Chapter 13 - Jonah

He was starting to get into the rhythm of things. His apartment was no longer bare walls and empty surfaces, sporting a few pieces of art he'd picked up from local artists and a scatter of books across anything flat. It was beginning to feel less like a motel and more like a home, like a place he was putting down roots.

He still felt a pull to the White Winter pack. Devon and Beth had reached out to check in on him but he couldn't find the words to express everything he was feeling, the way he was twisting and fraying like rope stretched too far. So he hadn't responded to their message.

It sat at the back of his mind, demanding a response, but the words wouldn't come. Telling them he was leaving would be letting them down. Leaving would be letting the Silversands down. All he wanted was a choice that wouldn't hurt anyone, but he was beginning to realize it didn't exist. So he buried himself in the routine and tried to pretend the decisions would wait forever.

Each morning, he woke before the sun to be at the cafe for six o'clock, turning on the espresso machines and brewing the first pots of coffee for the early morning crowd. Those interactions were brief, with people getting their coffees to go and hard hats under their arms. For the most part, Silversand supported a blue-collar population and a handful of starving artists types, sharing beach shacks.

Before his father ran it to the ground, there was a thriving community there. It had been the sort of place people visited on vacation and never wanted to leave. If he became alpha, he would have to find a way to bring it back to that point.

Self-doubt ran like an undercurrent through his thoughts as he steamed milk and poured shots. Maybe Evans was the better choice for alpha. He had no history with the place, but that could be a good thing, a blank slate for the pack. Jonah couldn't let his need to make up for his father's mistakes override the decision to do what was, ultimately, best for the pack. If it turned out Evans was the best fit, he'd back down and support him.

"You're just saying that because he likes books as much as you do." Evelyn's voice rang out through the coffee shop in the sudden quiet after Jonah finished steaming the milk.

She had her back to Jonah, and he realized she was talking to Rami. Rami was sitting at one of the tables, nursing a pot of tea. He caught Jonah's eye and winced.

Obviously, they were talking about him, and judging by Evelyn's tone, she didn't have much of anything nice to say. Not that he could blame her. He would never fault someone for disliking him based on his last name alone. Half the time, he didn't like himself for the same reason.

Still, if he was going to stay in Silversand, and his connection with Moira was making that more and more likely, he needed to make an effort to befriend people, especially pack members. He wandered over, bringing a refill for Rami's teapot.

They were back in conversation, but their voices pitched low, so he could only make out what they were saying when he got closer.

"And he just shows up now ? After the hell his father put us through? Like, come on. He thinks he's going to swoop in and—"

"Oh, hi, Jonah," Rami said loudly, cutting Evelyn off.

She spun around, glaring at Jonah. "Were your ears burning?"

Jonah set the teapot down. "Call it a sixth sense. I take it I don't have your vote for alpha then, Evelyn?"

Evelyn snorted. "I think maybe you're fine as a person, maybe. Moira seems to have come around. But you ditched the pack when things were going downhill. At least Evans never did that."

"Well, yeah," Rami piped in, "Evans never had the chance to. He might've done the exact same thing, in Jonah's shoes."

Shooting him a withering look, Evelyn went on. "You're a White Winter now. I gave you the benefit of the doubt when I thought you were just passing through for your father's funeral, but it's a whole different thing when you're planning to stay. How can you think you're fit to lead a pack that you abandoned?"

It hit too close to home. She was voicing all of the doubts he'd been having, and he didn't have answers for her any more than he had them for himself.

"I'm sorry for abandoning the pack. After my mother died and my father lost himself, I felt… helpless here. I couldn't watch him self-destruct; maybe if I'd tried harder, I could've stopped it from happening. But I didn't." Jonah knew it must have felt like a double blow to the pack, losing their alpha's son.

"So you're a little self-aware," Evelyn said, crossing her arms. "But that doesn't fix things."

"No," he agreed. "It doesn't. But I know the history of the pack, I know its ups and downs, and I think, if I get the chance, I'm the one that knows how to put it back together."

Rami cleared his throat, and they both turned to look at him. He pushed his glasses up his nose, seemingly uncomfortable with the focused attention. "I think you can do it. Evans has been helpful, and he seems like a nice guy, but he's new. He doesn't know this place like we do."

Jonah kept his thoughts to himself. He didn't like Evans but knew it had more to do with seeing him dancing with Moira than with anything else. He couldn't let his jealousy overrule his common sense, even if he'd had his hands on Jonah's mate. And, he reminded himself with a pang, since his dealings with Moira were just business, she had every right to take an actual lover if she wanted to. He couldn't claim her like that.

"You'd rather have someone that turned their back on the pack than someone doing their best for it now?" Evelyn said, incredulous. She threw up her hands. "I can't believe you, Rami. Liking him as a person is totally different from trusting him with the pack. Especially with whatever is going on with the Rosewoods right now."

Rami's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "I hope they find whoever it is soon. It's only a matter of time before things get ugly."

"What do you mean?" Jonah asked.

"Well," said Rami, setting his teacup down and lacing his fingers together in front of him, like a professor settling in for a lecture. "You've got the Silversands in turmoil and someone targeting the Rosewoods. For some reason, it's either a Silversand looking for an edge on the Rosewoods or someone in the Rosewoods looking to end the alliance between the two packs."

"Maybe because the Silverands are already weak," Evelyn chimed in with a jabbing look at Jonah, "this could be the perfect time to take us out completely. Then the Rosewoods could have the whole stretch of land all the way to the coast."

"A really suspicious mind, huh?" Jonah eyed her. "What if it's just some bored kid?"

Evelyn and Rami shook their heads.

"You're too trusting. No, this is targeted. We just need to figure out why," Evelyn said. "And that's on you, big man."

She stalked out of the coffee shop, pouring herself a cup of dark black roast behind the bar before leaving, even though her shift wasn't until that evening. Rami sighed once she was out of earshot.

"She's a lot, I'm sorry," he said, pushing the chair out with his foot for Jonah to sit. "I have something to tell you."

Jonah slid into the seat and leaned forward, intrigued by Rami's conspiratorial tone.

"There was a mark scratched into the door of the bookshop this morning and claw marks all over it, like someone attacked it overnight." He took his glasses off and polished them on his shirt, peering at the glass. "It was the White Winter mark."

Jonah sat back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, watching his day go from bad to worse. "Did they break anything?"

Rami shook his head. "I think they tried to get in, but it's a pretty solid door, and you know old Alice lives right next door. She'd be out there with a bat if she heard something late at night, and no one wants to get on her bad side."

A White Winter sigil was carved into the bookstore's door. Someone was trying to pin this on him. Someone wanted Jonah chased out of town. Unfortunately, the list of people with a vendetta against Jonah could be a mile long, starting with Evelyn and ending with Moira. It wasn't helpful to narrow it down.

"And you don't think it was me?" Jonah couldn't resist asking.

Rami was the closest thing he'd made to a friend since moving to Silversand, other than Moira, and he didn't want to lose the connection he'd built with him. He might be his only ally in his bid for alpha.

"No, of course not. You'd have to be really diabolical for that," Rami considered. "Come back and finish the Silversand pack off by turning the Rosewoods into enemies?"

Jonah slumped his head into his hands. "Oh man, don't let Evelyn overhear you saying that. It sounds too plausible for her to ever forget it."

"Someone wants us to believe it's you, though," Rami said.

"That's what I was thinking."

Jonah thought of Moira's sister, Vera. Originally, she'd wanted Jonah to stick around in hopes that it would drive Moria away, and push her into the future Vera imagined for her. But now that Jonah was thinking of staying, had her plans changed? With Moira and Jonah mates, she'd have to drive both of them away to push Moira out of this town.

It was possible, if unlikely, and he wasn't sure how he'd be able to delicate question either of the sisters about Vera's possible involvement without stirring up more trouble. The other trail led to Evans. Evans wanted to be alpha, but would he stoop to eliminating his competition to make it happen?

He filed both of those possibilities away, not ready to share his thoughts with Rami just yet. If he started accusing Evans without solid evidence, people would just think he was jealous of the competition. Jonah needed more to go on, first.

"Can you do me a favor and cover up the sigil before too many people see it?" Jonah asked, cringing. "I'll come over and repair it after work."

"Already done," Rami said. "I hung a big sign on the door, promising a half-off sale today only." He looked at his watch and stood up. "Speaking off, I gotta get going. See you later, Jonah."

"See ya," Jonah said, clearing the teapot and cups away.

The second his shift was over, Jonah was out the door. He barely waited for Evelyn to tie her apron on before leaving, earning another glare from her, but he had no time to waste. It was a short walk over to Rami's bookshop, and he took it at a jog. The sign was still up, and a few people were browsing inside. Jonah promised himself he could grab two books once his work was done on the door.

"Got a toolbox I can borrow?" He asked Rami after he rang up a set of customers.

"Sure thing, let me grab it." Rami went in the back and came back with an old, beat-up toolbox that was overflowing and unable to close. "It's been back there for ages but it should have everything you need to fix it up. Thanks for doing it. I'm not very handy, honestly."

Jonah couldn't imagine the slim, scholarly man lifting much more than a fountain pen. "No problem. I'll have to remove the door, but it's a nice enough day."

He set to work, sanding and repairing the scratches gouged into the wood. Rami was right about the sigil; it was the mark of the White Winter pack etched boldly across the door. It felt good to work, to grind away the damage, sweat prickling his brow.

Rami brought out a can of paint that matched the forest green already on the door, and Jonah brushed it on, the paintbrush in his hand ringing back memories of working on the lighthouse with Moira. They needed to head back and finish it soon, but he knew the incident had spooked her. She wouldn't feel comfortable there until the culprit was caught.

"Aren't you a handyman," a woman said from behind him, her voice similar enough to Moira's that he knew it was Vera before she turned around. "What happened?"

He eyed her, remembering his suspicions from earlier. "Just helping out a friend. What are you doing in this part of town?"

"Just visiting the beach. Don't forget, I was a Silversand once." She nodded at the toolbox. "A lot of tools just for some new paint."

Did she know what had happened to the door already? Was she coming by to check her handiwork and make sure it was having the impact she'd hoped for? It was impossible to read her face, yet unlike Moira's, it was all hard angles and sharp lines.

Subtly, he tried to inspect her nails, looking for any that might have broken off during the assault on the door, but she kept them tucked under her arms. "You know these old buildings," he said, turning back to his work, "nothing is ever simple."

She didn't take the hint and move on. "Is it true what Moira said? That the soothsayer called you fated mates? Or is that just part of your plan to get what you want out of her?"

"It's the truth. We're fated to be together," he said, his chest warming at the words. "And it's tied, somehow, to the future of the Silversands. Moira is meant to be here, Vera. She's meant to be a part of this place."

Vera's lip curled as she looked around at the shabby street with its dilapidated buildings and empty homes. "Only the best for her, huh? Some prince charming."

With that, she left, and Jonah was no closer to figuring out whether she'd had a part in the latest vandalism. It was suspicious, her dropping by the day after it had happened, but it wasn't enough to base anything on. Not enough to bring it up to Moira.

He left the door to dry and stepped inside the bookshop, deciding to pursue his other idea. Rami was alone, and the shop cleared out.

"Hey Rami, what can you tell me about Evans?"

Closing his book, Rami looked up. "Hmm. Well, he came in about five years ago and settled in quickly. Said he came from a pack down the coast that had fallen apart and was looking for a new place. We needed the members, so no one had any objections."

"And that's all we know about him?" Jonah sighed, but he shouldn't have been surprised. It's not as though they'd done background checks on the wolves joining the White Winter pack. Anyone who'd wanted to had gotten in.

Rami shifted, uncomfortable. Jonah realized he was holding something back, something he didn't want to say. "Well, there's more to the story, but it's just rumor, really."

"What is it?" Jonah pressed. He lowered his voice when a customer came in but wasn't ready to let it go. Whatever it was, it might be a clue.

"I really don't want to be the one to tell you this," Rami whispered. "It's probably not even true."

Jonah waited, letting the silence build until Rami cracked.

"It's not something many people know about, but when he first came to the pack, he claimed to be the alpha's son."

Whatever Jonah had expected, it hadn't been that. A colorful past, a criminal background, maybe, but this? "He was pretending to be me?"

"No, not you. Like, another son. Your half-brother, I guess." Rami flipped open a book, flicked through the pages, and then shut it again. "It seems possible, but no one could say one way or another. He kind of looks like your dad, I guess? I could see why some people might believe it. After all, your dad wasn't really the most standup guy. Sorry."

Jonah waved his hand, dismissing the apology. "You're right, he wasn't."

But this was another level. Judging by appearances, Evans was a few years older than Jonah. It would have meant his father had cheated on his mother, back when they'd seemed so happy together, back before things had fallen apart. Could it have been that affair that had driven his mother away?

"I should go help her," Rami said, scurrying over to the customer.

He wondered how many others knew about this rumor. In light of that, Evans's bid for alpha made more sense; he had a claim on the spot just like Jonah did.

Needing fresh air, Jonah went back outside and checked the paint on the door. Still tacky, but nearly dry enough to rehang. He wanted to be home where he could think straight, process everything he'd just heard, but he had to finish here first.

"Damn it, Dad," he muttered, deciding to risk it and hang the door.

He knew where he had to go next. Not back to his apartment but home, to where his father's memories and keepsakes waited, and the secrets he'd kept were hidden. Maybe Jonah could find the truth there.

"Oh, you're here."

Moira stood at the end of the walkway beneath the overhanging vines. Her smile wiped away his other thoughts. She looked nervous, hands wringing in front of her.

"You're off early," he said, checking the time.

"Well, I was looking for you and couldn't wait. Can we talk?" She bit her lip, waiting for his answer.

"Of course." He eased the door closed, making sure it swung properly, before joining her at the gate. Whatever she had to say, he had the sense that it wasn't going to be good. Bags circled beneath her eyes, stark purple against her paleness.

Jonah readied himself for another blow, wondering when they would finally stop coming.