Page 200 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

“No. We’re not saying that. I’m just human like you said. They’re going off of the word of my addled ex-boyfriend who was told that’s who I was,” I said.

“We don’t know for sure either way,” Wes pointed out. “There is a reason his dad believes you’re Selene’s daughter. He didn’t just find a random human and say, ‘Ah yes, this one must be Selene’s promised daughter.’”

“Okay, well then, how do you suggest we figure out the answer? Call his dad? ‘Hello, Mr. Shelton. Sorry to bother you, but would you please tell us why you think Haven is a demigod?’”

“His parents are gone too,” Harrison told me. “We didn’t look into them before because we didn’t know about them. But after we learned Lennox was a lycan too, we did. It seems they disappeared around the same time as the Wainwrights.”

“So we’re back at square one, then,” I said, shrugging.

“Not necessarily,” Doctor Russo said slowly. “There is one other thing you can try.”

“And what’s that?” Wes asked.

“Visiting the oracles,” he answered.

“The oracles? Like… Ancient Greece, Oedipus Rex, oracle at Delphi oracles??” I asked, my voice rising.

“Yes,” Harrison answered.

My jaw hit the floor. Wesley laughed and placed his finger under my chin to close my mouth.

“I told you, all the stories are based on truth.” He chuckled. “And Doctor Russo is right. The werewolf oracles in Greece can talk to Selene sometimes. If Selene wishes to speak to them. They may be able to find the answers we need.”

I swallowed and blinked back my disbelief and shock. It seemed, with each hour that passed, I became more entrenched in this magical, mystical world I never realized existed. And even if I wanted to, there was no escaping it. I was stuck in it for good.

“All right.” I sighed. “It looks like we’re going to Greece.”

CHAPTER 68

HAVEN

It took far less time than I thought it would for Harrison and Emily to organize a visit to the oracles for us. One perk of them owning a private jet. A luxurious private jet I now sat in as we flew over the continental US towards the Atlantic Ocean and Greece.

We would first land in Athens, then get on a smaller plane to hop over to Santorini. And then, from there, we would take a ferry to the magically concealed island that held the temple of Selene, the temple where the oracles lived and worked.

I stared out the window. My chin rested on my arms, and my arms rested on the back of the plush, cream-colored couch in the secluded room Wesley had claimed as “ours” for the flight. He was out in the main cabin, speaking with Nolan about the details of our trip.

Even with how tired I was, my brain would not stop working overtime. There were still so many questions, so many unknowns. So many things I needed more information about.

The pocket door slid open, and Wesley slipped inside, a bottle of water in each hand. He smiled at me as he closed the door behind him, then crouched in front of me, handing me a water bottle.

“You should sleep, Sugar Plum,” he said, rubbing my leg. “We still have a long flight ahead of us. Nolan is already snoring.”

“I can’t relax,” I told him. “My brain won’t turn off.”

“Let me help you,” he murmured, kissing my forehead before standing up.

He walked to the wall and pushed a button, making light-canceling shutters descend over the windows and dimming the lights in the room to a low glow. He set his water down on the small tray, grabbed a blanket, then sat at the other end of the couch, patting the tops of his thighs.

“Lay down,” he ordered me in a low voice.

I blew out a breath and scooted over to him, unable to resist the warmth of his body and the deep voice he liked to use when he was in his protective, bossy pants Wes mode. My head descended into his lap, facing him, and he spread the blanket over me. His hand played with my hair, still slightly damp from the speedy shower we took before we left Crescent Lake.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he said as I looked up into his deep chocolate-brown eyes.

“What did you mean when you said you need to know when to mark me?”

His hand stilled on my hair for a split second, then began moving again. “Since you’re human, I have to mark you under the same moon phase you were born under,” he murmured. His fingers lingered on that ultra-sensitive place on my neck he’d shown me when he first told me about marking, and I shivered and bit my lip at the tender touch. “But I don’t know what phase that is because—”

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