Page 6 of Daddy's Friend’s Mate

Kiara perked up. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

Regina smiled affectionately, a crooked grin that made my heart stutter. Just for a second. “That’s a kind offer, Kiki, but you only have one bed.”

She laughed. “So, it’s Sleepover City every night.”

“I have a guest room,” I blurted. And then I stared at my beer with eyes wider than a full wolf’s moon. “I mean, that is, if you’re okay with it—I have a spare room. It’s not lavish. But it’s cozy.”

Regina turned her attention to me and smiled as if she were cradling the grief in my heart. Usually, wolves were tender creatures that needed much physical affection, so my daughter kept touching my forearm and popping me jokingly on the shoulder. As touch-based creatures, we sought comfort through physical means, which needed to manifest.

But somehow, this witch—this woman who cared for my best friend in his late hours—comforted me with a simple glance.

That was something to smile weakly about.

She nodded ever so slightly with gratitude. “I might take you up on that, Eric. For now, I’ll stay with Kiara.”

“You bet.”

Kiara patted my shoulder. “Any clue about that box, Dad?”

I turned an arched brow in the direction of the box. Once again, it stunted me with its ordinary appearance. Even the scent of it was just wood and dust, an aged smell that reminded me of storage rooms and attics.

I reached for the padlock. “There’s gotta be something to this…”

No, it was just steel with a keyhole in it. I had nothing that would fit the lock, which appeared more like a skeleton key opening than anything modern. Whoever put this box together had a certain time period in mind that barely compared to our modern era.

But what could be inside that reflected such a dated theme?

Regina leaned forward. “There’s no latent magic around it. But I’ve seen boxes like these that had a cloaking effect on the magic inside.”

“Do you think he made it look ordinary,” I pondered, “to keep people from thinking it’s important?”

“That’s a possibility. Papa loved puzzles.” She rolled her eyes fondly as she sighed. “As much as he loved being a prankster.”

I coughed twice and rubbed my palms together. “Guess it could be a joke, too.”

“I sure hope not,” Kiara chuckled, though I sensed the anxiety in her voice.

Over what? Would it all be some elaborate prank done by a now-dead best friend? It wasn’t like I wouldn’t appreciate something of that caliber. Steven was known for being a jokester in our group. All of it was playful and not at all harmful.

But a few times, someone’s couch would catch on fire, and we would have to smack it out with a coat or towel.

Boys will be boys.

As I touched the padlock again, I felt the familiarity of my friend behind the steel. It should have been cold. By every scientific law, the metal should have been cold to touch from sitting without any warmth. Yet regardless of that fact, it was scorching, much like it would be after someone held it tightly in their palm for several minutes.

It was almost like Steven had been holding the padlock until it got to me.

A burst of energy poured from the metal to my hand. I held the lock steady momentarily, tracing the keyhole a few times with the tip of my thumb. With a smile, I focused on every memory of Steven—the good and the bad.

And the lock popped open.

The three of us gasped in unison while the padlock unwound itself, slid off, and landed with a resonant thud on the coffee table. While staring at the box, I leaned forward, noticing the ethereal light brimming around the edges of the lid. I tipped it back, causing the hinges to creak eerily in the quiet living room.

Rich verdant satin lined the inside of the cherry-stained box. Within the waves of fine fabric was a pendant—an emerald gemstone necklace with a thick braided stainless-steel chain cradled in the very center. Tucked carefully beneath the elegant piece was a bit of parchment folded into what appeared to be fours.

The parchment called out for me. I didn’t know how else to describe the sensation. The paper just seemed to invite my touch. The moment I got it out of the box and unfolded, a sense of urgency came over me. The type of longing that surfaced was unfamiliar, yet something I was fully willing to honor.

Because it was prompted by my friend, Steven.

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