Page 107 of Wanted
What can’t be built or grown, we purchase locally as much as we can. We’re a mix of modern and living according to the old ways of our people. From Emery’s perspective it’s not luxury. Though we can afford the luxury if we wanted.
Emery has said she’s mine and feels at home here, but what if going back to New York changes her mind?
Now is not the time to wonder about that. What’s important is that I get to find out more about those fucking pills Emery was taking and the doctor who prescribed them. Additionally, I do recognize that I may have to let Emery’s parents into our world to an extent.
Emery glances up over my head.
I pivot to see the light over my bedroom door that lets me know there’s someone at the front door, blinking.
“Finish packing. I’ll see who it is.”
I pull her in and brush my lips across hers. Emery lets out a moan that she lets me hear through our bond. She does this on purpose, for my benefit because she knows I can’t get enough of her voice.
Ever since she awakened from her twelve hour sleep after her first shift, I’ve had her read to me stories from the history book she started. Yes, I enjoy learning about my pack’s history, especially through her eyes.
Yet, more importantly, I yearn for the sound of her voice.
“Whoever’s at the door isn’t going away.”She grins.
I realize I’ve been lingering over her, reminiscing about the sound of her voice while I was supposed to answer the fucking door.
“What?”I nearly growl at my brother as I yank the front door of my house open.
Chael’s eyes widen, but not in surprise or even from being startled. He’s amused.
“Did I interrupt something?”
I release a low, annoyed growl before stepping outside of the door, closing it behind me. Normally, I never display annoyance to my alpha, but I can’t help it when I want nothing more than to spend my every waking moment in the presence of my mate.
“We’re leaving for New York in the morning,” I tell my brother.
He crosses his arms over his chest and peers at me through slanted eyes. “How is she handling her shift?”
I glance back at the door and then back at Chael. “Better than me,” I admit. For someone who spent their entire lives believing they were human to then discover the shift, would be a lot for anyone.
But Emery has taken it well. There’s a light in her eyes that was dimmed prior to her shift. It’s her wolf. Finally integrated with the rest of her.
“She feels whole,” I tell him out loud, using the words she told me.
He nods with a half-smile. “I’m certain that’s not the only reason she feels whole.”
He likely uses mind speak to say this so that I can ascertain his tone. So I know that he’s referring to our new mate bond formed the night of her first shift.
“And you? How are you coping?”
I think back to Emery’s gray streak. How she now wears it proudly. But also, what it means for her. She’s our pack’s storyteller. The one who compiles our history and ensures it’s preserved for future generations.
On the surface it sounds like a simple or easy role.
Yet, the truth is, that the responsibility of a storyteller comes with a certain amount of danger.
Because storytelling is integral to the preservation of a pack. It is also, at times, the heart of a pack, which if you take out the heart, you can end the way of life of a pack.
In past wars, another pack would often attack our storyteller first, signaling the desire to end the pack as a whole. Unfortunately, during my father’s reign, he utilized this war strategy as well.
Could that be the reason her identity was kept hidden for so long?
“I will take the life of anyone who tries to hurt her.”