Chapter Forty-Three
Twenty years...
“MY FATHER WAS NOT A PERFECT MAN.”
I held onto Whisper’s velvety ear as Frank’s eldest son gave the eulogy at his father’s funeral. The same glacier that’d become Rook and Lucien’s tomb two decades ago now became the home of Frank’s ashes as his entire family came to say goodbye.
His wife had died a few months before, and I had no doubt Frank died of a broken heart. He’d worked tirelessly in Snowflake Corp for the last twenty years—systematically erasing any lab work or scientific advancements that’d been done in secret in the arctic tundra.
The renewable energy that Snowflake Corp provided increased in revenue and became the largest energy provider in the world after Brimstone Industries shut down.
I’d followed the news and political excuses of why Lucien’s company failed, but nothing was ever mentioned in the media that the reactors needed Ashfall blood to operate, and...the last Ashfall was now dead.
I had no idea what happened to his assets or income.
And I didn’t care.
Lucien was gone...who cared if his company had gone too?
I doubted even he would, especially after it’d caused him nothing but pain.
“My father spent all of his life looking after us and Snowflake Corp. He worked hard but never said no to spending time with us. He made sure to be there for the important things and loved us equally. He’s leaving behind children who adore him and grandchildren who will never get the chance of having him in their corner as they get older. ”
Rundi sniffed and cleared his throat, rushing through the rest of his speech.
“To the world, he was a brilliant scientist and acting CEO of Snowflake Corp. To us...he was just Dad. So, Dad...if you’re listening...
thank you for being there. For teaching us, loving us, and giving us a legacy to be proud of.
We miss you already. Go be with Mum and be happy. ”
The rest of the funeral passed in a blur.
Frank’s ashes were scattered above the destroyed lab far below in the belly of the glacier. The ice had thickened over the last decade, hiding any sign of what lay beneath. No one knew what had happened down there or just how involved their father had been.
Once it was over, we all returned in our convoy of vehicles to the main building of Snowflake Corp. Ghosts of a younger Rook haunted me, hiding around corners and appearing out of the corner of my eye.
I spoke when spoken to and pretended to enjoy being surrounded by people, but the truth was...I itched to be back on my own.
In a way, Rook had ruined me.
I’d told her I wouldn’t be able to work for someone else after her, and I’d meant it.
Unfortunately, she’d taken my vow a little too literally and ensured I would never have to.
A few months after she’d died—and Frank had filed all the necessary paperwork (hiding her cause of death thanks to some careful fudging)—her last will and testament came into effect.
The fact that she even had a last will and testament when she’d been so fucking young absolutely butchered me. And I’d drunk myself stupid when I learned she’d paid me ten million dollars for every year I’d been in her service.
She’d ensured I would never need to work again, and...I took that gift and spent every penny of it on Whisper.
We moved out into the woods, built a no-nonsense house, and I turned my back on my own species—not because I didn’t like them, but because I couldn’t stand to fall in love with another one of them.
I’d been a bachelor most of my life and after losing Rook and seeing the pain love brought her...
I’d had enough. And besides, I had Lucien’s panther to keep me company.
That cat became my entire life.
We regularly vanished into the forest for months on end—hunting, exploring, doing our best to find ourselves in the wild. I took it upon myself to give Whisper the best kind of life after he’d been imprisoned with Lucien for so much of it.
Wherever his nose took him, we went. I didn’t care if we crossed borders or got into trouble with local governments for trespassing without official passports, where the cat went, I did too.
I supposed we turned rather feral.
We slept under the stars, bathed in icy rivers, and did whatever the hell we wanted, so coming back into society—wearing a suit instead of thick tramping gear—set my teeth on edge.
Whisper pressed harder against my legs, letting me know he felt the same way.
“Soon, buddy. We’ll get out of here as soon as—”
“Can I pet your cat?” My head shot to the left as a cute little girl in a frilly black dress pointed at Whisper with a very breakable, very tasty finger.
“Eh...” I glanced from the snack-size kid to the ginormous predator. Even after twenty years together, I still didn’t quite trust that Whisper could fight base instincts. For all I knew, Frank’s great-grandchild was firmly on the menu. “I’m not sure that would be a great idea.”
“No fair! If she’s petting the kitty, I want to as well!” A chubby little boy came darting up, his mother chasing after him in terror.
“Randal, come back here. We’ve discussed this. You are not allowed near that thing.”
That thing raised his lips a little, exposing his fangs.
“Behave.” I nudged him, struggling to hold back my smile.
In a way, I almost felt as if Whisper had adopted a lot of Lucien’s traits.
He was grumpy to most, wary of everyone, and almost aloof with power.
Yet...there were parts of Rook in him too.
The way his gleaming eyes softened on the children as a crowd formed around us.
The way his shoulders lowered as if deliberately making himself not as scary.
I swore his energy switched between the harsh stubbornness of Lucien and the trusting sweetness of Rook. It was probably all in my imagination, but after two decades of disappearing into places people rarely went, I’d had a few profound moments that proved we weren’t alone in this world.
“Oooo, he’s so fluffy!” Another little girl in a black pinafore flung her arms around Whisper’s thick neck.
“Ah, shit.” Bending down, I grabbed the child and jerked her into my arms, holding her away from sharp teeth. But Whisper merely chuffed as if laughing at a joke, then flung himself onto his back, presenting his sable belly for every squealing little ragamuffin surrounding us.
The children whooped in joy and launched themselves on him.
The almost forty-year-old panther vanished under a horde of Frank’s great-grandchildren and their parents almost died of a heart attack.
I headed to the bar, grabbed a drink, and kept watch from the shadows as Whisper became the unofficial babysitter.
He’d tell me when he was ready to go, and then we’d vanish into the night again...just the two of us.