Seven Months After The Gathering
Dear Dawn,
I hope you can read this. Franklin says my handwriting is illegible because I’m dyslexic.
I could use the computer, but the Alpha won’t let me in his office after the last time. I hacked the DMV and got Franklin and me fake IDs, but it wasn’t hurting anyone, right? Vance is nearly old enough to go to clubs, and who’ll watch his back if we can’t go?
We really want you to be happy. We’ll protect you—me and Talbot and Vance too. He likes to pretend he doesn’t remember you, but I know he does. He asks all the time if we’ve heard from you.
The old Alpha is talking about retiring, which is good for Vance, but I can tell he’s stressed. He needs a good Omega to calm his beast, but not because you’re some kind of punching bag. Seriously, I want to junk punch your Alpha so hard that he’ll taste his own dick cheese.
Vance was made to be Alpha, and he’ll be a good one, and he’ll also have some clout.
Despite what Franklin said about a nerd not making a good beta, I have the skills our pack will need in the future to protect ourselves in the age of technology. A fist won’t protect us from a smartphone capturing our shift, will it?
Plus, if you come to Black Mountain, you won’t have to marry some gross old fuck who your Alpha basically sold you off to.
Please, PLEASE think about it. You’ll be happy here.
There are hundreds of miles for you to roam as your wolf, and the only neighbors we have are a bunch of lions, but they keep to themselves, mainly because they know we could kick their asses.
And do you know it snows here? How much would your wolf love the snow?
Think about what I said.
Love,
Talbot xoxoxo