by Juniper Hart
“It sounds to me like your mother knows more than she lets on,” Aro said, which made Quinn turn to him with a glare on her face.
“You think my mother was lying to me this whole time?”
“Humans lie,” Aro said.
“And you guys don’t?” Quinn retorted.
River was ready to step between them and keep their argument from escalating. To his relief, Aro narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t say a word.
“Could you maybe talk to your mother? Ask her about your father?” Blaze asked.
“I could try,” Quinn said dejectedly, her shoulders slumping. “My father is a sensitive topic for her—it always has been. I’ll do my best, though.”
“That’s all we need,” Jax said with a smile.
“I’ll take the first shift,” River said, and he was about to ask Blaze to take the second one when Jax spoke up.
“I’ll take the next one!” she cried. “Quinn and I can have a girls’ day!”
“Great,” River said, and he placed his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get you home before your mother calls the sheriff.”
9
Quinn walked through the door of her house and closed it behind her, leaning heavily against it. While she talked to her mother, River would scout the area around their home. Quinn didn’t know if this would work, or if her mother even knew anything worth telling River and his betas. It was their only chance of finding out more information, though. She steadied herself and headed to the living area.
She found her mother comfortably seated on the couch, a blanket covering most of her body, and saw had just finished watching a documentary.
“Hey, honey!” her mother greeted her when she saw her.
“Hey, Mom,” Quinn said, walking over to her.
“Did you have fun with River?” her mother asked.
“Always,” she answered absent-mindedly. Her tone made her mother turn back to her.
“What’s the matter? Is everything okay?”
“Can we talk?” Quinn asked before she could choke on the words.
“Of course,” her mother said, and her demeanor changed into a more serious one. “Is it about River? Did he do something to you?”
“No, no, it’s not about River,” Quinn said. “River’s great.”
“Oh,” her mother exhaled in relief. “Then what is it?”
Quinn sat down beside her mother and took a deep breath. How could she even start such a conversation? Would her mother answer her, even if she figured out exactly what to ask? Well, no matter the odds, Quinn had to try. Her life, and possibly her mother’s as well, depended on it.
“Tell me about my father.”
Her mother immediately scoffed, turning her attention back to the documentary she was watching. “What is there to say? You know exactly the kind of man he was. Either he was absent, or he was angry and abusive at home. Then he was arrested for selling drugs.”
“Why did you never go to his trial?”
“Because I didn’t need to put myself, or you, through that,” her mother answered, and she ran her fingers through her hair. Quinn could see her eyes growing redder, like she was holding back tears.
“Were you…” Quinn swallowed. “Were you scared of him?” she asked, her voice as soft as she could make it.
“I was terrified of him,” her mother said. The pain in her own voice made Quinn want to hug her, but she didn’t think it would be the best thing to do at the moment. “I didn’t want you to be anywhere near him. I didn’t want him to take advantage of you, to hurt you.”
“And that’s why we left,” Quinn mumbled.
“And that’s why we left,” her mother agreed, nodding her head.
Quinn pursed her lips, hating the fact that she was causing her mother this kind of distress. “When he was away, do you know where he went?”
“What’s with all this sudden interest?” she asked, turning to frown at Quinn.
“I think I’m old enough to want to know about…” Quinn stopped herself. Her mother would probably not like it if she kept calling him ‘her dad,’ especially after what she had just said about him. “About the man who made us move halfway across the country,” Quinn finished.
For a moment, her mother said nothing; she just kept frowning at Quinn. Then she took a deep breath, let it out in a heavy sigh, and shifted her gaze back to her documentary.
“Louisiana,” she finally said. “He’d go there often. Apparently, he had a lot of business associates in New Orleans. He’d have to go and meet with them, show them all the new members he had recruited. Or so he would say, at least.”
“New members?” Quinn asked, her eyes widening. Like new members of a pack, perhaps?
“He never spoke of his business to me, of course,” her mother continued, “but he joked one night that he wanted you to follow in his footsteps one day. There was something in the way he said it… this… this strange, evil glimmer in his eyes…” She shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand as a tear ran down her cheek. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let him drag you down with him.” Her mother uncovered her eyes and glanced down at her lap. “That was the night I called the police and had him arrested.”
Quinn gawked at her. She had never known her mother had been the reason her father had been arrested that last time, before they left Florida and moved to Wyoming. Her mom had been terrified of the man, and yet she had put Quinn’s safety and wellbeing above her fear—she had kept Quinn safe from a monster who now wanted her dead.
“Oh, Mom,” Quinn mumbled, swallowing back her tears, and she threw her arms around her mother, hugging her tightly. “I’m so sorry I brought it up, I didn’t know—”
“Well,” her mother interjected, wiping her eyes. “You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you.”
“You’re amazing,” Quinn said, pulling her mother tighter against her, wanting to convey how grateful she was for her and the actions she had taken in order to protect them both. “You’re incredible, Mom. I love you.”
Her mom softly patted her arms. “You’re… you’re not going to look for him, are you?”
“Of course not!” Quinn cried, pulling away only enough to look at her. “No, no, that’s not why I asked at all. I was just… I was thinking about River. He lost both of his parents.” She shrugged slightly. “I guess I wanted to know more about my biological father, even if it’s bad. But you just confirmed he’s not worth remembering or talking about.”
Her mother smiled and ran her fingers through Quinn’s hair. “You’re such an amazing kid.”
“Because I have an amazing mother,” Quinn replied, pulling her mom into another embrace. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too,” her mother said. “And if you want to talk some more, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks,” said Quinn, breaking away from their hug. “River is on his way over. Is that okay?”
“Of course, honey,” her mother chuckled, nodding her head.
“Thanks, Mom.” Quinn squeezed her mother’s hands and then stood up from the couch, heading upstairs to her room.
It was past midnight, and yet Quinn still lay awake in her bed, with River sitting on the ottoman at the foot of it.
“So, he was recruiting new members for the Crescents?” he asked.
“It seems that way.”
“That’s probably why he ranked up so fast,” River pointed out.
Quinn sat up on her elbows. “What do you mean?”
“The more people you recruit into a pack, the more important you are considered,” he explained.
“Is it…” She trailed off, not wanting to know the answer to her upcoming question. “Is it possible that he’s the alpha?”
“Oh, no,” River said, shaking his head, and she sighed in relief. “Your father is most likely a beta. Alphas of a pack of that size are reserved solely for the firstborn son. They like to keep it in the family.”
Quinn
lay back down, staring at the ceiling. “My father’s a werewolf,” she whispered, almost to herself. She still couldn’t believe it.
“A made one,” River added. “Not one who was born as such.”
“How do you know?” Quinn asked, frowning.
“Because if he were a wolf who was born as such,” he said, “you’d be one, too.”
Quinn let out a soft, pensive sound. She wondered what it would be like to be a werewolf, to be like River—would she like it? Or would it be something she would get used to and not think too much about, even if she hated what it entailed?
She simply hoped River would still be beside her like he was now.
“You should get some sleep,” River said in a hushed voice, probably to convince her to go to sleep.
“Will you stay?” she asked before she could think better of it. She slightly lifted her head to look at him, and to her relief, he smiled softly and nodded his head. River climbed into the bed and lay down next to her, and Quinn snuggled up against his warm chest as he wrapped his arms around her.
In the middle of a yawn, she said, “Tell me what this ‘imprinting’ thing is.”
“It’s what happens when a wolf sees his mate for the first time,” River explained. “It’s sort of like love at first sight, but not quite. It’s when our soul finds the soul that was sent here specifically for us.”
“Is it normally from both sides?”
“Not always. I know of some people who imprinted on someone who was already in a relationship—someone who was already someone else’s wife or husband. It’s not something you can control. Imprinting is like nature’s law, and that law is never to be broken,” he said.
“What if the person is not your type?” Quinn asked, sleepiness laced through her words.
“Once you imprint on them,” River said, his tone amused, “that person becomes your type. They become your entire world. For two wolves, it usually happens at the same time.”
“And you imprinted on me?” she asked, looking up at him. “Even though I’m human?”
“I did,” he answered, looking down at her with a smile.
“How does that work then? Did I imprint on you?”
“I don’t know,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you?”
Quinn smiled sleepily. “Oh, totally.”
River chuckled in amusement. Quinn looked at him and ran her fingers through his dark hair, taking in the sight of him, feeling like she was floating down a river of euphoria. She felt safe with him, more than she had ever felt in her entire life, and knowing that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her helped her close her eyes so that she could drift off into a peaceful slumber, but not before she could whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you,” she heard him murmur against her ear, and then she fell asleep.
Quinn opened her eyes and immediately noticed River’s arms were no longer around her. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. When she slid out of bed, she noticed a note on her dresser and carefully picked it up.
Dear Quinn,
Jax is nearby to take today’s shift. I’m sorry I had to go, but don’t worry, I’ll see you later.
River.
She sauntered downstairs to find her mother in the kitchen, looking rushed.
“Morning,” Quinn said.
“Morning, honey!” her mother said, hurriedly zipping her handbag. “I’m already so late—my alarm didn’t seem to go off, and I have to go, but you have a good day at school, okay?” She rushed to Quinn to give her a kiss on the cheek and then practically ran out the front door.
“Okay,” Quinn mumbled to herself, and she couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of her lips.
“Oh, good! You’re up!”
Quinn nearly jumped, and she whirled around to find Jax standing behind her. “Jesus, Jax! Warn a girl next time, will you?”
“You look terrible,” Jax said, unfazed.
“Good morning to you, too,” Quinn replied, heading to the counter to make herself a cup of coffee. “I’d offer you coffee, but you clearly don’t need it.”
“Quinn!” Jax exclaimed with faux shock, putting a hand to her chest. “Didn’t you know coffee isn’t good for dogs?”
Quinn, despite her tiredness, laughed out loud, throwing her head back. “I’m so glad you’re not as serious as the others.”
“Nah,” Jax said, waving a hand nonchalantly. “They take their jobs way too seriously for their own good.”
“I’ve noticed,” Quinn said. As she poured coffee into a mug, she turned around to look at Jax. “Can I ask you something?” At Jax’s nod, she continued. “Why does… why does Aro seem to hate me so much?”
Jax took a deep breath, her body seeming to tense. “It’s not just you, it’s… humans in general. And it’s not really my story to tell.”
Quinn nodded. She was a little disappointed, but she understood why Jax didn’t want to tell her. Besides, after this was done and over with, perhaps she could try to get along with Aro a little more, and maybe he would eventually tell her.
Jax went over to the fridge and pulled the door open. “Anyway, what’s for breakfast? I’m starving!”
Quinn gathered her books on her desk as her last class ended, and she headed out of class and down the hallway toward her truck, where Jax was probably already waiting for her. When she reached her truck, though, Jax was nowhere to be seen.
“That’s… weird,” Quinn muttered to herself. Jax was supposed to be watching her, and they were supposed to go shopping after school, so where was she?
Quinn pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed River’s number.
“Hey, Quinn,” he greeted her warmly. “Is everything okay?”
“Hey,” she said. “I’m… actually not sure. I’m outside school waiting for Jax, but she’s not here.”
River as quiet for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Let me call her to see if something’s wrong. Just stay where you are, okay?”
“All right,” Quinn said. “I guess I’ll lock myself in the truck until she gets here.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you later.”
Quinn ended the call, and she sighed as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. She unlocked the front driver’s door of her truck, but just as she was about to climb inside, a pair of strong hands grabbed her arms. Before Quinn could scream for help, a cold and wet cloth was pressed against her mouth, held tightly in place. A deep, penetrative smell, almost like nail polish remover, filled her nostrils, and though Quinn tried with all her might to break free from the grasp keeping her in place, she couldn’t.
The world spun around her, and a nauseating feeling washed over her as her consciousness slowly slipped away from her until she succumbed to the surrounding darkness.
When Quinn finally managed to groggily open her eyes, all she saw was the ceiling above her.
She sat upright as slowly as she could, the world still spinning around her. She held her head in her hands and closed her eyes, waiting for her surroundings to become less blurry. The nauseating feeling remained, but it was short-lived, and she realized that her limbs weren’t tied together. There was no pain or aching other than the grogginess throughout her body, so she probably wasn’t beaten, either. She didn’t seem to be in a dungeon, if the soft bed she was apparently lying on was any indication, though she couldn’t make out exactly where she was being held. The room was too dimly lit for her to see it clearly. All she could see was a window and a door.
Quinn stood up from the bed and walked to the window, trying to open it. It was, of course, locked, and she assumed the door would give her the same result. She looked through the window, and her eyes came across the snow on the ground and a familiar mountain in the distance, which made her think she was still in Wyoming.
Then a familiar scent wafted into her nose, and Quinn’s eyes widened as memories from her childhood that she had tried to forget and block out of her head came rushing back to her.
It was the
distinct smell of her father’s cologne.
The door creaked open, and Quinn whirled around just in time to see her father walking into the room. His eyes widened slightly in surprise when he saw her, but then he smiled at her, as if he had any right to do so.
“Quinn!” he cried, and Quinn’s blood ran cold in her veins. “You’re awake!” He held his arms open, like he was expecting her to… what, rush to him and hug him as though he hadn’t made her mother miserable?
Quinn glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest, pressing herself closer to the window and further away from him.
Her father—she should really stop thinking about him like that, he was a monster—frowned slightly at her, though the off-putting smile remained.
“Aren’t you glad to see your old man?” he asked.
“Your two guards tried to kill me!” she yelled at him, her anger boiling. “You had me abducted! And you just expect me to run into your arms like nothing ever happened? I don’t think so!”
“Granted, it was not the best execution,” he said, his arms falling to his sides, “but my intentions were noble.” Quinn scoffed. She didn’t believe him one bit. “Come on, now. Let’s go talk in my office.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she snarled. “If you want to talk, go ahead.”
Her father sighed and walked over to the bed, heavily sitting down on it. “Fine. First of all, I’d like to say that I’m sorry.”
“Your ‘sorry’ isn’t worth anything to me,” Quinn growled.
“I know you might think that I am some kind of monster,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “But I am not.”
“Then what are you?” she demanded, her hands tightening on her arms, her nails sinking into her skin.
