“Laylah Goings, age forty-nine, lives with her husband, Pierre, in a ridiculously expensive home in the Garden District.”
“I see,” I reply, not wanting to tell Jonas everything Violet is going through.
“Now, the real question is why do you have me looking up someone who is clearly using a fake identity? Her birth certificate is clearly forged. I can’t find any schooling information. She seemed to just pop into existence around thirty years ago.” I give him a glance and he clicks his tongue. “Figured as much. I’ve been talking with some elder members of the pack about what happened all those years ago.”
“What did they have to say?”
“You already know your mother was exiled before that. Rumor is your father is human,” Jonas says gently and I just shrug with indifference.
It truly doesn’t matter if I am partially human or not, though I don’t believe it. How does a man who is half-human wind up being an Alpha?
Jonas nods, like he knows what I’m thinking. “It’s likely rumors. If there’s one thing this pack loves, it appears to be gossip.”
“What else did you find out?”
“That’s the thing. Everything about the year you and Violet were born is a blur. We know the pack leader and his son left, but no one knows where they went. Everything seems to go to shit from there.”
“Violet hasn’t been able to get much from her coven, either.”
“She’s her mother?” Jonas says, and looks at me suspiciously. “I feel like there’s something else you’re hiding from me, Si. I thought, as your second, we would be well beyond secrets.”
He’s right, and as the only person I trust in the world, I tell him everything. The court house, the night fourteen years ago, sneaking off to Violet’s house every night and a few details of our trip this weekend.
As soon as I’m done, he leans back in his chair and whistles.
“She doesn’t know she’s your mate, does she?”
“No, it doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Jonas laughs and shakes his head, standing up and closing his laptop. “You’re a great number of things, Silas. But you’re not this naïve. Not only is she your mate, she’s the girl you’ve been thinking about your whole adult life. She’s the reason you’ve never had a real relationship. Wolves don’t just reject their mates without steep consequences.”
“She won’t leave her coven.”
“Then it sounds like you need to work on brokering peace between us and the witches more than I realized,” he says, about to leave the cabin, but stops as he’s nearly shutting the door. “I know how much this pack means to you. It’s the same for me. We’ve spent so much time, sacrificed so much to get to this point. But is it even worth it to be miserable in the end?”
He shuts the door and I sit at the kitchen table mulling over his words and actively trying not to drive back to Violet’s house.
Could I truly be capable of that kind of change? Could I unite our two species to the point where they would accept me andViolet together? Hell, can I make her like me enough for that? Do I even want to?
I think back to our trip and realize I haven’t smiled that much in years. I felt freer than I did during my run with my pack.
This pack deserves a true leader. Which feels like I need to put them above everything in my personal life.
The significance of our lineage and the distance from Violet has me tossing and turning all night. At one point, I even considered shifting to Thorin, so I didn’t have to deal with it. Instead, I just got a half-ass night’s rest and thought about the consequences and the possibilities.
I came to a few conclusions. One, I’m going to get to the bottom of what happened in this town thirty years ago. Two, Violet and I will work on breaking this curse, and I won’t tell her she’s my mate. That’s my issue, not hers.
Even if I find her beautiful and charming, it will never work, so instead I’ll carry this burden for the both of us.
There’s a knock on my door far too early in the morning. I curse, putting on a t-shirt and swinging it wide open.
A heavily pregnant wolf shifter I briefly recognize stands at the entryway and I swallow thickly as she rubs her stomach and looks at me with tear-filled eyes.
Chapter 22
Sneaking into my grand-mère’s house first thing in the morning as the sun rises is probably not my best idea. However, I know her schedule like the back of my hand. It’s a Sunday morning, she’ll be at Ember’s garden praying to Hecate.
I nearly jump out of my skin as the skeleton on her front porch lights up and I give it the finger as I use my key to unlock the front door.
