Lone Wolf Dawn (Alpha Underground Book 2) by Aimee Easterling

Author:Aimee Easterling
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Wetknee Books
Published: 2016-06-27T22:00:00+00:00

***

The facility Wolfie had rented out for us was part skating rink, part haunted house...and all fun. We spent all day Saturday gliding down long corridors filled with mirrors and monsters, pausing to scarf down catered sandwiches that gave Celia’s open-house spread a run for its money, then repeating the antics in lupine form.

And as we played, I could feel the pack bond regrowing between the five of us. I hadn’t meant to tie my ex-clan members back to me, had in fact thought the young adults were better off living in Haven. But I didn’t really have a say in the matter. The tendrils of light that connected us into a web of intertwined bodies, minds, and spirits emerged unbidden with every nip-the-tail gag and affectionate shoulder bump. I wasn’t so sure I was becoming the quartet’s alpha again, yet it was clear we were now and forever a pack.

As my glance scanned across my comrades, in fact, I abruptly found it hard to breathe, repressed pleasure tightening my chest into a painful sort of joy. Still, I knew I couldn’t put off the difficult part of this day forever. So, once Cinnamon had engaged the rest of the shifters in a game of paint ball using ketchup bottles as weapons, I pulled Celia off to one side, gritted my teeth, and said, “Lay it on me.”

I’d expected the one-body to jump at the chance to tell me whatever had been floating behind her eyes ever since I showed back up in her life. But, instead, my mother glanced away evasively as if she was unwilling to break the spell of simple fun that had lain like a mantle across the entire charmed day.

Still, Celia nodded at last and led me back around the edge of the rink until we were well clear of condiment mayhem. Sagging down together onto a bench, we released cold toes from cramped skates in tandem. Then my mother pulled out the tremendous purse she’d been lugging by her side all day long.

“I think you should look through this first,” she said tentatively, “and then I’ll explain anything that doesn’t make sense.”

No wonder she chose such a gargantuan handbag. As my mother spoke, the pouch in question disgorged a shoe box...but not the usual kind that footwear came in. Instead, this was a box-turned-scrapbook, images and words carefully papered across the sides.

The images were all of me.

Not of me now, but of a growing halfie child. Gangly teenager, pimply pre-teen, even some adult shots I was pretty sure had been taken no more than six months earlier.

My brow wrinkled up in confusion. “I don’t understand....”

“Look inside,” my mother said gently, lifting off the lid to reveal printed emails and additional photographs. Dozens, maybe hundreds of each.

I skimmed the words, saw that the missives were signed by Wolfie and addressed to Celia. The reports were dated the first of every month and they summed up each significant life event with careful precision. My hopes, my dreams, my skinned knees, my minor triumphs.

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