Page 79 of An Enigma for the Lycan Crown Prince
Elden and I lay next to each other on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Elden is still holding the letter in his hands, clutching it to his chest. He has his eyes closed, a frown on his face. “It’s not working,” he mutters.
“What are you trying to do?” I ask.
“I am trying to use my gift,” he says. “I want to see who is sneaking into my room and going through my things, but I don’t know where to start.”
“How about you narrow down the suspects,” I suggest. “Then it will be easier to follow certain lines into the future.”
“I guess I could follow an option where I confront the warrior who was sent to snoop,” I say. “By Vincent’s description, it has to be Stanley.”
“Yes! Who are you suspicious of?”
“Only those who can give orders to high-ranking warriors,” he says, his voice blank and void of emotions. “My father, Samuel, Geneva and Emilia.”
“I think we can rule out Geneva,” I say quietly, hoping with all my heart that she is the good person I believe she is. Elden can’t take another hit.
“All of them are too close to me for my gift to work directly,” he says. “But I know it works in indirect ways. I could focus on Stanley, confront him in different ways…”
He closes his eyes again, and for half an hour, neither of us say a word. Beads of sweat appear on Elden’s forehead. “I almost had him in one string of the future, but he got scared and retaliated.”
“How about you try a different approach and follow him,” I suggest. “I think with your gift, you need to be creative.”
Elden opens his eyes and looks at me. “You are right,” he says. “There are no boundaries. Whatever I can think of and come up with might lead me somewhere.”
“Exactly. Imagine yourself randomly dropping the fact that you are going to read your mom’s letter. Say it in front of all of your suspects, and I am sure, whoever it is will alert Stanley, and then you can secretly follow him.”
There is an expression of highest concentration on Elden’s face, while he follows this new idea, or this new path, into the future. Then, his eyes snap open, and he sits up abruptly. “He went into the alpha’s office.”
“Follow him further to be sure,” I suggest.
Elden nods. “I am waiting in a safe distance… now he is opening the door again, Stanley is coming out, and my dad is behind him. They are talking.”
“Where is he going now?” I ask anxiously.
“To my room,” he mutters, before laughing humorlessly. “Oh fuck it, of course it’s my father! But this time, I outsmarted him.” He opens his eyes again, playing with the key in his hands. “I bet he knows that Mom left me something. Hemustknow. Oliver, as his beta, is obliged to report certain things to him, and I bet he knew that Mom left me a letter. Maybe he found out that she left me more than that.”
“He just didn’t imagine I would be the one holding onto it,” I point out. “I don’t get why, though. Why does he want to know what the late luna left you? And why now?”
“Maybe he only heard about the letter recently,” I offer.
“That could be an option. Oliver wouldn’t tell him without being prompted to.”
“And, maybe he is scared of what she is telling me in this letter?” he offers. “She told me to contact her Aunt Elspeth and Tobias. She said they know more and that they would help me. There is more truth than she wrote in the letter, maybe she didn’t want to write it all in it… or maybe she thought I’d be too young.”
“Probably a bit of both. Your father isolated you from the rest of your family,” I say quietly, reaching out my hand to gently take his. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly?” he mutters.
I nod.
“I don’t feel much. It’s just another point on the list, and not the worst of the things he did. That’s how low the bar already is. I am just-” he pauses, swallowing thickly and looking away from it, “I am just glad it wasn’t Samuel or Geneva. I might not alwaysget along with Samuel, and I can’t respect all of his decisions, but…” his voice trails off.
“I know,” I say, squeezing his hand tightly. “At least you know now that he is sincere. And are you aware of what else you know now?”
“No, what do I know?”
“That you have family somewhere,” I whisper. “Family that cares, not the cold-blooded elitists that didn’t care for your mom.”
“You are right,” he admits. “And I finally will get some answers. Fuck, I should have read that letter sooner.”
