Page 39 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
“No, I couldn’t. I’ll be okay,” I said, trying to decline, but Don insisted.
“It will be good for all of us,” he said. “Please?”
I caved. His wife, Nina, was averygood cook, and whatever she made would surely be far superior to anything I cobbled together. Or ordered, as I wasn’t sure I had the energy to make food at the moment.
“Okay. I’ll come have dinner,” I said, smiling.
“Excellent.” Don beamed from ear to ear. “Supper is at five thirty sharp. Don’t be late, or the missus will givemetrouble for it.”
We laughed.
“Thank you, Mr. Atkinson.”
“Don, please,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thank you … Don. I’ll see you at five thirty.”
Grinning, pleased with himself to have helped solve a problem, he went back to his grass, and I went inside the house and closed the door.
The big, echoey old house,I thought as the shutting of the door bounced off the walls. So empty and cold now. Unlike when she’d lived in it. Especially back when I was a kid and still lived nearby with my mom and dad. Back then, it had been full of life and laughter.
In my mind’s eye, my mother, grandmother, and I all came scurrying around the corner from one room, giggling wildly to ourselves. A moment later a bone-white monster came rushing after us, his arms in the sky. My dad roared in mock anger as he chased us, the flour bouncing off him with every step, leaving a fine dust cloud in his wake.
The image of him disappeared right next to the coffee table, as my eyes landed on my grandmother’s journal. She had left the journal for me, and me specifically.
“All right, Grandma,” I said, kicking off my shoes and sitting on the couch, journal in hand. “Just what were you trying to tell me by leaving this? What’s in the pages that’s so important I had to read it? It’s time to figure out your mystery. Not to mention why you couldn’t just come out andsayit. You were never one to do things by accident or without meaning, but this time you’ve outdone yourself on the complexity. I’m fumbling in the dark here. The only thing that’s come out of it is meeting Lincoln.”
I sat up straight. “No. No way. That can’t be it. She couldn’t have been. That’swaytoo diabolical. Even for her. There’s more to this than my love life.”
There is no way she put this all together as an elaborate way to set me up with him. She wouldn’t involve her death like that. Lincoln may be hot, but he’s not worth losing you over, Grandma. Besides, you knew I was still dating Caidyn. After that spectacular explosive ending, I think my dating life is going on hold for a bit, thank you very much!
Thinking of the ex reminded me I probably had a whole new wave of messages on my phone. Pulling my phone from my purse, I glanced at it—
And immediately regretted it.
“What aloser,” I moaned angrily, swiping away the two dozen missed call notifications along with the angry text messages about being ignored, demanding that I respond and insisting we need to talk. That we could work through this if I would just talk to him. Lots of swearing.
“I’m so done with you,” I muttered, swiping it all away and tossing my phone down. I gripped the journal with both hands, open to page one.
I considered just flipping to the final entry, the last one she ever wrote, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The wound was just a little too fresh. Better if I started from the beginning and worked up to it. That way, it wouldn’t hurt as much.
But as I adjusted my grip to begin reading, I noticed something in the pages. One of them had been dog-eared, the tip folded down to mark a spot.
Did you do that on purpose, Grandma?
I opened to that page and read what she wrote. The language was weird. All English, but she’d written it not as a journal entry but as a letter.
Could she have done this on purpose for me?
There was more talk about the guardian and how it was the duty of him and his people to protect the town and keep the forest secure. It talked about how a century and a half ago, they had done so with honor and duty, despite a tremendous cost. She put emphasis on that part, reminding the reader that such things need always be remembered. That even ifhispeople forgot, others must not.
I read on:
There is a link between us and them and a bond that must remain. If it is not restored, there will be nothing for the guardian to protect. When I am gone, what remains of that bond with the forest will go with me.
Unless it is taken up by another of my blood.
I looked up, tearing my eyes away from the page with great difficulty. That was damnably ominous and could hardly be vague. She could have written this letter-entry for only one person. Only one “of her blood” that it could be referring to.
