Page 57 of Wolf Hunter

Mom had been the rock of the family. The single point to which the rest of us turned our attention. She was the guiding star keeping us grounded and in line against our father’s mood swings and heavy fist.

She often bore the brunt of both those things, and it took me way too long to realize what she dealt with, what she was forced to endure. By the time I did… it was too late, the damage done.

My father might be gone, but he’d exacted one last laugh by taking Mom with him. She passed within a day of him, and I still have no fucking clue if their deaths were related.

Anger flashes through me, bright and keen, a fire with a bit of gasoline added for kick. It isn’t fair. I shouldn’t have had to deal with this at the same time. Losing her and handling everything that went along with being alpha. She should have been here to guide me through this while I figured things out.

I crouch in front of the headstone with her name carved deep into the granite, trailing my fingers over the letters.

Aurelia.

She’d been a wolf to be reckoned with, and no matter how far I travel, I always come back here. Although, who am I kidding? I don’t travel. I barely leave sight of the mansion these days.

I should have done more to save her.

I should have done everything I could to protect her from that man, and no amount of passing time does anything to chip away at my culpability.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter under my breath.

It doesn’t matter that I’m alone.

It doesn’t matter that no one will hear me no matter how loudly I shout them. These words are for Mom alone.

My wolf rises up inside me at the swell of emotion, and the man recedes. The wolf misses his cornerstone more than anything, mourns her loss. The wolf misses the one person in this life who saw him for who he is and didn’t shy away. All the good, and the bad.

She always said she loved her sons equally and carved out the necessary time to spend with each of us kids—when we weren’t thrown to the mercy of our father’s hands and bloody knuckles while he tried to make us into men.

Intohim.

I tip my head back and howl, vocal cords shifting as the sound rips straight out of my heart. Mourning changes nothing. Maybe my brothers should be here with me. They more than likely visit her when they have a chance—I don’t ask them—but the three of us, together, may open up the path to actually talking for once.

But then the wind brings me a familiar scent.

The wolf leaps up further, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Claws curve out of my fingertips as I whirl around to face the newcomer without recognition.

Intruder.

Someone has a hell of a lot of nerve to come here to this place. And they came alone, which means one thing: they planned to maneuver me into a weakened position to take me out.

Cloaked in shadows, the unfamiliar figure approaches with a hand behind its back. My shackles rise.

Danger.

And my wolf knows we will do anything it takes to protect ourselves and this sacred place.

I squint against the darkness, trying to make out a distinct shape. Strangely enough, even with my sharpened vision, it’s hard to see anything but the whiteness of the snow and stone-marked graves.

“Reid.”

That voice… It’s Tasha’s, but it almost carries on the wind, like a whisper from a ghost.

And maybe she is. Or at least, a phantom in my thoughts, haunting me, since she’s not actually here.

The wolf inside me is on high alert. It recognizes Tasha as nearby but not seeing her has it on edge. Something isn’t right.

“Tash…” I whisper cautiously as I scan the area again, muscles tense. “Is that you?”

“Reid, it’s me,” she calls back. Like before, it sounds like she’s close, but I can’t find her anywhere.

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