Page 22 of Mated to the Wolves

“I can’t go any further than this.” His voice is thick with regret.

“What’s back there?” My hands tremble.

“Our family’s legacy.”

“I don’t understand.” I look at the dark pathway. Is this real?

“I’m sorry. There are rules between the living and the dead.” Sorrow fills his eyes. “I can’t move freely on this plane.a” Our time together reaching an end.

I rush forward, wrapping my arms around his waist, I hold on tight. Anger isn’t worth missing this chance to hug my father again.

He returns the fierce embrace for a long moment. “It’s time for me to go.” I release him. “Please forgive us, Ylva. We only ever wanted the best.”

Swallowing hard, I nod and turn to face the corridor. Stepping down, I enter the cold, damp space.

Gathering my nightgown, I move forward slowly. A sconce flickers to life. The passageway appears to be original to the home.

Gray bricks are set with mortar and cut in irregular sizes. I see a rectangular opening ahead. Holding my breath, I step inside. Bookshelves line the wall opposite me.

A large wooden table sits in the middle of the room. Antique glass cases rest against the wall on the right, full of trinkets.

There’s immense power in this space. I walk toward the bookshelf.

The leather spines are broken in, but well, taken care of. I trail my fingers down the backs.

Pack 1700s, Pack 1800s. Why hide history books?

The legend of Fenrir. I think back to the large wolf’s words. I pull the black book with golden letters off the shelf and open it. Those of his line will be tasked with the job of protecting–.

“Ylva.” I’m pulled from sleep.

Vision bleary; I turn to glare at my aunt. That book and its contents felt important.

“It’s time to get up. Your presence is required at the meeting tonight.”

“What?”

“The Alpha has called us all together.”

“All of us?” I smack my lips together and stare at my high school art collage adorning on the

wall. The stained-glass piece depicts a wolf howling at the moon.

“It’s a pack-wide summons. He asked that we take special care with your appearance as you

are to represent your father’s line.”

Had Papa sensed this was coming? Is that why he’d reached out to me from beyond the veil for the first time since directly after their passing? “I’m awake.”

“A bath is waiting. I procured a dress that should be adequate. We will do your hair in a traditional style and adorn your face with the markings of our people.” Her formal attitude and lack of antagonistic behavior put me on edge. There’s no kindness—but a grudging respect.

This is downright sucking up for her. What did I miss? Sit up, crossing my arms.

“The Volva told me to rest. Why should I disobey her orders?”

Her cheeks redden. “Because it’s been demanded by your Alpha. You’ll represent us too when you arrive

tonight. I want to make a good impression.”

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