coming on; she knew that meeting one’s mate could trigger an early heat, though she’d never experienced symptoms quite like this before. So, in order to spare her packmates from her unwarranted wrath, Penelope did what she’d always done when she was feeling emotionally unstable; she went impassive. It was a neat trick; one she’d learned from the best.

Mason sat down at the table across from his daughter, and they both stared into each other’s blank, emotionless faces, waiting for the other to speak first. Carrie, Ryan, and Sebastian were watching the father daughter duo with interest from various positions throughout the kitchen - not wanting to be too close in case one of them lost their s**t. It had been known to happen.

“Penelope.” Mason said, sliding a jar of peanut butter budino and a spoon across the table to her.

“Pops.” Penelope replied as she unscrewed the lid of the jar.

“This mate of yours…” Mason started as he dug a spoon into the open jar in front of him.

“What about him?” Penelope lifted her now laden spoon to her mouth.

“You can’t reject him.” Mason said simply.

“I don’t want to, but…” Penny said, a crack forming in her impassive mask as her lips twitched slightly downward.

“Penelope, please. Whatever it takes, don’t reject him. Don’t accept his rejection either. Fight for him.” Mason said, his mask falling away entirely as his tone took on a deeply disturbing tone of...begging. 

Carrie gasped, while Ryan and Sebastian both froze in the act of eating their dessert. 

Mason Silvius did not beg. If they hadn’t all heard it, and flanced to each other for confirmation, none of them would have believed it.

Penny cracked, her mask shattering to bits as she fought to maintain some semblance of neutrality in her voice, “Don’t you think you’re too biased to speak on the topic of rejection?”

“You’re right. I am biased.” Mason said, looking down, letting the raw sorrow he still felt at the memory of his own rejection wash over him. They could all feel it, connected as they were, powerful of a former Alpha as he was. “That’s exactly why you should listen to me. I know what it feels like. I said I didn’t regret what happened, because I could never regret choosing you, my baby girl. But...but please trust me when I say you don’t want this. The pain, it never really leaves you. The wanting. The emptiness. Even if things seem impossible, try to find a way.”

It was only when Carrie let out a long, tremulous whimper that Penelope realized that she was crying. Sebastian was too, though he tried to pretend like he wasn’t.

Penny bit her bottom lip a little, and gave a nod. She didn’t need to say it aloud; they all knew this meant she would do her best to follow her father’s, their Elder’s, guidance. Then, she turned her attention back to her dessert as Mason’s face shifted, his expressionless mask dropping back into place as if it had always been there. 

Peanut butter budino, it seemed to all of them, was the only right way to soothe the upwelling of heartache they’d just shared. They ate in silence, as the tension of the moment faded, replaced instead with a comfortable silence. Though Mason would likely never express it in words, being who he was, the Misfits could all sense in him a lightness; an easing of the burden he’d been carrying in his heart for nearly twenty years. 

For most werewolves, the packbond meant little more than showing fealty to the Alpha and the ability to mind link; the social aspects were there, but nothing more special than what you could get from living in a human community. For The Misfits, it meant more; it meant the dividing up of burdens, and the doubling of joy - it meant that a lonely old wolf’s most deeply held truth held value. Mason’s position as Elder was not just an honorary one; they had listened, and he had been heard.

It was Ryan who spoke first, a small smile turning the corner of his lips up as he said, “This is delicious, Mr. S. Thank you for sharing with us.”

The loud, insistent knocking shook Tobias from the restless sleep he’d fallen into after he finally ran out of tears. He could tell from the faint light coming in through his window that it was already past sunset. Although he was hungry, and knew that he should get up and have something to eat, he was in no mood to do so - and really in no mood to deal with the person he knew must be on the other side of the door.

“Toby?” Francesca called softly through the door. “I know you’re in there. I can smell you. What are you doing? You missed dinner.”

There was a bit of forced sweetness in her tone that told him she wanted something from him; something he was probably not going to like.