River & Her Royal Mate novel Chapter 2

The cold sweats and dread of the graduation ceremony felt like a dream compared to the sinking leaden weight that dropped from River’s chest. The floor opened up a chasm beneath her.

Oh, God. This wasn’t real.

She had been looking forward to this day for months. She had also been chewing her nails, breaking off split ends, and pacing a rut in her bedroom carpet over it.

Out of every possible fuck-up she could have imagined, this was beyond anything that had crossed her mind. Clay chose someone else.

In front of the entire pack.

And it was Victoria bane-of-her-existence Pullman.

Years of compounded embarrassment piled up into a flood of choking shame.

Where every eye should have been on the stage, hundreds of gazes veered back on River. Victoria glared triumphantly down from the stage right at her.

Clay’s were the only eyes avoiding hers in the auditorium.

Everyone knew what was supposed to happen.

Everyone hoped it wouldn’t.

At least that’s what the voice in her head kept shouting.

River noticed the rush of blood in her ears dying down as the first whisper registered, followed by a snicker, then a loud comment. The mockery was met with covered mouths and laughter.

“Of course an Alpha wouldn’t pick her.”

“It’s for the best.”

“Bad blood, bad brood.”

Idiot! Why would he pick you? Her own thoughts lashed out inside, bitter and sneering.

The bond had been wrong.

But the piercing stab of grief and actual, physical pain that lanced through her guts revealed the truth. Something had been fractured, no, shattered inside of her. She wanted to scream.

That, and RUN.

And she did.

River burst through the doors and into the fading dusk.

Cool night breeze barely registered against her feverish skin. Somewhere behind her she thought she caught the sound of her Aunt Klara shouting after her.

She ran until she stumbled, one of her flats tearing on the side. Catching herself, River noted her surroundings and saw that she had made it past her street, to the edge of the woods along Dreamer’s Trail.

Her lungs felt raw. Her feet hurt.

Slumping down onto a stump, she finally let the tears come. Silent sobs wracked her body, her hands wrapped around her arms for comfort.

A crunch on the gravel path announced Klara before she spoke.

“Heya, Rapid.” There was an unusual hesitation in Klara’s crisp tone.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt K.” It was all she could get out.

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong. Except maybe running all the way across town…” The wariness returned.

“W-what do you mean?”

Klara frowned and ignored her question.

“C'mon, sweetie. Grandma’s worried. Get in the car.”

The thin but sturdy woman helped River to her feet and guided her down the trail to the small lot. The drive home only took a couple of minutes.

River’s thoughts began to regroup as they pulled into the dimly lit driveway of the old blue and tan house. Inside, Grandma Lucy bustled about, getting her seated and fussing over the scrapes in her bare foot.

The older woman looked truly distraught, more than River ever remembered seeing her.

“Let me make you some tea, Rivvy.” Grandma's hands were shaking.

"I’m fine, Grandma. Why don’t you go lay down. I’m sorry,” River muttered thickly. Grandma Lucy patted her hand and shuffled out of the room.

“You had Lucy worried to death, Riv.” Klara’s words were quiet, but cutting.

“I know.”

“You know better! You know what happened to your daddy. How he just went off.” Klara was trying to keep the reprimand out of her voice.

“But I would never-”

“Of course you wouldn’t, but Grandma’s poor heart assumed the worst. She can’t help but worry about you.”

“Oh, no, no. You’re right. I feel terrible.”

For so many reasons. Way to go River.

“You have every right to be upset. What that boy did is not right.” The snap came back to Klara’s voice.

“He’s a piece of shit!” River snarled, louder than she meant. “I can’t face him again, Klara. I can’t go to college in the fall and see him.”

Klara flinched slightly at the outburst. She recovered and continued talking, “River, it’s a big campus. You probably won’t even see him.”

“I can’t do it. I’m a…a coward!” Tears burned at the edges of her eyes. “I’m weak. Just like my mom.”

Klara cut across the kitchen so fast that River slumped back into the plush couch. The angular woman’s features seemed to cut into sharper edges as she loomed over her raising one finger.

“You. Are. Not. And neither was your mother. Audrie was the strongest female I’ve ever known next to your Grandma. I never want to hear you say that again.”

“Fine. But I still feel weak.”

A look of incredulity washed over Klara's face.

“Weak, huh? I wouldn’t call anyone who sprinted four miles across town in ten minutes weak.”

She must have been exaggerating.

The next few nights, River struggled to sleep, and when she did, her dreams were filled with anxiety and vague scenarios of terrible embarrassment. Sometimes, she was back in the auditorium.

Other times she was up on a stage, the crowd full of Clays and Victoria’s, all laughing at her. By the end of the week, she was feeling run down and exhausted.

“River. It’s been a week. You haven’t left the house.” Grandma's gentle tone broke the mid-morning quiet.

Usually there was music playing in the house from the large collection of classic records her grandfather collected but River hadn’t felt like putting anything on lately.

River glared down at her soggy cereal.