I spun on my heel and found Donald sitting at the table with the newspaper in his hands. I immediately went on alert. If chatting with him was going to be like my talks with his wife, then I wanted to be anywhere but in this kitchen.
I shrugged, opening the refrigerator. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Me either.”
I heard Donald getting up, and my fingers squeezed around the edge of the fridge door. Closing my eyes, I sent up a silent prayer than he was leaving, that I wouldn’t have to endure yet another speech about how his son and me weren’t meant to be together. I had never thought of myself as having low self-esteem, but knowing that your fiancé’s parents loathe you will do a number to a girl’s ego.
“I understand my wife has spoken with you?”
With a heavy breath, I cursed the powers that be and shut the refrigerator. Turning to face my future father-in-law, I crossed my arms and stared across the room at him. He leaned against the counter, his hands hiding in his pants pockets.
“Yes, we talked,” I said. “While I think it’s great you guys want what’s best for Adam, I don’t appreciate being judged based on the blood running through my veins. The Great Spirits are the ones who paired us as Chantes. How can you guys question their judgment?”
In our mythology, The Great Spirits were the ancestors of the wolf. Every legend has a beginning; The Great Spirits are ours. I was never a spiritual person before becoming a wolf, but I felt a sense of pride when I transformed into my wolf, felt their presence every time I felt my paws beat against the earth and the wind in my fur.
Donald chuckled softly. “I see my Maggie has made an impression.”
Understatement.
“You must realize, Anna,” Donald continued, “We have never witnessed a pairing like yours. I don’t mean to be rude, but alpha born and made wolves simply do not become mates. The wolves are abuzz with the new development. I imagine my wife finds your relationship a tad embarrassing.”
I began to speak, but Donald held up a hand to stop me.
“… but that’s her cross to bear. Her problems with you two stem from her ego. We are held in high regard with the wolves, and learning her son is mated to a non-alpha is a lot for her to accept. Adam is the alpha of his own pack now, and you’re a baby to our world. You can see why she’s worried, not to mention the bond between you two.”
I was confused. Was he apologizing for his wife, or agreeing with her? Maybe his tactic was trying to get me to see reason. The only thing was, where love was concerned, there was no reason and Adam’s and my relationship was more complex than the average. I wondered, not for the first time, if Adam and I weren’t each other’s Chantes, would we even be together? Sure, we loved each other, and I had a shiny diamond on my finger, but would our story still be the same had we not been marked for each other? After all, it wasn’t like Adam ever proposed to Eve.
“Have you ever met another couple that bonded?” I asked Donald.
His aging face softened as he thought about my question. “There are stories of the Chante bond, but I have never met a bonded couple. As far as I know, the last bonded Chante couple was over a century ago. If it’s happened since then, the couple has kept it hidden.”
Donald closed the space between us and held out his hand, gesturing toward my own in question. Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his and watched as he turned it over to study my scarred palm. Softly, he traced the upraised pattern. My wolf quivered within me, sending goose bumps along my skin. The power of Adam’s father filled the air around us, suffocating and strong.
“Such a tricky, tricky gift,” Donald muttered.
My head fell to the side while my forehead wrinkled in question. He didn’t notice my inquisitive look, though; his eyes were locked on the brand.
“Because it’s more of a curse than a gift, right?” I said after a while. “Maggie informed me of that, too.”
After a few moments, Donald met my eyes and dropped my hand. “It can be—a curse, that is—but it can also be used for great power. It links two people together. It doubles everything: power, strength, awareness. Two become one, making them … unstoppable.”
I snorted in derision. “For that to happen, your son would have to allow me to fight. He panics as soon as anything dangerous steps into my path.”
Donald gave me a small smile. “It’s in his blood to protect what is his, and you are very much his. Plus, as I said, the Chante bond can also be a curse. If something were to happen to you, it would destroy Adam. While he may be protecting you, he’s also protecting his own life.”
I frowned at this meaning. He was telling me that the reason Adam sent me away when things got dangerous was that he thought I was a liability and could do more good hiding out than helping him fight. It was true, I wasn’t the best fighter before I got my honorary alpha status, but things had changed. I felt strong now, capable of taking on any wolf—or vampire—stupid enough to approach me. At that thought, another occurred to me. I needed to figure out who had hired vampires to kill me, and why. Was it to get to Adam, or to destroy him?
“You’ve heard about the vampire attack last night, right?”
Donald nodded his head. “Peculiar occurrence. Vampires and werewolves don’t cross paths often. We keep to ourselves and they to theirs.”
“So you don’t know who might have hired them?”
The lines around Donald’s eyes deepened. “Hired them?”
“They were here for me, to kill me. Do you know why a bunch of random vampires would just show up and want me dead?” When Donald shook his head, I continued, “Then it stands to reason that someone hired them to keep their hands clean. If a vampire killed me, then none of the wolves would be held responsible. The only thing is, I had a vision that it was Adam who died.”
I normally didn’t offer information about my visions to anyone other than those close to me, but I knew hearing this information would rile Donald up. Having him on my side wouldn’t hurt, should things get out of control. Donald and Maggie may be pretentious and prejudice, but I knew they loved their sons. If someone planned to kill Adam, they sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and allow it to happen. I thought about Anthony and what he had confessed last night, that he had the urge to protect me. Strange, yes, but my whole world had been strange since I turned into a werewolf. I knew I should have told someone, especially Adam, about this new information, but I also knew how pissed Adam would be. Anthony wasn’t honorable like his brother. He had made one bad choice after another, but something deep inside of me could overlook all that. Maybe I, too, was aware of him as much as he was to me. Maybe, just maybe, my theory on the twins was right, and my bond with Adam extended to his brother. Not in the same sense, though, as I wasn’t attracted to Anthony and didn’t feel anything remotely as close to what I felt for Adam.
“Anna, are you even listening to me?”
I blinked, coming out of my thoughts to find Donald glaring at me. His hands curled into fists at his sides and his lips slanted down into a scowl.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What were you saying?”
Donald stepped closer to me, his alpha power like lightning licking against my skin. My wolf writhed inside me with uneasiness.
“Who did you see kill my son?”
“I—I didn’t.” My voice came out as a stutter as I fought off the effects of his anger.
Donald raised his arms and curled his fingers around my shoulders. His fingers dug into my skin almost painfully. I looked up to meet his eyes, but the storm brewing behind them cowered me. Donald wasn’t just an alpha, he was an olde blood and more powerful than even his son. My wolf whimpered inside me, scratching and clawing to get as far away from that angry stare as possible.
“What do you mean, you didn’t?” Donald snapped. “You said you had a vision of Adam dying. At whose hand?”
“Can you please let go of me and take a step back? I can’t concentrate when you’re frightening my wolf.”
With reluctance, Donald let go of my shoulders and stepped away from me. He crossed his arms and stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. The thickness of the air around me eased a little, and I could breathe better.
I took one long, deep breath and then explained the vision I had had of Adam dying. When I was done, Donald scrubbed a hand over his aging face and stared at the hardwood floor, as though it held all the answers. He didn’t need to tell me how frustrated my vision made him; it did the same to me. What was the point in having visions if no helpful information could be extracted from them?
“I planned to investigate further today,” I told Donald. “I want to know how to stop it just as much as you do.”
“And how do you plan to do that if you don’t know who’s responsible?”
I thought for a moment. “I’m going back to the spot where the wolves fought the vampires last night. I’m hoping by being there, touching the ground they walked on, another vision will appear, and I can learn more. No secrets stay hidden for very long.”
Donald met my eyes and gave me a curt nod. “If you learn anything new, I want to know about it immediately.” And with that, he stomped out of the kitchen. I didn’t relax until the front door slammed shut, and I was standing in the kitchen alone.
I walked up a dirt trail that would lead to the clearing of the fight last night. Tall pine and birch trees lined either side of me, their limbs shadowing the earth. Thick, gloomy clouds hovered in the sky with the promise of snow. At this altitude, snow wasn’t restricted to seasons—it came year round. Angry blizzards suddenly erupted up here all the time. I eyed the clouds with disdain, hoping they held out until I was done. The cold wouldn’t bother me, but investigating while tiny specks of snow bombarded my face was sure to make it difficult.
When the dirt road opened up into the clearing, I stopped and took in the scene. Broken branches and upturned grass was the only sign that something happened here last night—that and … blood? I raised my chin in the air and took in a deep breath, swiveling my face from left to right. It was blood, werewolf and vampire. The blood of the wolf smelled of rich earth and pine, whereas the vampires’ smelled stale with an undertone of burnt hair.