JUNIPER’S POV:
“Come, my child,” my mother says, leading me to the couch, then she helps me sit.
I stare at her with my heart pounding real fast, and a lot of thoughts swirl across my mind, making me wonder if something has gone wrong at home. I try to shake off the ill feeling and keep a straight mind, but that is all I can think of.
“Did anything happen to Milo?” I ask before she speaks, and she shakes her head.
My heart calms a bit, knowing my brother is safe.
“What I am about to tell you is a family secret that has been kept for years,” she says, and I swallow hard as I feel my heart race further.
Oh, I was dying to hear that wolves were real, but then the thoughts of the full story and whether I will stomach it claw at my heart. She inhales sharply once more, then she begins to speak.
“Your full name is Juniper Moonmiles.” Her first sentence makes no sense to me, but she doesn’t stop at that. “Moonmiles is a surname that belongs to the natives of the Shadow Pelt Pack, or used to belong to them.”
My breath hitches when she speaks of the Shadow Pelt Pack.
“I am a wolf?” I ask at once, and she shakes her head. “Then what am I? What is going on, mother?” the curiosity in my chest speaks before I can stop it.
“You come from a bloodline of werewolves, but you are not one because your ancestors mated with humans. When Rhea told me how you have been doing a deep dig on werewolves, I knew I could no longer keep it from you.” She sits beside me. “What is happening to you is normal, and it happens once in a while to people from your bloodline. A wolf will forever be a wolf, they would say. This means that you might be human, but you might experience things that werewolves experience, like having a mate. Also, the constant headaches you have it is because of the full moon, and I am sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, so you are not crazy my dear.”
Her words are supposed to give clarity to the mind-bugging questions in my mind, but somehow it seems to make me think more that I might be insane and she is just trying to massage my delusion in order to make me feel good.
“I do not know how far you have gone with the research, but I can tell you a few things I know. Your father was transparent with me when we got married, and he told me I was his mate. He wasn’t a werewolf either, but somehow, I was his mate. I do not know how that works, because it is normal to find werewolf to werewolf bond, and rare to find human to werewolf bond, but I am guessing it is the bloodline stuff he talks about.”
“The were people actually run this country. They brought technology to us a long time ago, and the government tried to capture them for experiments, but the werewolves were far more superior. When the government couldn’t capture them, they bowed to them and allowed them to take over. There are other mythical creatures amongst us: witches, even lycans. But the Lycans do not like humans, and currently, there is a war brewing between them and the Shadow Pelt Pack. I heard they struck down their king, and he just died like last week.”
I start to key into her words slowly, and I begin to wonder if the wolf chasing me in my dreams is my mate, who is trying to tear me away from Hiram.
“I am not saying this to scare you, and having a mate can be beautiful, especially if you find the right one. They will protect you, and they tend to put themselves first,” she says with her lips curving into a smile. “Your father did just that when he was alive, and he did inherit the sense of smell, so I had a particular scent to him. He used to tell me I smelled like cherry blossoms,” she adds, then she reaches for my hand.
“I hope you find your mate someday, and I hope he cherishes you as much as your father did me,” she says to me, and I feel a lump in my throat which I swallow.
“How do I know I have found my mate? Because I think I have, and it looks like whoever hates me. They keep chasing after me in my dream,” I say, and she lets out a sigh.
“That might not be the case. You will need a witch to interpret your dreams, but if your mate turns out to be vile, you have the power to reject him. It might hurt for a while, but you will get over it,” she says, and I inhale sharply at her words.
“I do not have much to say to you, June, and if you are really interested in the history of wolves, then you can use this book.” She reaches for her handbag on the seat, then she pulls out a medium-sized book from it.
The book looks old, and the cover has little tears around it. I take the book from her.
“Thank you,” I mutter, flipping it open at once, and the first image I see is that of the first Alpha king to arrive in Las Vegas.
“Herbert Howler,” I read aloud. There is something fishy about his looks, but I cannot place it, and I can swear I have seen him somewhere.
Scrolling further, I see the faces of the next kings. There is Hector, Hudson, Hunter… etc.
“Why do their names all start with H?” As the question leaves my mouth, I realize I have asked it before. I try to juggle my memory, and suddenly it hits me.
“It’s a family tradition.” Mother answers the exact thing Hiram said when we went on the mini vacation.
“Oh my God, it’s him!” I exclaim at once, getting to my feet.
“It is who?” Mother asks, and I shake my head, rushing toward the door.
“I have got to run,” I say to her as I run down the flight of stairs, making my way out of the apartment.
I quickly flag down a taxi, which takes me straight to Hiram’s house. My mind is swirling with a lot of emotions, the lines bordering on anger and betrayal. This explains his irrational behavior, and also explains why I cannot just let go of him.
My heart races in my chest as the taxi nears his house, and when it gets there, I pay him off, then I make my way into the house. I do not see Winston as I expect, and the house is overly quiet.
I walk down the hall that leads to the drawing room, and then I remember the pictures that have been missing for a while. I know they will be somewhere in the house, so I walk to the end of the hall, following my instincts. Instead of turning to the art room, I reach for the door opposite it, and my blood runs cold at what I see.
It is like a sacred sanctuary. A shrine even. I take a hesitant step into the room, my breath hitching as my eyes roam over the space. The walls are lined with the photographs moved from the hall, all depicting men with sharp features and piercing gazes. Each photograph has a nameplate beneath it: Herbert, Hector, Hudson, Hunter… etc. Directly in front of me is a huge H symbol written in cursive, which I remember was engraved on the yacht we got on.
He really played me, and I fell for his every move, I say to myself.
There are many strange things I see in the room, and merely standing by the door sends shivers down my spine. I know I shouldn’t be in here, so I withdraw at once, shutting the door. I take a deep breath, walking down the hall. It is all true, but I cannot tell why he lied to me, and it makes me madder than I can imagine, coupled with the fact he hasn’t texted me back. He is nothing but a manipulating liar, and I cannot see beyond that.
“June?” I hear my name as soon as I step into the living area, and I turn to the left to see Hiram standing by the stairs.