––––––––
What would this mean for my family? Which one of my parents carried the werewolf gene? I made a quick inventory of my many memories of Dad growing up and I could actually recall a couple of times when he fell ill. When it came to Mom, however, I couldn’t remember any. But then she had vanished when I was eight so I didn’t have as many memories of her as I did of Dad.
A light tap on the bedroom door brought me out of my reverie. I called out for Kyran to step in—since I was fairly certain it was him on the other side—and was rewarded when he opened the door. The smile on his face momentarily abated the doubts circling inside my crowded mind, and I relaxed upon noticing that his features were a lot calmer, and he seemed in a much better mood than earlier.
“Hey,” he greeted as he sauntered into the bedroom. “I felt you stir back to life and thought I’d stop by and check up on you.” He walked over to the bed and sat down next to me.
I stared at him in silence for a moment. How could I hear Simone’s thoughts earlier yet I couldn’t hear his? It was so confusing.
“I...dreamt...of the past,” I admitted. “Dorian...? He was the king’s twin brother, wasn’t he?”
Kyran took my hand in his. “Yes.”
“I saw him...” I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing to mind Dorian’s—the Lone Wolf’s—face to mind. “We share similar features.” We definitely looked like we belonged to the same family that’s for sure.
“I would expect him to,” Kyran stated. “When it comes to werewolf families they often share many physical characteristics that run from generation to generation.”
The portraits of the Rousseau family members aligning the walls of the grand hallway definitely served as testament to Kyran’s statement. Many looked so much alike they could pass for Kyran’s and Alexi’s twins—one particular woman being identical to them. It was scary how much they resembled their long since deceased family members.
I opened my eyes, turning my head slightly to the left to look up at him. “He suffered before he died.” Dorian was whipped until his back was red, oozing blood, and raw. The pain he was forced to undergo was still very fresh and vivid in my head.
“So goes the legend,” Kyran acknowledged. “He paid a hefty price in order to ensure his bloodline. I’d say it was well worth it.” He touched my cheek with the back of his free hand. His gaze locked on my face. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Was it worth it? What would Dorian say had he survived his ordeal? Would he have agreed with Kyran’s statement?
“I guess I will never know,” I murmured. In my dream, he had appeared resigned to his fate, but one cannot know for sure. He could’ve changed his mind. Or his outlook in life could have been different had he been alive today.
The past week had changed my perspective of life even more than the accident that almost cost me my life over a year ago. I guess one can say the whole incident with Santos had matured me all the way. I definitely didn’t feel like the same nineteen-year-old girl anymore.
“Marjorie.” Kyran’s features hardened a bit. “The man we spoke of earlier is here to see you.”
I was nervous about the meeting. I was afraid of what I would find out, but at the same time, knowing the whole truth was better than being kept in the dark.
“I guess there’s no reason to postpone this meeting,” I said, letting go of Kyran’s hand to shove the covers down to my knees.
“Let me help you with the leg brace.” Kyran reached for the leg brace, which he’d settled on top of the nightstand moments before stepping out of the room and helped strap it to my leg. As much of a nuisance as it was, it did help relieve my discomfort whenever I had to walk around.
Once the leg brace was in place, he carefully swung my legs over the side of the mattress to the edge. I hung onto his arms as I scooted closer to the edge of the bed, and was finally able to settle both my feet on the floor.
“Could you, maybe, get my crutches?” I let go of his arms and glanced up at him. “I’d like to rely on myself to get around. You guys do so much for me already and this just feels like yet another task.” I gestured at my knee. “I’d like to start being a little more independent.”
By way of response, Kyran leaned down, hooked his hands under my arms, and helped me to my feet. Face to face, he drew me closer still and said, “This isn’t a task. I’m taking full advantage of your inability to run away from me. Every stolen moment I can have with you is worth its weight in gold, Marjorie. You said earlier that time is the one thing we don’t have. I’d like to enjoy every second we do have...free of outside influence. Where it can be just us.”
Doubts assailed me. Was it the bonding talking? Or was it really him?
“You can’t be here for me every second either,” I tried to argue. “I have to go back home eventually. My family needs me.”
Kyran looked away, his arms instantly loosening their hold on me. “Have you thought about the fact that you might not be able to go back home?”
I gaped at him. “Why not? If the alpha is no longer a threat to my family, I don’t see why I can’t go back home.”
“What if you’re forced to leave this place? To put considerable amount of distance between those you love and yourself?”
I shook my head. “I don’t see why I would need to do that. I can’t leave my family. They need me. My father...he...” I stopped. The depth of what Kyran had said hit me. What if he was right? What if the only way out was for me to leave? I didn’t want to leave my family behind, but neither did I want to risk their lives.
“This is an option you need to think about, Marjorie. You might need to make this decision in the near future and it’s best if you prepare for it,” he said, releasing me and taking a step back. “Now let’s go downstairs.” He extended his hand.
I stared at the pale hand, and came to the conclusion that, although I had often thought about how much my life had changed, the extent of that hadn’t really hit home until now. As much as I wanted to have my old life back, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
This new me—this new life was rapidly evolving into something else. I wasn’t afraid as much as I was worried for my family. My dad especially. My mom had picked up and disappeared one day without warning. Without a goodbye note. Without a goodbye kiss. A goodbye hug. And I was worried that by disappearing, he would be devastated all over again.
It’d taken quite a few years for him to pick up the pieces after Mom left. When he finally met Vicki, I saw him smile again. Be his old self again, and I’d begun to hope their relationship would help him get back on his feet. It did. They fell in love and married all within a year. By December, Vicki and her then toddlers moved in and we became a family.
I’d been happy with the arrangements from the start. My stepmother was great, a loving wife and excellent mother not only to her girls but to me as well. I had an instant like for her the moment we met, and we had gotten along from the beginning. The girls, well, they were like an added bonus. I grew up an only child for fourteen years so having a pair of tiny ones running after me gave me something else to look forward to.
The knowledge that I might have to break ties with them really wreaked havoc on me. Knowing I couldn’t be there for my stepmother when her sister was going through such a rough time was bad enough, but the possibility of having to leave without a valid explanation as to why was completely overwhelming.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said with a frown.
Kyran took his time leading me from his bedroom on the second floor to the first floor library. Even before he opened the door and led me inside, I could make out several voices, some of which I didn’t recognize.
My hold on Kyran’s midsection intensified as one particular voice captured my attention. It was familiar, yet I couldn’t tell from where. The closer we got to our destination, the more a sense of uneasiness gripped me in its vice.
Kyran must have sensed my apprehension, because he stopped inches from the door and forced my chin up with his fingers.
“Don’t be scared. No one here is going to hurt you,” he assured me.
I wasn’t concerned about being hurt, but of what awaited me on the other side of the wooden door.
“I know,” I whispered in attempt to calm us both. “I’m okay. Really.”
Looking a bit unconvinced, Kyran opened the door to the library and helped my limping form inside. The moment we entered, everyone in the room went completely still, quieting upon our arrival.
This only made me even more nervous. What had they been talking about? Me?
I spotted several new faces as I scanned the room, but once my gaze settled on the dark skinned, tall man standing near the window to the right of Marquis’s elaborate office desk, my entire body went numb.
I froze on the spot, refusing to move farther. I was dumbfounded at the sight of this man...the same man from my dream, in the flesh, as if he’d been conjured by my mind and brought to life.
“This isn’t possible,” I murmured, unable to give my eyes credit for what they were seeing. Was he real?
He looked exactly the same as he did in my dream except his hair was longer, and he wore a suit, button down shirt, and tie as opposed to the outdated Welsh trousers, tunic, and semicircular cloak he wore back then.
Back then? Back when?
“Miss Marjorie Emery, I presume.” Even his voice sounded the same. His accent was less noticeable though. That led me to believe many years had passed since that scene in my dream took place.
Seeing him...it served to confirm that he wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. I wanted to argue that he wasn’t real, but I wasn’t dreaming. The pain in my knee reminded me that I was wide-awake.
“Bayard,” I said, eliciting a series of gasps from those present. Even Kyran, who normally kept his cool, stiffened next to me.
“You know who he is?” Kyran asked to my right.
“I have dreamt of him many times,” I admitted. Turning my attention back to the man a few feet away, I said, “You...you betrayed the king. You helped hide Dorian’s baby, taking him to faraway lands.”
Bayard stepped forward and bowed respectfully, as if he felt inclined to or was following the usual protocol.
“Indeed I did.” His brown eyes settled on me as he straightened up. “I see you remember that well.”
“But...,” I swallowed. “...how can I?”
“That is something you will come to understand soon enough.” He pauses but a moment before adding, “We have spent many years looking for you.”
“We?” I asked in awed stupor.
Bayard stepped aside and I noticed for the first time the face of a stranger who looked oddly familiar even though it was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on him. His sandy hair was cut short, but in his hazel eyes, I could see remembrance. And I found myself aware of him as my next of kin even when I didn’t even know his name.
Some strange sense of recognition took hold of me. I knew without actually knowing that this man and I were more than passing acquaintances. It was weird how I came to that conclusion without us exchanging a single word, but it was as if blood called out to me.
“You’re a ValKhazar.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded as if I’d asked anyway.
“So are you,” he said, forcing my grip on Kyran’s to tighten. “Or at least I am here to prove you are. I am certain as to our parentage. I can feel it as well as you can, but I am under the impression you require more confirmation.”
Uncertainty took hold of me. How did he know what I could feel? He’d said he could sense our parentage. I didn’t know him. I had no reason to trust him, but even as I tried debating whether I should take him seriously or not, I couldn’t argue with how I felt.
The connection was very real.
It wasn’t like when I met Kyran. The intensity behind our initial meeting had held an appeal unlike any I’d ever experienced before. This was different. It was as enigmatic, didn’t make me feel as if I wasn’t in control of my body, but intrigued me just the same.
Looking around the room, I paid close attention to the other strange faces of those present, intrigued. Who were they? Why were they here?
As if reading my thoughts, Kyran pointed to an individual sitting on a chair opposite my newfound family member and said, “This is Dario Babineaux and Esteban Morera, two of the best cleanup specialists out in the field. Their work consists of erasing all and any evidence that will expose us to the human world.”
The green-eyed stranger winked at me.
“It is nice to finally meet you.” The man called, Dario, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We really have heard magnificent things about you. Kyran, she is bella donna.”
I leaned into Kyran. “Hi,” I whispered.
“Mucho gusto.” The black-haired, brown-eyed Esteban dipped his head slightly.
I was barely able to acknowledge him when Kyran moved on, pointing to a tall, long-haired Asian man.
“These are upper level Trackers from the royal family. Bayard you know. Imai, James, Ismael, Cian, Liam, and Edgar.”
Royal family? Is that who this man was? A member of the royal family? What parentage did he have with the people of my dream?
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Bray ValKhazar,” he replied. “Although in this day and age I go by the name Bray Colton. You may call me cousin if you wish.”
I wasn’t ready to call him family let alone cousin.
Unconsciously, my fingers dug deeper into Kyran’s arm. This was promising to be a once-in-a lifetime experience.
“You need to sit.”
I hadn’t noticed my fingers were digging into his arm until he pried them apart and took my hand in his.
“Okay,” I said, not tearing my gaze from the man alleging to be my next of kin.
Kyran led me to the couch at the other side of Marquis’s office and helped me sit.
“Family blood ties have been established,” Bray broke the silence in the room. “I think we should cross that off the list.”
I spared a glance at Simone and found that not only was she staring at me, but so were Marquis, Alexis, Josephine, Gage, and the other strangers. I still didn’t know what their role was or why were they present.
Bayard picked up a small duffel bag lying on an empty chair in front of Marquis’s desk and brought it over to Bray. He then took a seat to Bray’s right.
“You may or may not know that our family, the ValKhazar’s, was among the oldest and most powerful of their time.” Bray reached for the duffel bag and zipped it open. “They are credited for starting the Order. Do you know what the Order is?” he asked, pausing for long enough to look at me.
“Those in charge of keeping order within the packs?” I asked.
“Among other things,” he said. “You see, my grandfather was an obsessive dictator. The Order was his way of keeping potential competitors in constant fear by way of intimidation. Not only was Lykos powerful but his tyranny was notorious for forgiving not a single thing. As king, he had many ways of doing things. Among his choices was to protect our family history by any means necessary. He had secrets he wanted to hide, especially from many enemies who could use any of them as a potential weapon against him.”
Bray reached inside the duffel bag and removed a large, leather bound book that appeared to be older than time itself, and rested it gently on his lap.
“I do not know if you have ever heard this before, but we, werewolves, are creatures of habit. It is also very important for us to keep records of our family histories. In these records, we instruct the next generation, teach them, and prepare them for the years ahead by keeping them informed. The Historians are in charge of this long and arduous process. They are chosen due to their ability of remembering faces, exact dates, from hours to the last minute in which an event happened and who and how many were involved.”
Bray caressed the book’s cover with his right hand. On his middle finger, I could make out a copper ring with a capital V engraved in the center.
“Our family history was logged in this book from Lyko’s parents, the original king and queen, down to my time. Now, we had history beyond that point, of course, but somewhere along the years, the books containing this information disappeared. You,”—He pointed at me—“are not logged in our family history. Before our Historian,”—He spared a glance in Bayard’s direction, their gazes meeting briefly before he turned back to me—“can add you, there is one test you have to pass.”
My gaze fell on the book.
It was large for a book. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many pages were crammed in between the front and back covers. It was held shut by an elaborate, bronzed, rectangular metal-looking lock to the right of the front cover, the center of which had a capital V engraved as part of the design.
As far as I could tell, the lock seemed to open up horizontally. The book was similar to the one the Rousseaus had, but the lock gave it such an out-of-place feel to it that even I found odd. It looked more like something you’d find in a steampunk shop or something.
Without a doubt the book was old, but so bizarre too.
“What do I have to do?” Even in my apprehension, I was highly intrigued. Deep down, I wanted to know what the book hid and if I was, in fact, related to Bray and the ValKhazars.
“Open this book,” he replied.
“That’s it?” I puckered my brow, my eyes narrowed as I stared at the huge book on his lap. “That’s not so complicated.” I had the feeling maybe I’d spoken too soon. When it came to werewolves, nothing was easy. “Where’s the key?”
Bray straightened his back a bit and said, “You are the key.”
“I’m sorry?” I stiffened, unable to fight off the reaction. “I don’t understand.”
“Only true blood members can open the ValKhazar history book. The lock was especially designed by Lykos himself so that it would give way only by a few drops of blood of direct family members.” He offered me the book. “Take it.”
I stared at the hardback, dreading coming in contact with it. This was a crucial moment for all of us, but I was instantly edgy and nearly squirming in my seat.
Curious I was. Fearful too. Would this crucial moment in time change my life?
“Take it,” Bray tried again. “We have to prove your identity.”
I took the book, turned it around so that the end of the V pointed toward my stomach and released some air. The tips of my fingers tingled as I touched the leather and I wasn’t sure why. It might have been just nerves. Or my imagination running wild on me.
I’d heard before nervousness has a way of affecting one’s mind. I was on the edge of my seat already so it could be possible.
“Now what?” I glanced up to look at Bray.
“Lay your right hand on the letter, with your palm facing down, and wait.”
Wait? That sounded surprisingly unnerving for some reason.
I did as he told me to, wondering how long I had to wait or how the lock would be activated, but even as my mind began to wander, something beneath the palm of my hand moved slightly and then, within a blink of an eye, a sharp, needle-thin object was inserted into the middle of my palm.
The suddenness of the intrusion caught me completely off guard and I jumped, snapping my hand back. Pain shot through my wrist all the way up my arm to my shoulder, forcing me to wince. I inspected the area affected and found a barely visible hole there. One tiny speck of blood served as testimony to what had just occurred.
“That hurt,” I complained.
I glanced down, startled by the pain. By the unexpectedness and the speed with which it all happened. It was so quick, over within a second but did the process have to be that painful?
I studied the book’s lock more closely and found that in between the legs that formed the upside down arrow shape of the letter V was a pin and on it, I could see drops of my blood. Before I could think to ask what the purpose of the needle was, the drops of blood were absorbed into it seconds before it folded back into its place between the letter’s spread-eagled legs.
A moment later, the sound of clicking wheels, like those on a grandfather clock but miniscule in comparison, filled the room. I watched in awe as the rectangular lock split apart, opening like a cabinet, down the middle and horizontally.
“Oh, wow.” I gaped at the now open book, finding it incredibly hard to come up with something coherent to say. I was literally stunned into silence.
“Welcome to the family,” Bray said, confirming what I was having trouble absorbing in spite of the evidence right in front of me.
“Marjorie.” Kyran’s fingers caressed the side of my face, but I could neither feel nor hear him. I was too shocked by what had happened to notice his attempt at getting my attention.
Instinctively, I covered the area in my palm where the needle had entered with my thumb, willing it to stop bleeding. My mind, however, was completely numb. I had no idea what this all meant exactly. So Bray and I were related?
“I can see you are having a difficult time processing the news,” Bray commented. “I wish we had the time to allow you the proper adjustments, but under the circumstances, we are under pressure to reveal not only who you are and where you come from, but the history of our lineage. It will benefit you greatly to know.”
He was talking. I was aware of that, but I wasn’t paying attention. Right then there was only one thing on my mind. Who passed down the genes that made me into this...this...person? Creature? Thing? I didn’t know which.
I looked up at Bray. “Who is it? My father? Or was it my mother?”
“Marjorie.” Kyran laid a hand on my arm. “This is something better left for another time. You have already taken in so much today.”
It was the apprehension I detected in his voice that got to me. Kyran knew which of my parents was the immortal one—a direct descendant of the ValKhazar’s.
I shook my head in both anger and frustration. “No more hiding truths. No more dragging along these secrets. I want to know—I need to know. Everything.”
“This might be a little difficult to bear.” Bray’s gaze met mine. “But I agree that it will better for you to know the truth.”
“Who is it?” I asked more forcefully.
“Your mother, Elsa.”
An indescribable feeling spread through my chest like agony, only this was full of unsuppressed emotions. This wasn’t physical pain. This was the kind of discomfort that usually accompanied one after the death of a loved one, or something to that extent. Only now, I realized my pain was due to many determining factors.
My mother disappeared over ten years ago. She up and vanished without so much as a goodbye kiss or note. The fact that she could just abandon her only child always bothered me. It filled me with hate and resentment. It made me feel unimportant. As if I’d done something to deserve to be left behind.
Though my feelings hadn’t changed, now I wondered why she’d left in the first place.
“Elsa? Are we even talking about the same person?” I couldn’t bring myself to look at Bray—or anyone else for that matter so I opted for staring at the unlatched lock.
“I’m afraid so. Elsa and you have an uncanny resemblance. That I cannot deny. If it will put your mind at ease, however, you may want to look at the painted portrait of her toward the back of the book.”
Bray gestured to the book on my lap and for a very, very brief second I thought about going in search of the portrait he mentioned, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t bring myself to move. My fingers clutched the book’s cover for about a minute before I relented, shoving it aside as I scrambled to my feet.
“I...need...to...” I took off, limping out of the room and into the foyer. My heart thumped inside my chest so quickly that for a moment there, I thought everyone else could hear it. Well, they probably could hear it. They had super sensitive hearing after all.
“Marjorie.” Kyran stepped in quickly behind me, drawing me near him by snaking one arm around my waist. “You’re upset.”
I tried pushing away. Being that I was still hurt by the Rousseaus’ lies, I urgently needed some space, not only from them, but also from the entire world. But Kyran’s hands drew me nearer as he embraced me and all of a sudden, that much-needed space was no longer a priority.
“This...is... too... much,” I stammered. My mother? The immortal descendant of a family of powerful werewolves? “How much of this did you know?”
He led me away into the kitchen without saying a word.
Once I was comfortably sitting on one of the dining chairs, he turned to me and said, “I found out about your mother yesterday. Bray told me.”
“Tell me something.” I turned my head to the left to look at Kyran. “Do you believe him? I mean, this is out there. I’m very, very confused right now. I feel like...” I glanced away, averting my gaze to the hand bearing the proof of what had just happened in the other room. “I’m stupefied.”
“In all honesty, I knew this was going to be difficult for you. But I failed to realize just how much exactly.”
There was sympathy in his voice and frankly, that was the last thing I wanted or needed. I had every right to be angry, to mope if I so decided, but his presence seemed to calm me down, and I had a relatively good idea of why that was.
In order to force myself to analyze everything I’d discovered about my family, the Rousseaus, and myself, I needed to put some definite distance between us. The bonding—it made things even more confusing for me. I wasn’t even given the benefit of being angry, and I didn’t like the fact that something as...human...was taken away from me.
“None of this is your fault, Kyran.” Unable to meet his gaze, I stared at my hand, hating that I needed to do this, but at the same time understanding that if I didn’t I’d never know the true answer to the many questions in my head. “But I really think some distance would do us both good.”
I didn’t have to look up at him to know my words had affected him deeply. He was close enough for me to hear the quick intake of breath.
“My life has changed. I realize nothing will ever be the same—even if the alpha wasn’t a threat. I have a family who would never understand that I am different. There are many tough choices I have to make and I need to be clear-headed to do them.” Just the thought of parting ways was already playing havoc on my body. On my senses. The rapid beating of my heart, the itchy palms, the inexplicable shaking of my legs...it was as if my body was suffering from withdrawal.
“What’s really on your mind? There’s something bothering you, isn’t there?”
I hated how he could read right through me. I couldn’t hide anything from him. Feeling as if I’ve been put on the spot, I slip my hands inside my sweatshirt’s pockets to keep him from noticing them shaking.
“I’m in doubt, not only about my future and how to fully protect my family, but us too.”
“Us?” Kyran took to his feet suddenly, effectively putting some distance between us as he sauntered across the room to the windows that overlooked the garage.
My gaze roamed all over his broad back, already picking up on the tension in his shoulders.
“When I first met you...I thought our coming together might be fate. After I found out you were a werewolf, well, I might have had doubts about us, but evidently, no amount of doubts could keep me away. But now...I feel like—”
“What brought us together wasn’t fate? That what you feel for me isn’t real but just the effects of bonding? ”
“Yes.” I hadn’t realized I’d been fisting my hands in my sweatshirt until the miniscule injury in the middle of my palm began to throb. “I’m perfectly aware of what bonding means for you guys, but if I’m going to possibly spend the rest of my life with someone, I need to be absolutely sure love is the most important factor in the relationship.”
Had I been exclusively human, I wouldn’t have questioned my feelings as much, but now that I was aware of an uncommon bloodline behind my birth, one which could hold keys to doors I wasn’t sure I wanted to open, I needed to question everything, including our strange relationship.
“Your family will only be put more at risk if you decide to go back home.”
The only indication that he was even mildly upset over the course of our conversation was in the form of his stiff posture. Nothing else gave his discomfort away. I couldn’t see his face since he’d presented me with his back, and his voice was calm so I wasn’t sure what to think.
“I know.”
“Then what will you do?” he asked.
The answer wasn’t clear so all I could say was, “I’m not sure yet.”
I had no clue as to where to go or how to protect my family from harm while keeping myself safe, but one thing was very clear to me: I couldn’t continue to rely on the Rousseaus anymore. They’d done enough and although I was grateful, I couldn’t continue to impose. My reality was one that wouldn’t change. No matter how much I wanted to go back to my old life, I needed to learn how to handle my own problems.
Even as all this began to sink in, it was still painful to realize I wouldn’t be seeing Kyran or the rest of the family for a while. Perhaps never again.
“Do you understand where I’m coming from?” I hoped that he would at least turn to look at me, but he was too busy staring off into the distance.
“I understand,” he replied, his voice almost robotic. Unfeeling.
“Do you? Your silence isn’t exactly calming my nerves.”
Kyran ran one hand over his chestnut hair. “This isn’t easy for me either. The selfish wolf in me doesn’t want to let you leave, but the more human side understands your need for space. I promised you I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, and I intend to keep that promise. I just didn’t expect for that time to come so soon.”
“There are many things I need to figure out. I feel like imposing on your family won’t help me. That’s what I want you to understand. I can’t help but feel as if I’m a nuisance. Even though it has never been my intention, I’ve managed to become the Rousseaus’ burden. Your family shouldn’t be taking on a responsibility that is not theirs. They have their own lives to lead.”
Kyran leaned his left shoulder against the glass window, shifting slightly so that I could see the side of his face. “If you had known from the beginning what brought us here, would you still have made the same decision?”
I thought it over a bit and realized the depth of my insecurities. A lot of them centered on my so-called bonding with Kyran. Falling in love was one thing, but developing an emotional connection with someone just because of an invisible force far beyond our control was completely different.
“Yes. I don’t want to hurt you, Kyran, but I need to know what really brought us together. I wouldn’t be able to live in peace not knowing. Always wondering if I do love you or if the bonding was the only thing responsible for tying us together. I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering if you really love me. That’s no way to live.”
He was silent for so long I didn’t know what to make of his quietness. After a moment he broke the silence in the room by saying, “If you do decide to come back, I’ll be right here.”
I expected more of a protest from Kyran, but the lack of opposition didn’t exactly put me off. It showed that he, too, was willing to do whatever was needed to help me on my quest. It also gave me hope that his interest in me wasn’t solely based on what I could do for him.
“I’ll head on upstairs. I’m feeling a little tired.” I got up and walked out of the room without another word, trying my best to muster the bravado needed not to react to the feeling of having my heart broken into a million pieces.
It wasn’t easy. By walking out of that room, I felt as if I were walking out of Kyran’s life too. But at the same time, if I didn’t turn away, my mind and heart would always be clouded with doubts. And maybe the wrong judgments.
As I reentered the foyer, leaving the bright hallway behind me as I transitioned from one room to the next, I came face-to-face with Bray. Seeing him standing there, as if he had been waiting for me all along, brought on even more uncertainty.
Bayard, the Rousseaus, and the other werewolves who I couldn’t identify by name yet were nowhere to be seen and this only heightened my suspicion that Bray had been hoping to get me alone.
“May I have a word with you?” In his hands was the book, which he clutched to his chest as he stood, waiting for a response. “In private, please.”
I glanced behind me to the hall only to find it empty. Kyran had not followed me out.
“I guess so,” I murmured, turning my attention to Bray.
Bray led me outside to a pearl white Escalade parked just a few feet from the Rousseaus’ black Audi, before coming to a stop. The large SUV looked so out of place. Every expensive car looked out of a place in a town with less than a thousand residents. Most people living in or around Wolf Creek Hollow were farmers, my family included. Their vehicles of choice were usually pickup trucks, minivans, and small, four-door cars that could fit up to six people.
People who resembled Bray, with his large hazel eyes, ruggedly handsome features, and expensive suits was not something you’d see every day around here. He stuck out like a sore thumb. So did the Rousseaus, which is one of the reasons I noticed them right away.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” I asked as I limped next to him.
Bray offered me the book again, but this time he appeared a little unsure, either of himself, or whether or not I would accept what he offered, it wasn’t clear to me.
“You should probably begin to get acquainted with the family history. Your mother was an active part of our family’s fight to maintain our legacies, and it was thanks to her that our old enemies were defeated.”
I gaped at the book as if it held the power to singe my hands right off.
“I don’t mean to be a complete ungrateful brat here, but...I’m not sure I even believe all this. Werewolves are real. I know this because I’ve seen them—the Rousseaus.” I pointed to the lock. “This doesn’t prove anything to me. How do I know it wasn’t rigged?”
The corners of Bray’s mouth curved up into an understanding smile. “It’s that cautious behavior that will aid your transition. Right now, everything is new. You don’t know who to trust, but there is always a way to prove or disprove something.”
While I could sense a connection between us, I didn’t know him. I couldn’t bring myself to trust that easily anymore. Not when my very life depended on it.
“Unless you can prove to me my mother is your cousin, I really don’t—”
An image invaded my mind—that of a blonde haired young woman, smiling as she stared at...Bray. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she observed each one of the man’s facial expressions. She found the look of concentration on his face very amusing for some reason I couldn’t understand.
“Oh, cousin.” She shook her head, shifting slightly to her right to accommodate the multiple layers of contrasting fabrics that made up her long and very intricate dress, a peek of the petticoats underneath showing as she crossed her legs in a very unladylike fashion. “You are such a martyr. What bad can come of a little ball? The past hundred years have been extremely boring. We have done nothing but engage in battles over territory and scare away the enemy. When are we going to take some time to enjoy something other than a victorious battle?”
Bray, who had been sitting to her right, busy eying the contents of a scroll flattened against a wooden table, showed no signs of having heard her at all. His concentration centered on the scroll in front of him, the four corners of which were being held down by four identical seals used as paperweights to keep it from rolling back up into a cylinder.
Each seal was engraved with a capital V in the center. V for ValKhazar. The family name. Though I could sense Bray wasn’t proud of carrying on the family name, he had no choice but to do so with an air of dignity and respect. The name commanded reverence. Everyone knew who the ValKhazar’s were.
“Elsa, our current situation does not allow for celebrations of any sort. Besides...” He straightened, leaning back against the chair as he added, “There is no agreeable company for us to invite, unless you take the McGreevy into consideration.” He glanced in her direction, his brow furrowing slightly as he smirked. “And, for the life of me, I cannot say who I dislike the most. Them or you,” he said.
There was a hint of amusement in his tone, a sparkle of laughter in his eyes. It was easy for me to see that he teased Elsa often. Their relationship was a close one. That much was easy to read.
Mom—or Elsa, tipped her head back, tossing a lock of wavy, sandy hair over her left shoulder and said, “Be that way. In five hundred years you will be nothing but an old grouch if you continue to live such a boring, inconsequential existence.”
“Then I guess you will be there to remind me, five hundred years from now, how much of a grouch I was, and still am.”
The scene dissipated just as quickly as it appeared, leaving me feeling bereft. I hadn’t seen my mother in years, but I could still recall what she looked like. The women in Bray’s mind was my mom. There was no doubt about it.