Page 17 of Pack Kasen: Part 3
“You don’t remember us at all, do you?” the woman asks me.
Mom, I mentally tell myself.You have to start using their names.
She resembles me, or I resemble her. We both have chestnut brown hair, though hers has a subtle red tint, and her eyes are hazel green.
And she’s so beautiful.
Her scent hits me hardest because it feels the most familiar. Fresh earth, wild honey, and a subtle, indescribable something that reminds me of a field of sunflowers. It’s comforting, but it also hurts because I lost so much time with her—practically my entire childhood.
I shake my head and brace myself for her hurt. “I’m sorry.”
Her soft smile surprises me. “You were so young when we lost you. I don’t know if I was more excited or scared to come here when your dad said you were alive.”
I lift my legs and wrap my arms around them. “Why would you be scared?”
After they came in, Aren left. I didn’t have time to put on clothes, so I’m still wrapped in a sheet from the bed while they’re in jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers.
She releases a soft sigh. “I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and I was scared I wouldn’t know what to say or if you would even want to see me because you blamed me for losing you.”
I look away, guilty, because that was my fault. When I met my dad a few days ago, and he said he would be back and bring Mom with him, I panicked. “I thought the same thing,” I whisper.
“What happened to you?” Carlie asks.
“Carlie!” Dad growls. “You can’t just?—”
“It’s okay.” I meet my sister’s curious green gaze. “I don’t know.”
She blinks. “You don’t remember any of it?”
Running my hand through my hair, I unbraid the loose braid I don’t remember doing, and I wince when I pull at a knot.
I’m a mess, and I can’t remember the last time I had a shower. I could do with washing my hair, putting on clean clothes just as soon as I find some, and getting some fresh air. But later. All of those much-needed things can come later. “I remember sunflowers.”
“That’sit!” Carlie demands.
I frown as I think. “And… porch stairs. There was a doll, I think. With long brown hair and…”
“Sophia,” Mom says softly, her eyes shimmering with tears. “You never went anywhere without Sophia. When we found her, but not you…”
Dad wraps his arm around her, gently squeezing.
“And you ended up here?” Carlie asks.
I nod.
“And did Dad punch Aren in the face?”
“Uh,” I glance at Dad. “I didn’t see it, but I heard it.”
Tagge, the Wolf Lord of Starling’s Peak, told him the daughter he believed had been dead all this time was alive and the mate of the Wolf King. I rushed down the stairs soon after it happened, and likely stopped Dad from trying to kill Aren. From the dark glare that Dad shot Aren as Aren left, I guess he still hates him.
She nods, eyeing Dad with respect. “Cool.”
He shakes his head. “It was not cool to lose control, Carlie. It never is.”
She shrugs. “But he deserved it, right? He kept her in a silver cage.”
When her fingers tighten around the hilt of her dagger, I start wondering how long Aren is going to last before she puts that knife in him.
