“She’s beautiful,” she commented, feeling awkward. And there she was, thinking she was his girlfriend or something.
“Yeah, she was.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s okay,” he smiled. “We all knew she was sick. My parents wanted to get her cured. But she preferred not to get any treatments.” His voice was plain, and she couldn’t sense any remorse from it.
“Why?” She didn’t want to pry. But she was curious why would someone at a very young age abandon the hope of living a longer life?
“Because she said she had enough time to see how wonderful the world is. She died at twenty in her room, quietly.”
He smiled.
Allison bit her bottom lip. She didn’t know what to say.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Frowning, she looked at him. “Can you hear my thoughts as well?” She knew Brandon had more than excellent senses. But the only thing that’s bothering her was the way he was able to read her thoughts.
“No,” he laughed. “It’s all written in your face, Alli.”
She flinched. There he was again, calling her by her nickname. His voice sounded like a song with an upbeat tune, making her heart skip a beat.
“You should rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Brandon tilted his head to the doors behind the couch he was sitting on. “The left is yours. And this one,” he paused, pointing at the door on the right, “is mine.”
She fell quiet for a moment.
“I’m still trying to understand why you got a two-bedroom apartment,” she joked as naughty ideas swarmed her mind.
Brandon wiggled his brows as if knowing what she was thinking. “In case you’re curious, we always do it in my room. Yours used to be my library.”
Allison was surprised when she felt an invisible hand gripping her heart. She forgot how to breathe for a moment because of the pain and jealousy that devoured her. Why was she feeling that way? She averted her gaze and brushed off the weird emotion that was growing inside her.
“Perfect,” she mumbled, trying to sound completely glad. She didn’t know if she was relieved.
What the hell, Allison? What is the meaning of this?
But she knew she needed to focus on her father first. She needed answers. And, before that, she needed rest.
“Goodnight, then,” she said, before turning the knob. Brandon watched her as if there was something he wanted to say. She waited. But he remained silent, giving her no choice but shut the door.
Leaning against the door, Allison took her time to study the bedroom, decorated using a purple palette. It was elegant, and was designed exactly to her preference. There was a nice bathroom on the left side. The room wasn’t as big as her room in the Wakerlin mansion, but it was nice and warm – better than the cabin in the forest.
Thoughts of her father flooded her mind as she washed herself. And what bothered her most was the absence of sorrow in her system.
She was shocked, yes, but she felt no remorse whatsoever. And she didn’t like that. She didn’t like the idea of not being able to feel anything for her father’s death.
Is he really dead?she wondered.
“No, he can’t die.” She missed her father, and it was getting difficult for her to stay away from him. She fell asleep recollecting her memories with her father.
∞∞∞
A few more days had passed, but there were no clues or signs of her father’s whereabouts. She had not lost hope, and she refused to believe that her father was dead.
“I made you porridge. Eat.” Brandon watched Allison curling up like a ball under the purple sheets. He was babysitting a twenty-three-year-old. She had developed a fever two days back and was still recovering. He had not been eating properly. She was not speaking to him as she wanted him to look for her father.
Looking after Allison as she grew over the years, Brandon felt like it was his responsibility to keep her safe and alive. Though the Alpha was not around anymore, he had sworn to himself that he’d continue protecting his only daughter, especially from Borris. He just couldn’t let her get in trouble. He couldn’t let her die. She was innocent.
