Page 93 of Wind with a Chance of Wolfsbane

I spun around and silently prayed that the mysterious secondary staircase was still there. While I now understood Astria was more than human, I had yet to confess the truth of being a wolf-shifter to her. I wasn’t sure how the news would be received, and letting her find out by way of me doing an uncontrolled shift in the house wasn’t on my list of things to do.

I couldn’t imagine anyone in their right mind being fine with a huge white wolf appearing in a house with them out of seemingly nowhere. And there was zero way I could communicate with her if I was in wolf form. She wouldn’t know it was me.

No. That wouldn’t do.

I needed distance from people as fast as possible.

I ran down the stairs, taking them three at a time. Once I was in the kitchen, I went straight for the back door. The woods that weren’t far from campus would work perfectly as a spot to let the wolf out fully and not be seen. I hurried in their direction, cutting through a few yards before emerging onto a small side street that would dead-end into the woods.

Thankfully, I didn’t see anyone because explaining away furry arms and long clawed fingers wouldn’t be easy.

The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I faltered in my step, slowing my run instantly. My gaze swept the area, taking in the sights and sounds. While I couldn’t see anyone, I could hear and smell other humans in the vicinity.

There was more than one person mowing their lawn, as noted by the sounds of lawn mowers and the smell of fresh-cut grass. Someone was washing their car. I could smell the soapy mixture and hear the sloshing sounds of the sponge.

Everything seemed so normal. So perfectly suburban that it was almost laughable. It made me wonder how many, if any, of the people who resided in Grimm Cove knew what lived under their noses or had any inclination of what had occurred here eighteen years prior.

Hell, if they knew creatures like me were real even.

The small moment of amusement allowed me enough time to get my wolf under control. The hair on my arms receded, as did my claws. I didn’t trust my emotions to remain level, especially with the blast from the past I’d gotten in my old room. Taking a trip down memory lane was something I knew would happen while I was driving to Grimm Cove, but I never expected it to impact me as much as it was.

I needed to decompress and think by myself. Somewhere I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally shifting should my emotions bubble over.

I continued toward the woods but walked quickly rather than running.

The feeling of being watched returned, and I glanced around once more. It had been a number of years since my wolf felt so on edge. Gone were the days of seemingly endless threats. Mina and I had traded being constantly vigilant for soccer games and playdates.

Was being back in Grimm Cove dredging up old memories and igniting fears that were no longer warranted? Was I being paranoid? Or was there something to it all?

I quickened my pace to a run. Before I knew it, I’d reached the woods and the very same cave that had changed my life eighteen years ago. I moved with adept swiftness over the rocky ledge that was a lot like a naturally formed walking path that ran up and behind the waterfall. Each step I took was filled with both familiarity and anxiety. My memories of the last time I’d entered the cave were limited to everything that happened before I lost control and began to shift forms.

From there, I had fragmented memories. Ones that I’d tried desperately to fill the gaps in over the years. Even when I’d finally learned to accept my wolf and be as close to one with her as I was probably ever going to get, I still couldn’t remember more from that night.

I no longer suffered from memory loss when I shifted forms. And I wasn’t totally at the mercy of my wolf side once I was shifted. That only happened when my emotions were on overdrive. So long as I let my wolf out regularly, I had a say in what happened during my time on all fours.

As I entered the cave, its familiar damp smell greeted me.

An odd sense of coming home poured through me as I noticed that very little had changed from what I could remember. The chains and shackles were broken now and littering the floor of the cave.

Not far from the chains was a small area that had old, dried-out flowers piled in it. Those hadn’t been there eighteen years. From the various states of decomposition, someone had been bringing flowers here numerous times throughout the years.

There was a large bouquet of fresh flowers propped against the wall of the cave. It included sunflowers, irises, and even lilies, and it was beautiful. There was a small card attached to them.

I walked closer to the area that was starting to feel a lot like a memorial shrine with each step I took. I bent, my fingers skimming over the card. While I knew it was wrong to look, seeing as how the flowers weren’t for me, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I lifted the card and cocked my head to the side as I found a phone number written there. Nothing more.

Odd.

I was just about to return the card to the flowers but stopped and brought it closer to my chest instead as I took in the sight of the older flower arrangements. Instead of doing the right thing and putting the card back with the flowers, I pocketed it as if I might need the number someday. I knew the act wasn’t rational, but I didn’t care. It felt right.

As I glanced to the right, I found myself staring at the collar I’d secured around my neck. It was broken open, looking like someone had sliced through it with something incredibly sharp. Closing my eyes, I tried desperately to remember that night. More specifically, I tried to remember anything about my daughter’s father that could help me identify him and possibly find him.

After a moment, I realized I was crying softly. There hadn’t been any one trigger in particular that had set me off. It was more of the sum total of events weighing on me.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

Jonathan

Jonathan didhis best to steer Marcy in the direction of the SUV. She had yet to budge from the porch. “Marcy.”

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