Sometimes, no matter what you do in life, you’re in the wrong.

Even when you try your best, even when you think what you’re doing is right, you’re still the one everyone gets mad at.

The world has its standards and if you don’t meet them, then that’s on you.

I never seemed to meet them.

“You can’t keep doing this, Nikola,” Dad groans while he paces in front of me. “It’s wrong. You know it’s wrong and yet you do it anyway!”

It’s not wrong to want to be with your linker – is what I want to say, but it’s not what I say.

Instead, I reply in the way I’m supposed to in situations like these, “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t a lie. I was sorry, to an extent.

I was sorry for upsetting my parents.

I was sorry for causing them trouble.

But I was not sorry for my actions.

I wasn’t, because no matter what everyone said – my parents included, I knew that if they had to watch the person they were meant to be with, flirt with other people, they would react in ′overly possessive manners’as well.

It was just how we were, werewolves and witches.

It might be different for other species, maybe a little tamer, but where our species were concerned, if you wanted your other half, then you wouldn’t be able to resist the bond.

“You say that, but you’ll do it again,” my dad accuses with a pointed glare.

I would. Not that I could help it very much. But he wouldn’t understand that.

Nobody seemed to understand that where Hagen was concerned, my brain’s logical functions fizzled out.

It wasn’t just the expected nerves of being around your linker or intended mate, it was the desperate need to make him like me, like he used to. Added to that, there was that neverending anxiety to stop him from loving anyone else.

But I was ten years old, and most considered a body’s ageing before a mind’s, so nobody really listened to me.

I was used to it.

Dad’s dark brown boots stop directly in front of me, putting an end to his taunting pacing and locking us all within the sharp silence that lingers for a moment.

When he sighs, my fingers turn white as I grip my knees.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, meaning it a little more this time.

I didn’t enjoy making my parents upset, I doubted any child who loved their parents as much as I did was capable of such a thing. I actually hated doing anything that caused them problems or made them sad.

They were good to me, so why would I be bad to them. That would be impractical.

I hadn’t intended for this to happen, and it wouldn’t have, if Levi hadn’t opened his mouth. He was the one who’s talked to Ma and told her of all the ways I’d been ‘troubling’ his little brother recently.

I blamed him for this. I actually wanted to hate him for it too, but I didn’t hate people – it took too much energy and time. But I could strongly dislike him, that wasn’t so hard, so that’s what I did.

“I know you are,” Dad finally says, sounding tired and confused.

It’s difficult, hearing him talk like that and knowing I’m the cause of it.

“But you’re still angry with me,” I comment as I risk a glance upwards for the first time.

I expected raging grey eyes, a fixed frown and clear disappointment, but I don’t find any of that, only that abundant love that was always there.

“We’re not mad at you,” Ma says as she steps forward for the first time, coming closer so she was standing beside dad, “we just wish…that we could help you more.”

Dad is quick to nod as looks at me, “If anything, we’re angry with ourselves.”

That was worse.

I was well aware of how lucky I was with the parents I’d gotten. Where most would’ve probably baulked at all the neverending problems that came with raising a hybrid, they’d jumped right in, doing all they could to ensure that I was happy and supported, every single day.

To make them feel like they weren’t doing enough, when they already did too much, was worse than disappointing them.

“I tried,” I whisper as I lower my gaze, feeling shame seize my insides, “I tried not to do anything, to stay calm, but he doesn’t listen.”

Hagen never listened.

Ma laughs gently as she lowers herself to my level and tips my chin up, “That’s because he’s a growing teenager and you’re a child who’s trying to control him. That’s not a good equation, Nikola.”

I tighten my lips for a moment to stop myself from saying anything against that or comment about her horrible use of a metaphor.

“You may not act like it, and you may hate it, but you’re still a child, Nik.”

I knew I was a child, it was the only thing I didn’t like about myself.

“He’s my linker,” I state because that was a fact.

“That doesn’t mean you can force him to like you,” Dad replies as he folds his arms.

I frown. I didn’t want to force him to like me, I wanted him to stop hurting me.

“He says he’s not,” I argue as I look between them, “but we all know that witches know at any age. I know. He’s my linker and he’ll be my mate, he shouldn’t like other people.”

“Mate or not, linker or not. If Hagen doesn’t choose you Nikola, then that is his choice to make,” Ma explains as carefully as she can, but it still hurts.

I clench my fingers together tighter, trying to keep my lip from wobbling but it’s hard with the way my heart starts falling apart inside of me.

“Hey, now,” Dad says as he seats himself beside me on the couch and pulls me to him. His warmth wraps around me like a blanket as he hugs me tightly, rubbing my back with his wide palms, “What your mother was trying to say, is that you can’t force anything until you’re old enough to actually claim a mate, a partner, you have to leave Hagen alone. And even then, what Hagen decides will be up to him.”

“Even if he’s made for me?” I ask, hating the words even as I said them.

“Even if he’s made for you,” he confirms.

My shoulders slump and my magic sparks a little under my skin in protest. The thought of having to watch Hagen be with another made me feel sick, it made my brain try to fizzle out again, but it also made me sad.

It hurt like nothing else, nothing I could describe in words.

“I know it’s hard, knowing he’s your linker and not being able to do a thing about it,” Ma says as she strokes my knuckles gently, “but that’s just the shitty life you’ve been dealt. I got one, and now you got one too.”

I try to bite back my smile, but it slips out anyway.

“So, you did this to me?”

Ma laughs as she cocks her head, “I guess so.”

“Witches, nothing but trouble,” Dad sighs as he shakes his head above me.

I grin with a small laugh while Ma glares up at dad, “As if werewolves are any better.”

“I think being both is best,” I comment which makes our family line glow a little brighter.

Refocusing her attention on me, Ma offers me another smile, “You’ve got eight more years before you can do anything about Hagen being yours. So until then, be patient, give him space, and try to control yourself, and it’ll get better with time.”

That was what everyone always said.

Be patient, give him space and he’ll come to you, but no one understood that Hagen didn’t do well with space.

When Hagen had space, he self-sabotaged, and when he had space from me, he sabotaged us.

This time, it was a crush, next time it might be a date or a girlfriend, and I didn’t think I could ‘control myself’ if Hagen got a girlfriend.

That was a lie, I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

It wasn’t as if I didn’t understand why Hagen didn’t want me right now.

I was five years younger than him after all, plus I wasn’t the best at sharing him, and I could be… a lot sometimes, but I only lost control when he pushed me.

Hagen was always pushing me.

I didn’t know when things changed.

I still remembered how close we used to be when we were younger, smaller.

I remembered how we’d spend all our time together and how Hagen loved being my favourite person.

Then one day, Hagen started pushing me away. He didn’t like it when I called him my future mate anymore, didn’t find it ‘cute’ anymore – though I never enjoyed being called ‘cute’ – and insisted that he’d never be my anything.

I didn’t understand what I did then, and I still didn’t understand it now, which was infuriating.

But I knew everything else about Hagen.

I knew that his favourite food was pizza, the American kind – yuk, and his favourite colour was dark purple.

I knew that he couldn’t sleep without his twin, Josey, nearby and I knew that he hated pickles, a lot.

I knew that he loved watching TV and he sucked at math.

That he was afraid of spiders, especially the tiny ones with long, thin legs.

And that his favourite game was hide and seek, but he didn’t tell anyone because he thought he was too old for it.

I knew a lot of things about Hagen, but most importantly, I knew that Hagen tried so hard to be good.

People didn’t see it, but Hagen always tried his hardest to make people smile, to make them feel comfortable and important, even when he was falling apart on the inside.

I saw Hagen, all of him, even the parts he tried to hide, and that scared him.

I scared him. But there wasn’t anything I could do about that.

It was irrational for him to be afraid of me, I would never hurt him, only keep him.

Keep him safe, keep him happy, keep him all for me.

I just had to wait and then, he’d be all mine.

I could be patient, I had a lot of it.

It was one of the things I loved most about myself.

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I have a very unhealthy love for Nikola. Very, very unhealthy!

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