Page 60 of Wind with a Chance of Wolfsbane

A small snort came from Jonathan. “No. I did it because they’d both contracted yellow fever and were dying. Selfishly, I couldn’t say good-bye. I thought I was strong enough back then to see them through the change and guide them on how to best deal with their wolves. Truth was, I didn’t have a handle on my own wolf back then, let alone the ability to deal with anyone else’s.”

Kellan’s brow furrowed.

“I was young and foolish,” confessed Jonathan. “I thought I knew better than those who had come before me. I thought I could be a better alpha than the one who had infected me. I wasn’t ready for that responsibility back then, and I didn’t fully understand what was at stake. I thought my brothers would transition and be fine after they had a few full moons under their belts. I didn’t account for the fact that I had a network of friends around me, going through changes of their own, helping to guide me when I was first transitioning. And for as twisted as my maker was and still is, he was strong enough to see me through it all back then.”

He hated giving Lucian that much credit, but it was true. Jonathan wasn’t sure he’d ever admit as much to Lucian though.

“Before you turned your brothers, were there any signs in Digby that hinted he’d end up with The Order?” asked Kellan. “Was there anything that foreshadowed his cracking mentally?”

“No,” stated Jonathan. He’d asked himself that very question countless times over the years. The answer was always the same.

Kellan hung his head as his shoulders slumped, as if the response wasn’t what he’d been hoping for.

“Is everything all right?” asked Jonathan, realizing the line of questioning more than likely wasn’t born out of a need to know the past but out of a fear of the future. Something was bothering the young shifter.

“Everything is fine,” said Kellan with a shrug. “Just wondering, that’s all.”

The smell of the lie filled the gap between them.

While Jonathan had never fathered any children of his own, he’d learned over the years that pushing for answers never really yielded the desired result. It simply left the truth hidden beneath layers of resentment, mistrust, and deflection.

“You can talk to me about anything,” said Jonathan, hedging his way toward the real issue at hand—whatever that may be. “We could go for a beer and a late dinner.”

Kellan ran his hand into the back of his shoulder-length brown hair. Nervous energy came from him in waves.

Jonathan’s wolf took note, but it didn’t act on it or see it as a weakness. It was concerned for the young shifter as well. He was family. He was pack.

“I could go for a beer, yeah,” said Kellan with a deep breath.

“Where will it be?” asked Jonathan. “A shifter bar, or should we stir up trouble in one of the others? Maybe a vampire one? No point bothering with slayer ones. They see us as part of them.”

Kellan smiled. “That does kind ofsuckthe fun out of trying to get them going.”

“I’d suggest one of the ones that cater to witches, but I don’t want to be cursed with fleas,” said Jonathan. “Again.”

Kellan laughed loudly, drawing attention from several of the students passing by.

Neither male said anything more until prying ears and eyes were far enough from them to avoid being overheard. While Grimm Cove was brimming over with supernaturals, it had more than its fair share of humans, and many of them had no clue what existed in the world around them.

Kellan eyed him. “Is the story true about you once dating a witch, and when things ended, she cursed you with fleas?”

“Date is a strong word,” said Jonathan, thinking back on it all. It had been right before he’d spent time in Detroit. “We weren’t exclusive.”

“Didsheknow that?” asked Kellan, clearly wanting to laugh.

“I think she figured it out around the same time she was casting the flea spell.” Jonathan guffawed, able to find humor in it all now that it had been well over a decade since it had happened. “I was itchy for weeks following. Made a point to avoid sleeping with witches since then.”

“Good rule,” added Kellan with a grin. “Ever think you’ll settle down with one woman?”

It was on the tip of Jonathan’s tongue to say no, but he found himself instantly thinking of the young woman with the broken glasses from Detroit. She’d be four years older now. Still too young for him, but at least a little bit older.

He still read from her journal regularly, searching for any clues as to her identity. Something he might have missed during one of the hundreds of times he’d read it before. There was nothing.

He’d also spent a fair share of his downtime trying to find leads as to who she was and where she might be. He told himself it was so that he could return her journal and her necklace, but the truth wasn’t as wholesome as that.

The truth was far darker.

He wanted her.

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