If I’d been in my human form, I would have laughed at the notion that a fit of self pity was all that was required to break through my inability to change forms. But with the wolf brain and my human side merged into one mind and body, we were instead enveloped by a calm that I hadn’t felt in years. We were able to think clearly for the first time in weeks, without any confusing human emotions to weigh us down.
To celebrate, my wolf and I decided to run together, releasing the last of the angstful emotions that had been churning through our belly. But as we rose into a crouch, we felt paper rather than sheets crinkling beneath our paws, and my human brain jolted back to the forefront.
Looking down, my nose knew what had happened before my eyes could focus on the torn envelope. My dead sister’s scent wafted up from the disinterred sheet of paper, and the wolf and I breathed deeply, knowing that this decade-old aroma would dissipate before long. Despite ourselves, we whined, missing Brooke’s soft lap and gentle hands. She’d sat right here beside us so many times, brushing the tangles out of our wayward hair and braiding it back into a simple plait, or comforting us when we’d clashed with our father over some rule we considered stupid and he considered gospel. Her scent on the paper seemed to bring long-forgotten pieces of my sister back to life in my mind.
“I’m sorry he’s so hard on you,” Brooke had told my human form once, not long before she left home. It had always seemed unfair that my sister could float through her days beneath my father’s radar while I was the harridan who seemed in constant need of reprimands, but I didn’t resent my older sister so much as I hated my father for the unwanted attention. “You know it’s only because the two of you are so much alike, right?” Brooke continued gently, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.
“I’m nothing like him!” I retorted, stiffening in horror at the notion that the Chief and I shared anything other than 50% of our DNA. Even before our mother died, I hadn’t wanted to grow up to be like my father, who never had a kind word for any of his children and who believed in an eye for an eye justice.
“You’re just like him,” Brooke disagreed quietly, which got my dander up further. But my sister was always the fence-mender in our family, so I knew she wasn’t being nasty for the sake of getting my goat. “You’re strong and smart and caring....”
“Caring?!” the younger me interjected. “Father doesn’t care about us at all. Don’t you think that if he did, he’d let you apply to colleges like you want?”
Brooke smiled sadly at me, pulling my stiff shoulders into her body until I softened against her curves. “He does care about us, Terra,” she replied. “But he cares about the good of the pack even more.”
THE FINAL HINT OF SANDALWOOD and tomato leaves drifted away even as the memory dissipated, and I knew that Brooke had finally faded from the earth. Actually, that wasn’t true. Her letter was still here, along with the words she’d wanted me to have when I was sixteen and she was dying. Whether or not my father was using Brooke’s letter as a means of manipulating me seemed academic now—my sister had been the one who wrote the words, and Brooke always had my best interests at heart. So I tilted my wolf face so I could squint down at the paper and I began to read.
Unfortunately, I could barely make out my older sister’s greeting, and could parse that much only because I knew Brooke would begin her letter “Dearest Terra.” Something about my wolf eyes or my wolf brain made the rest of the missive dissolve into squiggles, and despite waiting for weeks to open the envelope, now that my wolf had done that deed for me, I was desperate to know what Brooke had to say, the sooner the better. But since my shift to wolf form had been involuntary, I wasn’t so sure I could regain my human skin so easily.
I sent the question toward my canine half, and her reply came back quickly. We’ll run later, she conceded, and I almost felt like the sentence was a promised future treat for both of us rather than a deal that I was making with an unwanted darker half. The wolf and I would run later, and I trusted my wolf not to tear into any more toddlers in the process, and to let go of our body when I needed to return.
Now in harmony, we shifted forms in a millisecond, too quickly for me to even feel my snout retracting into my face and the fur sinking into my skin. With human eyes, the night made it too dark to read, so I fumbled for a minute until my hand found the bedside lamp and I could illuminate Brooke’s letter. Then, clutching the paper in my lap, I read my sister’s final words to me.
Dearest Terra,
I’m sorry I won’t get to see you grow into the strong young woman I already know you’ll be. And I’m sorry I never got to see your shining face after I left Haven. I don’t regret the life I’ve built for myself here, but I do regret leaving you alone, the way Father made me promise to do.
I had to break Father’s rules this final time, though, just in case what happened to me happens to you. I told Dale that the doctors diagnosed me with cancer so advanced there was no point in trying chemo, but I was lying, just like I lied to my kind husband about all of my runs in the woods. I hope you’ll find a way to help Keith when the time comes since neither he nor his father will understand my son’s first change. I’ve kept the wolf away from my human family.
But I digress. I’m dying, sweet Terra, because my wolf is eating me up from the inside out. I used to see signs of this in Father sometimes, when he’d gone too long without shifting, but I thought that was just his bloodling nature shining through. I was wrong. Father and I have something in our blood that makes our wolves fight against our human bodies. You probably have it too, but I hope you’re smart and strong enough to find a way to make it work, like Father does. Cricket told me that you’re learning to partner with your wolf in a manner I never would have dreamed possible, so maybe you’ll be able to avoid the curse even if you hold your wolf in. I can’t seem to do the same—I’ve never been as strong as you.
I could let my wolf out to run, but I’m too afraid. I know you’ll think that giving up like this is no better than suicide, but I can’t go back to Haven and my wolf can’t be set loose here. So I’m holding her in, even though she’s gnawing on my bones. It hurts so much. I don’t think I’ll last long.
Once I’m gone, I hope you’ll remember me fondly. I thought of you every day, sweet Terra, even though I have a little boy to keep me busy now, and a husband I don’t begin to deserve. I sent you my love every night before I fell asleep, and I like to believe I’ll be able to love you even after I close my eyes for the last time.
Stay strong, smart, and caring like our father, Terra. But follow your own dreams.
Love from your sister,
Brooke
I could barely make out Brooke’s signature through the tears that were once again streaming down my cheeks, but I was surprised enough at what followed to halt the waterworks. Beneath Brooke’s final line, someone else had scrawled an addendum, and I had to lift the paper to my nose and ask for my wolf’s help before I realized who had authored the postscript. Cricket’s mousy scent of bleach and applesauce rose up from the page, stronger than my sister’s decade-old aroma, but carrying fewer memories. My stepmother’s words were definitely enough to pull me back into the present, though, despite lacking as much emotional impact.
Terra,
Your sister was wise. Your father has been fighting his wolf for years, but lately, I think he’s losing the battle. I see the wolf through his eyes even when we’re alone.
The pack is afraid, and so am I. Please come home. We need you.
There was no fond closing, just a hurried dash and then “Cricket” in the same spiky scrawl as the rest of the postscript. I could imagine my stepmother finishing her note and hurrying to reseal the envelope before my father returned to his office, the usually obedient woman slipping the letter into the back of Brooke’s file to be carried to me. I shivered, imagining what might have happened if the Chief had caught his wife in the act, especially if Father’s wolf was as out of control as Cricket made it seem.
&nbs
p; But he hadn’t caught her, and I had come home. And now, at least, I knew what was wrong with Haven.
Chapter 19
“Are you serious?” I asked the next evening when I came down for dinner.
The Chief had remained absent for most of the day, and I considered taking the opportunity to debrief Cricket. But, really, my stepmother’s note and Brooke’s letter said it all. Plus, the people of Haven who I saw scurrying around whenever I went outdoors backed up my hypothesis—my father was disintegrating and his pack was falling into shambles around him. There wasn’t much I could do until the Chief showed back up, so I waited as patiently as I could until he was ready to put in an appearance.
I hadn’t decided what I was going to do about Haven and my father yet, but that larger issue flew out of my mind when I walked into the dining room and saw my father and Cricket waiting for me at the table...along with the saddest set of suitors I’d ever seen. Okay, yes, my girl cousins were right—the potential mates my father had picked out for me were handsome enough. And the men sitting at our table were mostly the right age, although one was old enough to be my father and another looked like he might still be coming to terms with adulthood. But ever since my wolf and I had made up, we’d been sharing the same mind-space, and her senses told me that none of the four were even as alpha as Brooke had been. My older sister had enjoyed many good attributes, but she was not an alpha werewolf, and strong leadership is what Haven needed if it was going to pull itself back together. What was my father thinking?
As if to confirm my analysis, all four suitors bowed their heads at my tone of voice, and despite my concern over the situation, their reaction almost made me laugh. That was certainly a first in Haven—male werewolves submitting to a woman. Or maybe they just wanted to say grace?
The humor fled, though, when my wolf and I took in my father’s canine counterpart. This was the first time in a decade that I’d seen Father while my wolf was wide awake, and she growled deep in her throat at the sight. The Chief’s wolf looked rabid under his skin, twitching and baring its teeth, clearly begging to be let loose. For the first time in years, I felt real respect for my father, who was able to keep such a dominant wolf under control, even though the two sides of his personality seemed to be butting heads rather than working together.
And now that I knew where to look, I could see the strain produced by that internal battle. My father’s face was lined, his jaw clenched, and the piercing eyes that I’d once thought could force me to do anything now seemed almost weak. Crazy Wilder was fighting the wolf...and losing. I spent a second wondering if this was how Brooke had looked during her final days, then I forced myself to focus on the more pressing problem right in front of me.
My father allowed the silence that followed my words to extend out until it was becoming painful, then he finally broke eye contact with me. If it hadn’t been such a crazy concept, I would have almost thought the alpha was deflecting his gaze the way a submissive wolf might after trying to stare down the pack leader, but that idea was too ludicrous to hold onto. Instead, my father merely turned to scrutinize my four suitors, then quietly dismissed them from our presence. “You can go now, boys,” he said abruptly, and as one, the male werewolves got to their feet, put their napkins on the table, and filed out the door.
Well, that was...unexpected. “I wasn’t reneging on our deal...”I started, but the Chief talked right over me, any hint of submission long forgotten.
“I see you’re finally ready to take on the job I’ve been grooming you for,” my father intoned. But I didn’t get to learn what job Father was referring to because a formidable knock on the front door stopped our conversation in its tracks.
“Right on time,” the Chief said, taking a sip of water before leisurely rising from the table and leading our little family down the hall. His wolf looked quieter than it had a few minutes before, and the canine now seemed amused, as if we were all on stage, acting out a drama that the Chief had written. I wanted to hold onto that clue, but my breath caught in my throat and all other thoughts fled as the door was flung open and a non-Haven werewolf walked in. My knight in shining armor had arrived.
“RUDE” DIDN’T EVEN BEGIN to describe the act of one pack leader barging into another’s home uninvited. In fact, Wolfie’s behavior was tantamount to an act of war, but I couldn’t avoid the silly grin that spread itself across my face when my favorite wolf stepped over the threshold. My canine half and I could smell his scent—like leaf mold and pine needles—and I realized we were leaning forward as if the young alpha was a huge magnet and our combined wolf and human brains were a pile of iron filings. If the stakes hadn’t been so high and my father hadn’t been present, I don’t think anything could have stopped me from falling into Wolfie’s arms.
And I was now sure that his wolf side, at least, would have caught me as I fell, quite gladly. The younger alpha’s face was grim, but with my new wolf sense, I could see his canine half dancing in circles behind his eyes, as excited as I was to be back together. All at once, the last ache in my stomach faded away as I realized that Wolfie really had known I was acting, as Quetzalli’s presence had suggested, even though I’d been loathe to believe a bloodling could be so poker-faced. Wolfie hadn’t taken my words to heart or held them against me, and he was here now to back me up and to help solve the problem with my father.
As we stood in silence, I could almost feel our canine halves communing without words. What took you so long?, my wolf was saying, and his wolf was laughing at our impatience. As impetuous as a human, he was probably teasing.
The man was a little less sure of himself than the wolf, though. Ignoring Chief Wilder, Wolfie cocked his head and asked me, “Which one did you pick?” It took me a minute to realize the younger alpha was asking about the suitors, then my wolf and I huffed our amusement out through our nose. I couldn’t believe it—Wolfie was jealous.
“Is that why you’re here?” I answered, trying to get Wolfie back on track. Surely, hopefully, he had some kind of plan, not just a possessive urge to come and take me home before I could marry another man. Not that I minded a bit of alpha behavior in this context, but there were larger issues at play.
The young pack leader shook his head, not in negation, but as if trying to force water out of his ears, and I saw the wolf rise up behind his eyes to take command of the conversation. Wolfie’s voice sounded the same, but his energy was more focused when he spoke again. “No, I’m here because your nephew, and your grandson,” he said, turning to face my father at last, “has gone missing. Keith wasn’t pleased when Quetzalli came home without you yesterday, and we now know he hitchhiked all the way to Haven after he found out Terra wasn’t coming back.”
To Haven? Soppy romantic notions were pushed to the back burner as I parsed Wolfie’s words. I was positive I would have known if Keith was kicking around the village, which meant the boy hadn’t arrived. But where could he get sidetracked between the highway and our cluster of houses? Nowhere—unless Keith’s first shift came upon him unaware, in which case the teen werewolf could be running around the woods four-footed and confused.
“And you want permission to go hunt for the boy in my woods,” the Chief said, his words coldly amused as the pack leader’s wolf peered through my father’s eyes to focus on the younger alpha. If Wolfie had the bad sense to request permission, it was obvious the answer would be no, so I figured I’d better derail this standoff before it could go any further.
“Can I speak with you for a moment, Wolfie?” I asked. Ignoring my father, I continued: “Alone.”
EVEN THOUGH I HAD LEFT my childhood behind years ago, I couldn’t help feeling a frisson of forbidden pleasure when Wolfie followed me up the stairs and into my loft. The male werewolf was almost too big for the space, his head bowing down so it didn’t graze the ceiling as he moved to the center of the room—the one spot where he could stand erect. Despite the awkwardness of the low ceiling, though, I could see the tension ease from Wolfie’s shoul
ders at this brief reprieve from the Chief’s presence, and my wolf and I felt the same way. As we came into the room behind him, we immediately rushed to Wolfie’s side and let the young alpha enfold us in his arms, then we pulled his head down to join us in a hungry kiss.
I would have liked to submerge myself in our shared passion forever, but I knew my father’s patience was very limited, so I pulled back far enough that we could speak, although I didn’t try to wriggle out of Wolfie’s arms. “You forgave me,” I said, smiling up into my mate’s sparkling eyes.
“So I am man enough for you,” he rumbled in reply, the words ironic because the wolf had the upper hand as the alpha spoke.
“Definitely,” I answered, then I had to rein in my own wolf who thought now might be a good time to run our hand down Wolfie’s firm jaw. Focus, I reminded her, and I felt my canine half settle. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long,” I continued. “At first I just wanted to protect you, but the longer I stayed here, the more I realized Haven was falling apart. I didn’t want to leave them in the lurch.”
“The pack needs a new alpha,” Wolfie said, having understood a situation in two heartbeats that had taken me several days to untangle. “Your father’s wolf is eating him alive.”
“And we need to find Keith,” I added. “That part’s true, right? My nephew is missing? Has he changed forms?”
“We were waiting for you,” the young alpha responded, and his words warmed me from head to toe. Not only had Wolfie believed I really would be coming back, he’d continued to abide by my wishes that I be the one to help Keith learn to shift. Unfortunately, that seemed to have been a poor decision on my part given my nephew’s rash behavior.
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