Page 122 of The Lone Wolf Café
And this time, there was no hiding who I was.
There was no time limit.
I could spend every day with our adorable elementals, plenty of coffee, tea, and scones, and our high-backed chairs by the fireplace.
Rowena and I.
Together.
“Mariah?” A sudden voice burst through the door of the mayor’s office.
I spun around in my seat. In the doorway was the witch who was able to manipulate objects – he’d helped transport Rowena’scrate to town hall. His eyes darted around the room, from me and Rowena to my parents and sisters, and I noticed the frazzled concern on his face.
“What is it, Diego?” Mariah asked, in a comparatively calm tone.
“Um, we have visitors,” Diego replied. I noticed he sounded out of breath, as if he’d just been running.
Mariah’s brows narrowed. “What do you mean visitors? The ward is–”
“Secure, don’t worry,” Diego interrupted. “They’re on the other side of it.” He turned his gaze to me. “They’re all asking for Nettie.”
Me?
Wait…
“The werewolf pack,” I blurted out. It occurred to me that Wisteria Grove rarely – or possibly never – saw them in their human forms.
I sprang up from my seat, pulling Rowena up with me.
“Alice, Abbey,” I gestured for my sisters to stand. “The local werewolf pack is here. Mom’s pack.”
Their eyebrows raised in shock and wonder, and wide smiles lit up their faces.
Ourpack.
Our family.
“Well, come along.” My mother smiled, ushering all of us towards the door. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
Once we left the town square and crossed the pumpkin patch to the nearby forest, there was a cluster of waving and cheering werewolves, eager to see us.
Rowena broke from our group first, charging through the barrier and throwing her arms around her father. Duncan pulled her tight, lifting her up and swinging her around as if she were a child.
It was the first time she’d seen him outside of their secret nighttime meetings.
They didn’t have to hide it anymore.
And it filled my heart with joy.
My sisters were next, running toward a group of similarly-aged teens who were jumping and waving at us. They all swarmed Alice and Abbey, eagerly welcoming them into their little group. I imagined quite a few of them were our cousins. Or even second cousins.
My mother walked ahead of me, and I noticed her gaze was locked on an elderly man in the middle of the group. He had very tan, leathery skin and a thick beard the same snowy white as the few hairs left on his shiny, round head.
“Nettie,” my mother introduced once we reached the elderly man. “This is Alden. He’s the Alpha of the Mount Desert Island pack, and most importantly, he’s your grandfather.”
I nervously offered a hand to shake, but the man instead pulled me into a tight hug. He let out a low, joyous chuckle, and I could feel the strength in his arms and the roughness of his calloused hands as he hugged me.
He smelled like pine and woodsmoke, and faint memories of him, fifteen years younger and his hair still dark brown, appeared in my mind.
