Page 120 of The Lone Wolf Café
I sighed. Fall was already turning into winter. Before long, the deciduous trees would be nothing more than bare, skeletal branches.
“So, I imagine you know why Mariah is summoning you all,” Adrian finally spoke as we walked. “But… there’s something I need to warn you about.”
I noticed Adrian was looking directly at me, and my throat suddenly felt very dry.
“Well, not reallywarn,” he backtracked. “I just want you to be prepared for this, and…”
“Adrian,” Rowena scoffed. “Just spit it out.”
“Okay,” Adrian replied, taking a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know, Nettie… that your father and sisters are here.”
The dread that had been mounting in my stomach for the entire ten-minute walk to town hall easily tripled once the four of us opened the doors to Mariah’s office.
I had no idea how my father was going to react. He had always been a loving, compassionate parent, but he was also very set in his old-fashioned ways, and could be quite…austerein his scolding and punishments. And fleeing Hollenboro had to be one of the most egregious ways I’d ever defied him.
I was fully prepared for him to unleash a full-on tirade as soon as we stepped into Mariah’s office. Which was when he swept me into a full-body bear hug before I’d even caught a good glimpse of him, I once again wondered if I was dreaming.
“D-Dad?” I stuttered in confusion, but he didn’t respond. He just continued holding me as if letting me go would cause me to disappear.
To run away again.
So I stayed there, embracing my father, knowing he wasn’t always one for words and had difficulty expressing his emotions.
I didn’t need him to talk.
His hug was enough for me to understand.
Next to me, over my father’s shoulder, I saw my mother erupt into sobs as she held my sisters. She whispered their names, over and over again, telling them how sorry she was and how much she loved them. Just like she had said to me the night before.
“I was so worried about you,” My father finally spoke, and to my shock, I could hear the choking timbre of impending tears in his voice.
“Dad?” I asked, still wrapped so tightly in his arms that my still-healing ribs ached. “Are you… crying?”
He didn’t respond, but I could feel tiny, damp marks on my shoulder where his head was.
My father, the Alpha werewolf of Hollenboro, the staunchest, hardiest man I’d ever known, was crying.
I thought the moon would sooner fall out of the night sky.
He finally broke the embrace, and I stared at that familiar face I’d left only a few weeks earlier. He had deep chocolate brown hair – always a mess in typical werewolf fashion – and a thick mustache accented by ever-permanent stubble. He was yet to start going grey, but I could see his age in his rough, tanned skin and the lines around his eyes and mouth.
My red hair and pale skin were all my mother, but I could still see some of my features in him. Especially the shape of my nose and the curve of my jaw.
“I… I thought you would be furious.” The words tumbled out of me, and I cursed myself as soon as I said them.Why remind him that I committed a punishable offense?
My father stiffened, wiping the watery hints of tears from his eyes as he regained his usual stoic composure. “Because I think you’ve been through enough. What would I gain – hell, what would this whole family gain – from me being angry? Besides…” My father turned toward my mother and sisters, who were still locked in their embrace, and his voice trailed off. He was completely and utterly lost for words.
So was my mother, once she and my sisters parted. My parents stared at each other, for the first time in fifteen years, and it was as if the world ceased to exist around them. They both looked like they had a million thoughts running through their mind, a thousand things they wanted to say and do, yet they were too stunned to do any of them. My twin sisters watched them with wary eyes, unsure of what would happen next.
“W-William,” My mother finally greeted, breaking the silence with a nod of her head.
“Amelia,” my father replied, that same soft sense of awe in his voice.
My gods. Shock hit me like electricity coursing through my veins.Her name.
I hadn’t seen my mother in fifteen years, and I was only six years old when she left. That, combined with my father barely acknowledging her memory once she disappeared, meant that I’d forgotten her real name.
Amelia.
