Tears prick my eyes as I try to come to grips with the fact my mate has been alive for the past fourteen years, and I hadn’t bothered looking for her. I believed what my father told me and took it as gospel.
I’m quickly back at my feet and barreling through the group of pack members now surrounding me. I ignore Sawyer’s and Avery’s calls, asking me what’s going on as they follow closely, their voices full of confusion and worry.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m tackling my father, the alpha of our pack, to the ground. “How could you lie to me!” I roar, my animal side more in control than my human. “You told me she was dead, and I believed you!” I’m just about to bring my tattooed fist down to deliver a blow to his face when two males tackle me to the side and send me rolling into the grass.
Ransom and Ranger.
I’m in a defensive position in the blink of an eye, and I quickly whirl around to face my attackers. I know my eyes are now in wolf form and are glowing gold, and my canine teeth have elongated. My claws are out too, I feel them digging into my palms, and the warm sensation of blood dripping down my fingers follows.
“Ryker, what are you talking about!” Ranger demands as he starts to move to my left while Ransom moves to my right, planning an attack from both sides if it becomes necessary. I don’t look directly at them; I keep my gaze on my father as he pulls himself off the ground, and calmly keeps his on me.
“Grey!” I growl in response. How could they not have told me she’s been here the whole time?
“What about her, Son?” my father asks, taking a slow step toward me. “I know today is her birthday, I know that must be hard—”
“I’m not talking about her fucking birthday! I’m talking about how she was standing right there!” I point at the window above our heads that’s, of course, now empty. I know she is still in the house, though. My wolf can sense her nearness.
“Ryker...” I hear my mother’s soft voice emerge from the group as she steps forward and heads in my direction. “Honey, Grey died. I don’t know what you saw, but sweetie...” She gives me a sad smile, and she calmly places her small hand over my forearm. “She isn’t here.”
“I just saw her in the window,” I whisper to my mom, who stares up at me with blue eyes that look much like my own. “Her hair was in a braid, just like how Genevieve used to do it for her.”
“Wait, a braid?” Sawyer asks, walking up to me. “That girl, Pruitt, the one I was talking about a minute ago was in the kitchen, and she had a braid. Maybe that’s who you saw, and she just looks like Grey.”
“No!” I growl, pushing my mom’s hand off me and quickly shoving my fingers through my hair. “It was her! She had the mating aura around her, I saw it!”
“Pru’s not Grey, man,” Ransom tells me as his own eyes shift back to their normal human blue instead of the glowing wolf silver. “She’s Remi’s friend. Her very human friend.”
“She moved here like ten months ago with her aunt,” Ranger adds in. “Cool chick, but definitely not Grey.”
“Come on.” My mother takes my hand and begins to pull me toward the house. “Can you keep yourself together long enough for me to introduce you to Pru? To get this crazy thought out of your head?”
“Mom, I swear I saw Grey. She’s grown up now, but it was her.” I walk beside my mother, and the large group of pack members politely steps out of the way to give us room to pass. Many of their eyes are wide with shock, but also I catch the scent of fear. Great, I haven’t seen these people in five years, and now they’re afraid of me.
My mom leads me into the kitchen, and I can’t help but stare at the spot where I saw her standing. I take a deep inhale and sort through the smells. The different scents of pack members and family members fill my nose, but underneath the familiar is one that is different than the rest. One vaguely familiar, a scent of of sunshine and vanilla, and I can’t help the small smile that appears on my face.
She was here. I know it. I follow the scent through the living room and down the hall, to the small guest bathroom. I discover the small room now empty, and my heart sinks.
“She was here!” I tell my mom, whose worried blue eyes watch me closely. Her lips are pulled down in a sad frown, and I know she thinks I’m losing my mind. There’s a small chance I am, but I’m willing to take the risk.
Remington emerges from her bedroom a few doors down, holding a piece of dark clothing by her fingertips as far away from her as possible.
“Honey, did you get sick?” My mother rushes forward, obviously not missing the scent of vomit that accompanies my younger sister. My mom puts her hands on Remi’s forehead, checking for fever or signs of illness.
Pushing mom’s hands off of her, Remi explains, “What? No. This is Pru’s. She totally tossed her cookies. She thinks she ate some bad Chinese food last night or something.” Remington shutters at the memory. “Being the amazing friend I am, I gave her one of Ransom’s shirts to wear after she got some vomit on her tank top. So gross.” She holds up the tank top and cringes.
“Where is Pru now?” Mom asks her,
