Page 41 of To Keep A Wolf
He shakes his head, still smiling to himself. “You get that from your mother.”
The mention of her makes me cringe. But now that he’s opened the floodgates, I intend to ride the current.
“I got everything from her, apparently. And not a damn thing from you.”
I brace myself for some angry comeback. But his shoulders fall. “Yeah, I can see how you’d think so.”
Maybe it’s the lack of fight that keeps me from biting his head off, but I keep silent as he walks to the garden and plucks a ripened cucumber right off the vine. Then he walks past me toward the house.
At the screen door, he turns back. “You coming?”
On a sigh, I follow him inside.
The house is simply furnished with an open floor plan. We enter through the kitchen where dark walnut countertops are framed by simple wooden cabinets. The dining table and chairs all look hand-carved from a lighter grain wood that complements the darker tones of the kitchen. Beyond the short breakfast bar, a deep-cushioned sofa is punctuated by an armchair on either end. The seating points toward a screen mounted over the stone hearth.
The vibe is ridiculously cozy, and despite my reservations about, well, all of this, I find myself drawn into the space. I can’t help but think how easy it would be to kick my shoes off and sink into that couch, maybe watch mindless TV over a plate of smoked meat and garden veggies.
And that’s exactly what he does, I realize, looking up to see my father already watching me. Like he wants to know what I think of the place.
I don’t tell him I can see myself being happy in a place just like this one.
“I saw a picture of you once,” I say instead. Because it’s literally the only relatable thing I have left. “Mom and you sitting together with me in between. I was a baby.”
His expression softens. “I remember it. One of the only pictures we ever took. She still has that?”
There’s a yearning in his eyes that makes me turn away. “She got rid of it after I found it.” I don’t look over to see if that bothers him.
“Sure, that makes sense.”
His tone is infuriatingly understanding.
I scowl, forcing myself to look right at him, this time with anger. “Does it? Because none of it makes any sense to me at all.”
He walks to the counter and plucks a knife from the block. He’s half-turned away from me now as he washes and slices the cucumber. Still, I cross my arms, refusing to move toward him.
In fact, maybe I should just go—
“She made me swear,” he says on a weary sigh.
I stiffen because I know who he means. And I don’t dare do anything to spoil this moment. My mother has never given me even this much. I want more.
“She said accepting one another as mates was a death sentence.”Slice, slice.“She didn’t want that kind of life for you. Taunted, targeted, abused.” He looks up, eyes flickering to me, then quickly back down as he makes another slice. “She wanted you to have a chance. So, she made me promise to let her leave and never come looking for her. For either of you. Said if I did, it would only make your life harder.”
He stops and plates a few pieces of cucumber. Then he slides it closer to me and goes back to slicing. I stare at the offering. He doesn’t go on, and I have a feeling he’s waiting to see what I’ll do. Whether I’ll accept his gift—not just the veggies but his words.
Slowly, I reach over and pick up a slice. Then I pop it into my mouth. The freshness hits my tongue. It’s delicious after so much fast food.
“And that’s it?” I ask. “You promised, and then you just…let her leave?”
He arches a brow at me. “Have you met your mother?”
I scowl.
He has a point. Even so…
“Your mother and I were fated. Claimed and sealed from nearly the first night we met. Our bond was unbreakable. Or so we thought. But then we had you. And from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was one thing that could get me to let your mother go. Your safety was all that mattered, kid. Still is.”
I take another slice of cucumber, eating slowly. “Why did she have to go back at all?” I ask. “I mean, why not stay here together? Renounce the pack?”
