Chapter 34
My lungs tighten within my chest, refusing to take a full breath.
It’s too much. I didn’t think about it at the time.
I only wanted to save my mate and get back at them for Pratt.
I should’ve stopped with Tripp. The taste of phantom blood comes to my mouth, and I run for the office door next to me.
I reach the small garbage can tucked underneath the desk and hurl.
Gross. Killing was never part of the plan. I love to heal, to make things better.
My hip finds the floor beside the chair. I reach out and grip the desk to keep from tipping all the way over, and a bottom drawer slides out on the left side I adjust again, waiting for the nausea in my stomach to stop.
Noises float into the room from the open door.
“I swear it was bigger than Stark,” someone says.
“I bet it could take on all the Elders at once,” came a wicked taunt.
Those types of comments will not help.
I stay down behind the desk. If Stark wants to find me, I’m sure he will.
For now, though, all I can envision is the white of his fist, the veins pulsing in his arms. Did he figure it out?
Does he feel the sensations when we touch?
I don’t think he’d hurt me, but what if he changes his mind?
If magical healing doesn’t intimidate him, me being a werewolf who shouldn’t exist could.
I’d never be able to hurt him. If he wants to kill me, it’ll be my fate.
I push up onto my feet, and a white envelope sits on top of a stack of papers in the open drawer. STARK LAMONT is written on top. My hand stops the drawer from closing all the way. That handwriting.
I pull out the drawer and reach for the envelope. It’s light, and my fingers run over Pratt’s block letters. I slide my hand in and pull the papers out. Two pages, each folded up in three.
My hands shake as I realize Pratt left these for Stark. When?
I unfold the first and sit back down on the ground against the large window. I take a deep breath before beginning to read.
Alpha Stark Lamont,
If this has come across your desk, then I assume you have learned my fate.
I’m not sure if you remember it, but we had a conversation many years ago while scoping out smaller human tracks.
Another pack member made a joke about my sister Alo, saying I hid her for embarrassment and that she should leave the pack, and you didn’t say a word.
Later that day, you told me you thought she was brave for staying. Braver than anyone you’ve ever met.
This decision doesn’t come lightly. Alo isn’t just brave, she’s more than any of us could ever be. So, with this, I ask that you take her in and protect her. Keep her from pushing her limits.
One day, I hope she will build enough trust in you to show her true self.
I’ll owe you when you get here,
Pratt Tutten
My arms and chest ache as a sob breaks free. I reread the letter over and over. Pratt knew one day I’d have to tell someone.
I flip over the second paper to find a small list.
A Guide to Alo
- She loves to be alone. Don’t take it personally.
- Rose-scented everything for products.
- She just needs somewhere to read. She hates how oversized everything is.
- She won’t listen to you if she makes her mind up. I apologize for her in advance, saying sorry isn’t really her thing.
Good luck,
Pratt
I laugh. It’s the perfect list. Pratt knew nearly everything about me. I hug the letters tight to my chest.
Footsteps break my trance, and I look up to find Jocko standing at the edge of the desk.
“He finally gave them to you. I’m so glad.”
“You knew about the letters?”
“I’m insulted. He’s my best friend. Of course, I know about the letters he got making this random girl he never met move into his home.
” The words don’t match the massive smile on his face.
“I heard he finally announced you’re mates.
I have to say, I’m hurt I wasn’t told first.” He leans down, face scrunched. “What’s wrong? I can smell the puke.”
“I’m good. It’s just that I didn’t know he wrote any more letters.” And they want to hunt me. I open it up and read the words again. He lowers next to me, and I lean against his shoulder.
“The guy went all-out making a space for you and now you’re mated. I thought he was one of those werewolves who would be alone forever.”
I rub my wet eyes and adjust my cap. “Why would you say that?”
“No one else is going to put up with his Starkness, and he’s never seemed interested in getting to know anyone. Nikki tried . . . hard.”
I eye him. “His house is full of people.”
“That’s different. You’ll find out one day.”
I tilt my head back to his shoulder and close my eyes. Pratt’s words run through my mind. Show her true self. When is trust enough? I didn’t have to show myself to Pratt and Mom.
The door slams, and I jolt awake. My back straightens against the bookshelf, heart pounding. Beside me, Jocko startles, and we both scramble to our feet.
“Something you two want to tell me?” Stark’s voice drops, and I roll my eyes.
I go to grab the letters on the ground, but Stark’s hand beats me to it. Then he turns and pins Jocko to the bookshelf by his neck.
“Hey.” I get up and shove Stark with no success.
He growls at his best friend. “You had no right to give her these.”
“Wait.” Jocko looks over at me, pulling on Stark’s arm.
“He didn’t. I found them.”
Stark tosses Jocko over to the side. “Get the fuck out.”
Fucking Starkness. I giggle when the door closes.
“Why are you laughing?” Stark heaves, but the anger in his eyes disappears.
“I’m not.” I cover my face and try to stop.
“Want to tell me why you’re snooping through my desk?”
“Technically, you told me anything that’s yours is mine.” I poke him in the chest with my finger.
“Fine. But I’d rather not find you cuddling my best friend.”
“Stark.” I grab his free hand and lift it to my waist. “We weren’t cuddling. He came in when I was reading them, and I was crying. He sat down beside me, and I closed my eyes. I didn’t realize we fell asleep until you came in.”
That muscular hand flexes against my shirt. “Why were you crying?”
“I read the letters.”
He places the them down on the desk behind him and pulls me in to his arms. “I wanted to show you them, when I knew you trusted me.”
“I told you I do.” I tuck into his abs as his fingers trail through the ends of my hair.
“Red, when you stop looking at me like I might change my mind and hurt you, I’ll know you trust me.”
“I want to,” I whisper.
“I know.”
I push back. “You don’t trust me sitting in a room with your best friend.”
“No, Red, that’s not about trust. No one gets to touch my mate. You’ll learn.” He grabs my hips again and pulls me up tight against him.
“No hugs?”
“I can hug you.” He wraps his arms around my back.
“Handshakes?”
He grunts. “Short ones.”
“What about . . .”
His lips hit mine before I can come up with a response.