Logan Chapter 43

-Emory-

I have firmly retreated into my mind. I have nothing to say to Logan until I decide whether or not I want to acknowledge this ‘fated mate’ stuff. On the one hand, I’m a grown ass woman and he can’t tell me what to do. On the other hand, though, I keep thinking back to how much better I felt in his presence, human body or not. I didn’t feel like I could get out of bed again until I let Logan-the-wolf into my apartment. I was tired and achy and depressed. My bite wound- Logan called it a mating mark- even felt less itchy and healed up better after time spent with him. Aaron’s hands on me felt wrong and left me cold. It’s like his touch caused TV static under my skin. All that taken into account, I might physically need Logan in order to live, no matter how much of an asshole he is.

I’m torn on him actually being an asshole at this point, anyway. I wouldn’t have told anyone a secret this big right off, either. Just seeing the subdued panic in the actions of someone as tightly controlled as James had my stomach dipping in fear, and I’m not even part of the population affected. All I can really fault him for is marking me in a very permanent way without letting me know so that I could properly consent, and then spilling the beans in the least believable way. His timing is awful, and he’s shitty at communication, but he’s not a bad man.

I want to hate him for the pain and angst he caused me, but it wasn’t intentional. It sounds like his wolf has taken a lot more control of him during our relationship than he was used to contending with. I know his wolf half, at least, would never hurt me. After a month of being in close quarters with the dramatic, loveable beast, I like to think I know his heart inside and out. He has a bit of disdain for the human ways of doing things, but he wants to make me feel loved and protected above all else. He just didn’t know the way to go about that and couldn’t fight against the mating instinct, apparently. I suppose we’re both victims of ‘the stars’ in this.

I’m slowly, silently, softening toward Logan as he scrambles to project calm assurance and save an entire race of people from a witch hunt. I’m sitting in a plush chair in the opposite corner of his office as he meets with public relations advisors and his guy friends. They seem to take turns advising him. The first PR meeting was about the fact that I was in the office of my own free will and had clearly not been abused. Once they had wrangled a semi-coherent statement out of me that the rougher aspects of our sex were consensual, I became free to mind my own business while Logan lies his ass off about the children ‘pretending to’ turn into werewolves in his backyard. They’re working hard to craft statements that refute the accusations in Cora’s article without sounding too defensive. The main strategy they’re muttering about now is pursuing a libel suit, which I did warn Cora about. That’s the last of my loyalty to her, and it’s better than she deserves.

I tune back into the conversations around me just in time to hear them settle on a libel suit against Cora and me pressing charges for misrepresenting me in the press as well as illegally using pictures of my obviously naked body. I would have been heartbroken to press charges against Cora if not for those damned pictures. She ruined my professional reputation and strained my relationships with my family in one deft move. Looking back on our college years with her most recent actions in mind, I’m starting to see why my mom never liked Cora. She was never truly my friend, and I allowed her to isolate me from everyone who could have been my support system in this horrific moment.

I can’t decide how I feel about her blowing up all of my romantic relationships in light of this ‘fated mate’ business, though. Would Logan and I have ever found each other if she hadn’t? Would I have been married? Did Cora actually save me from heartache now with the heartache she caused back then? I suppose it’s a lot more obvious for the men- boys, really- whose lives she was busy ruining behind my back. They had no redeeming end to that story, unless I would have actually married one of them.

All of the what if thoughts in my head are just mental procrastination at this point, though. I must have subconsciously decided to actually forgive Logan in all my musings, because I can’t see any other way out of the discomfort and angst of this last month. I’ll have to introduce him to my family before we actually do anything permanent. Well, anything else permanent. That will have to come after we deal with this debacle, though. I don’t know if I can face my mama with the pictures of my body fresh on her mind. Besides, just because I’ve decided to forgive Logan, doesn’t mean I’ve decided to tell him so. Even if his actions are almost understandable- if you really squint at them, I mean- he still deserves to do a lot of groveling. I’m fantasizing ways to make that happen when he and the PR team turn to me again.