"What's the problem with Joel, Nina?" Alethia asked gently.
She was afraid, she realized. She was afraid of what Alethia would think about her if she knew that Joel didn’t want her.
But Alethia didn’t look like she was ready to judge. She looked kind and compassionate, ready to listen, wanting to help. Nina wondered, suddenly, what it would be like to have a close girlfriend. Someone who could make that face when a man hurt her, who would be on her side. Someone she could talk to.
"We're mates," she blurted out.
Alethia's eyebrows shot up. "Really?” She frowned. “Are you okay with that?”
Nina nodded vigorously, started to tear up despite herself. "Yes! I thought since I'm his mate, maybe I could stick around, but he doesn't want a mate. He ran off this morning, and I'm pretty sure he wants me—gone." She swallowed a sob, but it got caught in her throat.
"Oh, honey." Alethia came forward and, without any hesitation, folded Nina up in her arms.
Nina froze stiff at first. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a hug like this, to comfort her when she was sad. Not since before she left home. Years and years.
Alethia's arms were warm, and she smelled like some delicately lovely perfume, and she felt soft and welcoming. Nina couldn't help herself: she melted into the embrace. Tears choked her.
She’d been right. Alethia wasn’t disgusted, she wasn’t judging Nina. She was helping, in a way that Nina hadn’t even realized she wanted.
Alethia made soft shushing noises while Nina sobbed and sniffled and struggled to get herself under control. It took a while.
Finally, she caught her breath and pulled away. "Sorry for that," she mumbled, not meeting Alethia's eyes.
"It's not a problem," Alethia said softly. "Can I ask you something?"
Nina nodded, wiping her eyes. "What?"
"If you're Joel's mate, why did you think we were going to chase you away?"
"He doesn't want a mate," Nina repeated. "I thought maybe he just—wanted me gone."
"So you thought that he called up all of his packmates to come chase you off, while he hid in the woods like a coward?" Alethia asked, with an edge to her voice. "Has he done something like that before?"
Nina shook her head immediately. "No! He's been—nice, and sweet, and just really wonderful. We spent all last night together, and we ran in the mountains, and we talked, and we—" Maybe best not to mention that last part out loud.
"Did the sort of things mates do, yes, I understand," Alethia said dryly. "All right. If he was so nice and sweet to you, why were you so afraid of what he'd do?"
Nina bit her lip. "It's happened before. Not the mate thing, but people trying to chase me off. I didn't want to stick around and let it happen again, not after—" Not after everything they'd shared together, in such a short time.
Alethia’s eyes were gentle. “Who tried to chase you off?”
Nina closed her eyes. “Everyone, really. Even back when I, I had to leave my parents’ house, because I’m adopted.”
And then suddenly, before she knew it, the whole sordid, awful story came pouring out. Nina had never told anyone before last night. Telling Joel had felt like a meeting of minds and hearts, an intimate sharing of something secret with someone she trusted.
Telling Alethia, on the other hand, felt like setting herself free. Like she was taking the secret, this awful secret that had gotten deeper and heavier the longer she carried it around, and letting it just...fly away into the air.
Alethia listened quietly as Nina talked, not interrupting at all. Her face held such a deep compassion that it made Nina want to start to cry again.
Finally, she finished up with, “So then I thought that I might as well give up, and accept that I was going to be alone. So I came here.”
Alethia let out a long breath. “That’s quite a story.”
Nina shrugged. It was hers.
Alethia pressed her lips together, thinking. Finally she said, “Okay. Can I offer you some advice?"
"Please." Nina knew she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care. If there was one thing she needed in this world, it was some sort of guidance in how to navigate it. She'd definitely never managed to do it successfully on her own.