Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
S era
“I’ve never been out this way,” I tell Emery as we come to a side trail, about a half a mile away from the Nightwolf pack’s territory.
We’re traveling deeper into the rust-red mountains that surround the flat ground that makes up the Nightwolf pack’s home. Farther in the distance, snow-capped mountains are visible. Staring at them reminds me of the mountains back in Colorado.
I miss them, even though it’s barely been three days since I’ve last seen them. My heart longs to be back there with my mates, and the Blackclaw pack.
“I don’t think many people have,” Emery replies, pulling me out of my thinking. “Chance likes to bring me out to the caves out here sometimes. Since I discovered some of the secrets within them, I love coming out here to do more excavation whenever I get the chance.”
She smiles at me over her shoulder. “It must be the storyteller in me.”
I nod. Storytellers are rare among wolf shifters now, but the prominent gray streak in Emery’s hair gives it away. A fact she didn’t know until she discovered the long-hidden secret that she’s actually one of them.
One of us! my wolf corrects.
I can’t withhold my snicker. She’s a sassy thing when she wants to be. But yes, Emery is one of us since I, too, am a wolf shifter.
“Is this the cave you wanted to show me?” I ask when we come to a small clearing.
“It is. There are so many hidden gems within these caves. I could spend months out here doing nothing but excavation work and not even crack the surface.”
“Hmm,” I hum as I gaze around. “I can’t believe the secrets of my background were this close to me the whole time.”
Emery gives me a half-smile. “Secrets often reveal themselves at the exact time we need them.”
I nod in agreement, words getting caught in my throat. As long as I’ve wanted to know my true background, where I come from, I’m not entirely certain I’m ready to hear the answer.
What if my worst fears are confirmed by what Emery shows me?
She squeezes my arm.
“The truth, whatever it is, isn’t anything to be afraid of. Not with three powerful alpha mates by your side, who have made it clear they aren’t going anywhere, I’m sure.”
I crack a smile at Emery’s ability to read the hesitation that must be written on my face as well as her comment.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Here we are,” Emery says as we come to the cave opening. It’s covered by some bushes and brush. “It was a lot more hidden when I first came across it. It’s probably gone a couple of generations without many who come out this far even noticing it. Most of the pups don’t go into unknown areas.”
I nod, knowing that’s true.
I follow Emery inside and am surprised to see it’s a lot bigger than it looks from the outside. There are a few overhead holes that open up to the night sky. The brightness of the moon provides a little bit of light.
Our wolf sight allows us to see the walls of the cave clearly, however.
“This is what I wanted to show you.” Emery steps aside to reveal a wall full of cave drawings and paintings.
I gasp in surprise at the detailed images.
“Where did these come from?” I question, my eyes glued to the various images on the walls. The drawings depict diverse scenes from mating rituals and Supermoon Ceremonies to scrapes and squabbles among differing packs.
“It’s a little bit of a mystery,” she says.
I turn to face her. “A mystery?”
Emery nods. “There are other caves like this. All of them tell the stories of the Nightwolf pack over the generations. Even back before the pack settled here in New Mexico. I’m still uncovering all of it, but this is the one I wanted to show you.”
She moves deeper into the cave and points to a particular drawing.
I inhale a sharp breath before covering my mouth.
“I thought you might have that reaction.” Emery looks between me and the drawing. “You know that wolf, don’t you?”
I swallow and move closer to the wall.
“Aunt Wilma,” I whisper before pressing my fingers against the image of the gray and black wolf.
It’s beautiful except for the horrific gash in her belly with blood spilling out of it.
In another drawing, my aunt’s wolf is fighting two vicious solid gray wolves. The next image is of her wolf on the ground bleeding out, succumbing from her injuries.
“The first time I saw this image, I almost doubled over from the pain.”
I cock my head to the side and give Emery a curious look.
“Touching the images allows me to see more of the story. Not just what’s shown on the walls here, but I can feel the emotions they experienced at the time of the event.”
Emery places her hand on the cave wall directly above the image of my aunt’s wolf. She doesn’t touch it as she looks at me.
I shake my head. “This doesn’t make sense. These drawings aren’t true. My aunt died in an accident,” I tell Emery. “Sh-She was on the way back from selling her pies to some out of state bakeries when she was struck by a truck.”
According to what Alpha Chael told me, Aunt Wilma had taken a break while returning and must’ve decided to go for a run in her wolf form. It was during that run that she ran directly into the path of a Mac truck.
Shifter or not, we’re not invincible, especially if she couldn’t shift back to her human form to access her full healing capabilities.
“It was an accident …” I say again.
Emery’s face softens as she gives me an empathetic look. “I know that’s the story you and everyone was given.”
“It took us weeks to find out what happened,” I tell Emery. When Aunt Wilma hadn’t returned after a week, like normal, Beta Chance went searching for her. That’s when he found out that she died.
A small newspaper article in a local paper reported a wolf being hit and killed by a truck. It took weeks for Chance to find out that my aunt’s body had been disposed of by the state’s animal control department.
“She never got a proper burial,” I tell her with tears in my eyes.
Emery approaches me, squeezing my arm. “I don’t think that’s the truth,” she says softly.
“What do you mean?” I ask and point at the cave’s wall.
“I don’t think it was an accident,” Emery replies. “When I touched the drawings the first time, I felt her terror.”
“Of course, she was afraid of dying,” I whisper.
Emery shakes her head. “No. For you. She was frightened for you. Wilma wasn’t your aunt, Serafina.”
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“She was your mother.”
I immediately start shaking my head and backing away from the cave’s wall. “No.”
“Yes,” Emery counters. “She was your mother.”
“How is that possible? She never told … she would’ve told me. Aunt Wilma loved me like …” I trail off.
“Like a daughter,” Emery finishes in a low voice. “She cared for you like you were her own?”
I shake my head. “Why wouldn’t she tell me? Why did she let me believe that Renetta was my mother for so many years? Even after Renetta revealed that she wasn’t my real mom, Aunt Wilma, she never said anything.”
“Because she wanted to keep you safe.”
My attention shoots from Emery to the cave wall behind her. “Safe from what? Who? The wolves that killed her?”
I don’t understand anything.
“We would’ve done something. Alpha Chael would’ve protected her.”
Emery shakes her head.
“There’s still a lot I haven’t been able to uncover, but from what I know she kept her secrets to protect the pack, but most of all, to protect you.”
“From what?”
“The truth. The reality of what you really are.” Emery moves to the far wall of the cave, which I hadn’t paid attention to until now.
“What is this?” I question, staring at the drawing of two wolves standing in the middle of a blazing fire. The image takes up nearly half of the wall.
“That’s your mother and father.” She points to my aunt’s black and gray wolf, and then at the large black wolf. “This is your father.” Emery waves her hand not only over the wolf, but over the flames as well.
“This is what he was capable of. What his entire pack was capable of.”
The images of my charred paw prints come back to mind. “My father …” I mutter the words while staring at the drawings.
“Please explain.”
“Have you ever heard of the Crimson pack?”
I rack my brain for any recollection for hearing of such a pack. “No.”
“Most shifters haven’t it seems. Those who have believed they were nothing more than a myth made up long ago. A scary bedtime story to tell young pups who get out of line.”
She shakes her head.
“Truthfully, I don’t have any real proof that they existed aside from this image, the feelings and emotions I feel when I touch the drawing, and a few writings from more than three generations ago.
“But from what I’ve gathered, your aunt … no, your mother, she mated with a wolf from the Crimson pack. They were a unique pack that had a variety of strange abilities.”
“Fire,” I whisper. My wolf rises within me as if she’s been summoned.
My heart sinks.
She knows. My wolf knows the truth that my human doesn’t want to accept.
“Yes.” Emery nods. “The wolves from the Crimson pack are rumored to be stronger, faster, and sometimes more vicious than typical wolf shifters. Some could disappear or make themselves invisible, while others had witch tendencies. But more than anything, they were …” She looks over the drawing again.
“They’re wolves that can light themselves on fire from the inside out.”
My hands tighten into fists.
“The rumor goes,” Emery continues, “that the fire was a part of them. There’s a folklore that claims two wolves from the Crimson pack lit an entire pack’s town on fire just by walking through it. And the story goes, they did so just because they could.
“Those who do believe the Crimson pack were real—and again, that’s very few shifters from what I’ve found—believe the pack to be vicious, power hungry, feral wolves who would stop at nothing to destroy or get whatever they wanted. All of the folktales involving them end with the necessary demise of the Crimson pack in order to preserve all other wolf shifters.”
My eyes water in disbelief. I shake my head viciously.
“Aunt Wilma … my-my mother,” my lips tremble as I say those words, “she would’ve never mated with anyone like that. If she is my mother, he,” I point at the wall, “can’t be my father.”
“I can’t be certain, Sera, but … I’m pretty sure he is.”
“No.” I turn away from her.
“You’re a threat to everything you touch.”
Is this what Renetta meant? Did she know the truth about my birth father?
“If he’s my father, where is he? Why wasn’t he here with my mother then? Why didn’t they … Where was he?”
“I think he was either killed or went into hiding, maybe? Or?—”
“No, I would’ve heard of such a pack,” I cut her off.
“Maybe not. From the little I’ve gathered, the pack was small, and mostly stayed hidden. Likely for their own safety. Or maybe to plot against others. But, like I’ve said, no one’s heard about them for generations. However, they must still exist somewhere if he’s your father.”
“He’s not …” I trail off as my hands start trembling. I stare down at them, all of a sudden remembering that my hands alone have the power to boil water. All of the hot flashes I’ve had over the past few months. And those charred footprints left behind by my wolf.
If what Emery’s claiming is true, this explains all of those weird phenomena. But it could also mean my biggest fear is on the verge of coming true. I could have the power to destroy any and every one close to me.
“Sera,” Emery calls as if she’s been calling my name for some time.
She shakes my shoulders. “We don’t know what all of this means.” She goes to take my hands in hers, but as soon as she does she hisses and snatches them away.
I glance back down. My hands are glowing and hot. So hot that steam rises off of them.
I throw my hands behind my back as if that will hide anything.
“This can’t be true. It can’t be. I?—”
“It is.”
Emery and I turn to the mouth of the cave to come face to face with my three mates. Montgomery steps forward.
“It’s true the Crimson pack existed.” He looks from the wall to me, our eyes connecting. “And you’re one of them.”