30. Thirty

thirty

W alter left to give us a minute alone. Penn caught me up, explaining he had brought me to Frann’s house after I blacked out at the temple. She had determined I needed a magical infusion from a fae, and there was only one fae she trusted with my life—Walter Stolly. Luckily for me, the magic-using mobster agreed to travel to the Snake Mountains and help out a wolf he didn’t even know.

“What about Evera and Grace? Are they okay?” I asked.

“Evera is home. She’s fine.” He smirked. “Pissed off. But fine.”

“And Grace?” I pressed, not loving how he’d purposely dodged the topic.

“She’s strong, Drake. Grace will be okay,” he promised.

“So she’s still locked up?” I stared down at my hands, already knowing the answer.

“For now,” Penn said. “I’m working on it.”

“Does Finneus know where I am?”

His nose twitched. “I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you mean, but he hasn’t sent out a search party looking for you, so I assume he’s aware.”

Nothing should have surprised me when it came to the interloper alpha, but I still couldn’t believe a man I’d considered a brother had stooped so low as to let a caster steal magic as a form of punishment. It was barbaric.

“I’m guessing your brother doesn’t know about our fae guest either?”

Penn shook his head. “No way. He would’ve sent Malia and the strays down here if he thought we were colluding with a fae.”

“What did you offer Walter in exchange for helping me?” I asked. “Your firstborn child?”

Penn’s jaw tightened. “You aren’t far off,” he admitted. “Walter said he’d settle up with you, once you were awake.”

Ugh. That sounded ominous.

“He’s eager to speak with you,” Penn added, a deep frown causing creases of displeasure between his brows. “A little too eager.”

I threw back the covers, and I realized I wore an unfamiliar house dress with a snowflake pattern. It hung just below my knees. Someone had pulled fuzzy socks halfway up my calves. They too had a winter wonderland theme.

“It’s Frann’s,” Penn explained. “Your dress got ruined on the way here.”

I looked down at the outfit. Not exactly the image I wanted to portray to Walter, but the dress and socks were warm and comfortable, and I didn’t want him to think I cared about his opinion. Frann might’ve trusted him, but I didn’t trust any fae.

I climbed out of bed and headed for the door.

“Drake?” Penn murmured as I passed him. “Who’s Zosia?”

My steps faltered. I’d anticipated this question since Walter said the name. It was why I was anxious to get out of the room and around other people who might make Penn think twice before asking. I knew it was time to come clean and tell him about the dreams, I just couldn’t find the right words.

“Not now, okay?” I left without looking back.

Penn followed me to the living room, where Walter and Frann sat sipping tea. She wore a smile so big it made my cheeks hurt just looking at her. She laughed at whatever story he was telling, and time fell away. I could imagine Frann in her twenties, all wide-eyed curiosity and innocence. A man like Walter Stolly with his dark nature and dangerous charm would’ve made her feel like she was living on the edge.

What I didn’t quite understand was how Frann appeared her actual age, while he had the visage of a man young enough to be her son. Possibly grandson, depending on the angle.

“How are you feeling?” Frann asked, pouring a mug of tea and handing it to me as I joined them.

“Well, thank you,” I replied.

Frann offered a cup to Penn who declined. He stood behind my chair, fingers curled around the back.

“You have Walter to thank. He was able to give you enough magic to keep you going until yours replenished,” Frann said to me.

I put on my most polite smile and faced Walter. “Thank you. I understand you want to discuss payment with me.”

“We’ll get there,” the fae assured me. “I hear you have some questions about a certain eternal protector. Let’s discuss that.” His gaze narrowed. “What is it you want to know?”

My pulse quickened. I hadn’t expected the conversation to start so pointedly and felt unprepared. “Diana was the first Ophiuchus alpha’s mate, right? I know she was turned into a vampire, but what happened to her after that? Is she still around?”

Walter continued to study me, a curious expression overtaking his features. “She was one half of the original alpha couple,” he said, choosing each word carefully.

The difference between our descriptions was subtle yet important. I’d grown up learning about the first alpha and his mate, who technically constituted the alpha couple. But Walter’s wording implied Diana had held power equal to her mate’s, and that wasn’t the case.

I didn’t correct him. Fae didn’t understand shifters and our pack structures. He could continue believing whatever he liked, it didn’t matter.

Steam wafted up from Walter’s mug, yet he took a long swallow like it was room temperature water. His gaze traveled back and forth between Penn and me.

“It’s complicated,” he said at last.

“You crossed an ocean to tell us that?” Penn asked.

Walter laughed loudly, which made Frann beam. “No. I crossed an ocean to save your girlfriend’s life.” The fae focused on me. “Diana died a true death. That much I know for certain.”

I felt both an immense sense of relief and profound disappointment. Coming face-to-face with a vampire wasn’t an enticing prospect. I’d never met one, and after my dream, I hoped that would remain true for the foreseeable future. Yet Diana was the only person with the entire truth about my pack and our history. Or she would’ve been if still walking the earth.

“How?” I asked Walter, not sure why it mattered yet curious at the same. “How did it end for her?”

Again, he took several long moments to search my face. “By choice.”

I frowned, taking an absurdly long time to understand. “You mean she killed herself?”

Penn tensed. I leaned back so his knuckles brushed the nape of my neck. My touch calmed him some.

Walter nodded. “In a manner of a speaking—yes.”

“How?” I asked again.

It was a morbid question, yet I needed to know.

“That I can’t answer,” Walter replied.

“Can’t or won’t?” Penn demanded.

“Can’t.” Walter’s expression turned to stone, and I saw the dangerous man that lurked beneath the charismatic exterior.

“Then how do you know she did?” I pressed.

He fixed his gaze on me. “Because Diana was eternal. They aren’t like other immortals. They can only die by their own hand.”

“What does that mean, exactly—to be eternal?” Penn wanted to know.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, making my heart pound painfully. I knew the answer before Walter gave an explanation. The two magic-using vampires from my dream and the wolf with the glowing red eyes—they were all eternals.

“Do you know how the fae chose the first wolves?” Walter adjusted to make himself more comfortable on the couch, like he was settling in for a long story.

This wasn’t a lesson taught in our schools, or even something passed down through the generations. My father never spoke of logistics when it came to the founding of our pack, only that the fae anointed the original alpha, who then bonded with his true mate to lead the Ophiuchus wolves.

“A competition,” Penn said. “The fae held a contest to find the strongest and bravest among them.”

Cold, clammy fingers tickled my spine. My dream about Diana taking part in challenges—that was the competition that had led to her transformation from fae to shifter. How did Penn know about that?

“The spell the fae used on the winners, those they deemed alpha material—it had, let’s call it a caveat,” Water said. “It contained some choice language only ever used in one other spell.” He paused for dramatic effect. “The immortality spell. They didn’t realize what that could mean. No one expected these newly minted protectors would be turned into vampires.”

It was a lot to process. I opened and closed my mouth several times, unable to wrap my mind around the information.

“What does one have to do with the other?” I asked.

Walter’s lips spread into a slow grin. “The immortality spell wasn’t about making vampires. It enables a soul to reincarnate. All thirteen of the original alpha wolves share that dark ability.” His gaze bore into mine. “So, to answer one of your first questions—is Diana around? She may very well be. She’s come back around at least a few times over the centuries. And lately, an unprecedented number of eternals have been showing up. If I were a betting man—and I am—I’d put money on Diana making an appearance.”

My mind fixated on just one line: She’s come back around at least a few times over the centuries.

“How many times?” I demanded, panic rising in my throat like bile. “How many times has Diana reincarnated?”

Penn’s hand settled on my shoulder, but no amount of his assurance would calm me in that moment.

“Three, maybe four.” Walter remained calm in the face of my mounting hysteria.

“Which is it?” I snapped. “Three or four?”

Penn rubbed his thumb across the nape of my neck. The smile finally fell from Frann’s lips as she clearly caught on to my train of thought. After Diana, three other white wolves lived to adulthood, including myself. One additional white wolf was born but died young.

“Do I look like the keeper of reincarnated souls?” Walter deadpanned.

His gangster-masquerading-as-a-reputable-businessman look definitely didn’t make me believe he wasn’t the keeper of reincarnated souls. He also knew more Ophiuchus history than I did, and I began to wonder how much he’d witnessed firsthand. He wasn’t a vampire, though he didn’t age like a mortal either.

“Did you know any of her incarnations?” Frann asked.

Walter shook his head. “No. Diana’s one I haven’t encountered before personally. My brother had an…acquaintance with Desmona, who claimed to be Diana.”

Nothing in my dreams of Desmona the Desperate had suggested a connection to Diana, except for the mention of Zosia. Desmona had sent one of her daughters to Zosia. Diana had competed against a girl with the same name for the honor of becoming a shifter.

My mouth went dry. I sipped my tea, swallowing hard around the lump in my throat. Walter had also said the name and implied Zosia was currently around.

The name was too uncommon for it to be coincidence.

“Based on what?” Penn asked, continuing to massage my tense neck muscles. “Why did she think she was Diana reincarnated?”

“Now that’s an interesting one.” Walter had a twinkle in his eye as though pleased someone had thought to ask this very question. “The eternals I’ve met don’t usually remember their past lives until they turn. Desmona never turned, not as far as I know.”

No, she didn’t , I thought, recalling her mortal death with vivid clarity.

“There are a few ways to force the memories,” Walter continued.

Frann pursed her lips, a slight flare of her nostrils. Clearly she didn’t approve of eliciting memories.

“Like what?” I demanded.

“Drinking another eternal’s blood is not uncommon,” Walter replied without missing a beat.

Most people hesitated to give me unpleasant news. Even Penn often required coaxing before he told me something I didn’t want to hear. I found our guest’s brutal honesty almost refreshing.

Maybe it was just that I liked his answer. I hadn’t consumed any vampire blood, so my dreams were just that.

“That’s what you believe happened to Desmona?” Penn asked.

Walter shrugged. “Let’s call it a well-researched theory.”

“Are there other ways to trigger the memories?” Penn asked as though plucking the question from my own thoughts.

“I imagine certain spells could do it,” Frann suggested, looking to Walter for confirmation.

“There are some, yes,” he agreed.

Malia hadn’t arrived until after the dreams started. Before her, no caster had set foot in the Snake Mountains during my lifetime.

“They can be dicey and, unless they include eternal blood, unreliable,” Walter went on. “There are tonics that can guide an eternal’s dreams, but I don’t know about triggering them.”

Until that point, no one had mentioned how the memories came. There had been no talk of dreams. It was easy to lie to myself, to hide the reason behind this mounting sense of dread. With one word Walter had forced me to face the truth.

“What about something of magical significance, like a celestial event?” Penn pressed.

I didn’t want Walter to answer. It would be the final nail in my coffin of denial. My dreams of the past had started just after the twin comets passed in the night sky.

Walter considered. “It’s possible.”

“Do you have another possible explanation?” Penn asked, voice dripping with irritation.

The fae sighed. “Depends.” His eyes darted back and forth between Penn and me as if debating which way to direct his quid pro quo offer. He must’ve decided I made the more willing or desperate target. “Tell me this, Drake. Your interest in Diana and the supposed curse of the white wolves your pack so fervently believes in—it’s because you are one, yes?”

My expression confirmed the assumption, or maybe it was my inability to respond.

“The dreams started the night of the comets.” It was a statement, not a question, and Walter’s gaze shifted away from me when he spoke.

Penn’s hand stilled. Tension filled the air.

The fae laughed so hard he sounded like a braying donkey. “You never change. I thought for a second you had, with all that talk about her being stronger than she looks.”

A deep growl made the entire house shake with Penn’s anger—or was it fear?

“You want know how Diana killed herself?” Walter’s focus swung back to me. “Ask your boyfriend. The way I hear it, he was there.”

I didn’t recall shifting or leaving the warm, suffocating indoors in favor of wide-open spaces and frigid temperatures. One second, I sat in Frann’s living room with Penn’s lies staring me in the face. The next, I was barreling through the mountains on four paws. I gave myself over to my wolf, giving her complete control for the first time in my life.

She ran like we were free, like Finneus wouldn’t send his dogs to hunt us down once he learned we were on the loose. She didn’t worry about Evera and what had become of my best friend. My wolf had little concern for anything aside from our mutual panic.

Penn had made me trust him. Even after he’d backed Finneus’ coup, the asshole had gained my trust. I’d let fear blind me to the secrets he kept. He knew I wanted to know about Diana’s vampiric life and death, yet he’d hidden his firsthand knowledge.

“Hypocrite,” a voice rumbled in my head.

My legs pumped harder. I couldn’t hear his paws over the wind, but I felt Penn growing closer with each passing breath. His wolf was nearly twice the size of mine, and somehow, he still managed to move with extraordinary speed. I had no hope of outrunning him.

Then, I decided I didn’t want to. Penn might’ve outranked me, and he was a much better fighter even on his worse day. All I had was my fury, and that was enough for me to stand my ground.

I skidded to a stop, snow arcing through the air, and snarled at the man I’d thought I was falling for. Penn crashed toward me, golden eyes flashing with anger that rivaled my own.

He came to a dead stop five feet in front of me. Power emanated off him like the true alpha he once was. An invisible hand pressed between my shoulder blades, urging me to bow to his authority. I gritted my teeth. His power rippled across my fur.

“Let’s talk, Drake. Like adults,” he growled.

Yes. That would’ve been the civilized route. Maybe it was my fight with Paula, or Walter’s magic, or finally understanding my connection to Diana—but I wasn’t feeling particularly classy.

I launched myself at him. Penn managed to dodge the hit. When I went at him a second time, he swatted me away with one large paw.

“Drake, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself,” he snapped in my head.

“You’ve already stabbed me in the back. How much worse could it get?” I hissed, barreling at the much larger wolf a third time.

The venom in my voice tripped him up just enough. His brief hesitation gave me the opportunity to land a blow with my shoulder to his side. Sadly, I bounced backward, as opposed to knocking him to the ground as intended.

“You’re going to take the word of a sketchy fae without hearing my side of the story?” Penn demanded. “He is the head of organized crime in the supernatural world. He lies a dozen times before he has morning coffee.”

Had I been capable of surfacing from the pool of anger I was drowning in, I might have conceded he had a point. But I couldn’t. So I didn’t. I sank deeper into the darkness and scrambled to my feet.

“He has no reason to lie about this,” I panted, attempting another attack.

This time, Penn let me hit him, absorbing the worst of my blow with his massive shoulder. Once again, I took the brunt of the collision. Dazed and seeing spots, climbing to my feet took longer than before. Penn could’ve gone on the offense but chose to take the high road.

His calm, controlled anger made my blood boil.

“And I do?” His eyes bore into mine.

“Did you see me in your dreams? Did you know I was Diana?”

We locked gazes, each of us daring the other to blink first. He had me so worked up, I honestly didn’t know how I hoped he’d respond.

“Better question—when did you plan to tell me I played a starring role in yours?”