Page 52 of To Keep A Wolf
I sit again.
My father strides to the kitchen and comes to the table with a glass of his own. He grabs the bottle and pours himself a generous double shot. When he lifts a brow at me, bottle aimed toward my glass, I shake my head.
No amount of alcohol is going to lessen this weirdness anyway.
He shrugs and replaces the cap.
I watch while he takes a hefty sip, and then, together, we turn to look at my mother. For the first time I can ever remember, her face flushes in discomfort.
She clears her throat and looks down at her glass.
When she doesn’t speak, my own impatience wins out, and I snap, “Fine, I’ll start. Why don’t you explain to me what the hell you’re doing here, and save the bullshit? We know Jadick ordered you to hunt me down.”
She drags her eyes to mine. “You’re right. Jadick did order me to find you, but that’s not why I came.”
When she falls silent, I say, “I’m listening.”
“Jadick’s entire mission as alpha is about erasing the forced will of fated mates.” She speaks slowly as if choosing her words carefully. “Instead of breaking the curse imposed on our pack, he’s determined to end the very call of fate herself. He thinks the idea that the universe imposes this on us—who we love—makes us weak. That without our own choice in the matter, we—”
“I know all of this,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Look, if you think you’re going to come here and pretend you didn’t know Jadick is a piece of shit before now, you can see yourself out. Because that lame excuse isn’t going to work on any of us.”
Her expression tightens. “He’s planning a ritual,” she says, and I stand up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as I push it back in disgust.
I look at my father. “I’ll be in the van. Call me when she’s gone.”
“Mac, wait.”
I whirl away from the door to glare at my mother. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know any of this when you sold me out to that asshole?”
Her silence speaks volumes.
“And you come in here acting like you’re some angel sent to help inform me of this danger now? When I’ve already managed to remove myself from it, no thanks to you? Give me a break.”
Behind me, the door opens. Tripp walks in and stops short when he sees our standoff. Down the hall, the shower cuts off. Great, everyone’s listening now.
“Mac.” My mother tries to speak, but I’m done listening to her excuses.
“You’re not my savior, Mom. I found out about the ritual and Jadick’s intentions all on my own. I uncovered what kind of mess you helped put me in. And I nearly got myself killed in the process. Did you even know Jadick shot me with a poisoned bullet for trying to escape? Did you even care?” I don’t wait for her answer before pressing on. “If anyone’s my savior, it’s Levi and Tripp. They got me out of that house. Not you. And they brought me here where I’d be safe—from everyone except for you, it seems.”
“I told you. I didn’t come here to hurt you.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you led a tracker right to our doorstep.”
I don’t bother with the fact that she killed it while defenseless. As disturbing as it was to watch, I know she did it because nothing less would stop that thing. And we can’t exactly keep it contained in the house.
“It’s obvious Jadick doesn’t trust you, anyway,” I say instead. “That he sent that tracker to follow you. To make sure you got the job done.”
“Jadick doesn’t want a tracker to kill you,” she says. “He needs you for the ritual.”
“I’m sure he’ll come up with another desperate female to manipulate.”
“No one else will work,” she says. “It has to be you.”
The way she says it speaks volumes, and I stare at her, unflinching. Now, my heart races. Because she knows something I don’t.
“Why?” I demand.
“Because,” she says, voice rising to match mine, “three branches. Three choices. Three bones of our blood. Reject, Accept, reject. Three times three, so mote it be. That’s what the spell calls for. Blood of three generations times three choices.”
