Chapter 208: Clues
The infirmary fell into silence as we digested the news.
"The severance took less than an hour?" Blaise asked, shaking his head. "I find that hard to believe. Darach isn’t some young pup that just got his wolf!"
"That’s because it didn’t take an hour. It has been happening for a long time." Nicole sucked in a breath, and continued to speak. "Darach’s connection to his wolf was already weak to begin with, possibly from years of wolfsbane poisoning. This severance couldn’t have happened in the span of an hour, if we are looking at an ordinary bond between man and wolf."
"It was already a fraying rope, and Alpha Thorton merely delivered the final blow. Darach must have used every bit of his strength of the connection to reach you in the hopes that he could save himself. Now, his inner wolf is hanging on by the thread, which is why his healing will be slow."
"So... he’s practically a human now, because his father did this to him on purpose," I said numbly as I tried to make sense of Nicole’s words.
Alpha Thorton had done this to his own flesh and blood― he had poisoned him to weaken him. I stared down at Darach, feeling so sorry for him.
If there was someone with a father that was on par with, or worse than my own dad, it would be Darach.
"Yes," Nicole said with a heavy sigh. "If not his father, then it must be someone else close to him that wanted him gone."
"Dahlia?" I asked hesitantly.
"Possibly, since she would be Thunderstrike’s new alpha if Darach wasn’t in the running," Blaise said. "But from what we’ve observed from her, she isn’t the type to scheme so carefully."
"No matter what, he has to be kept alive," Damon growled out. "If he dies on our territory, Alpha Thorton can claim we were the ones that injured and killed him. He needs to wake up so we can clear our names."
"Yes, Alpha Damon, I understand," Nicole said. "I’ll do all I can to ensure that he wakes up soon."
***
There was nothing we could do to help Nicole with her job, so I decided to return to my rooms, while Blaise and Damon busied themselves with Hornstead’s imminent food delivery. Now that Blaise was no longer on the verge of death, I had the time to lay out all the spoils of my little trip to the old house near Everhaven.
My mother’s old photo. Her necklace. The strange silver urn. The flash of light from the second floor of the house. Gus being a vampire. Elise, the hunter, claiming that we were cousins.
All signs pointed to my mother being a hunter. Did my father have her killed because he only found out afterwards when she left him, or did he already know from the very beginning?
There was no one I could ask. I looked hopefully at the back of the photo for any scribble that could give me a clue, but it was depressingly blank. My only clue was that silver urn. I turned the urn around, of course, there was nothing inscribed on the bottom. My life would be too easy if it was.
I had to open it up. Gus couldn’t open it up with his vampire strength, but then he could have also been pretending he was incapable in order to fool me. I couldn’t manage to open it before, but now that I had increased strength and more time, things would be different.
I twisted the lid. It shifted, but only by a miniscule amount.
There was that strange unidentified substance still stuck at the lid, so I decided to run it under tap water, to see if it would wash off.
Was it my imagination, or did the water turn the slightest hint of brown? I frowned in disgust as I cleaned it up again, looking at the towel for traces of brown. There wasn’t much. The water didn’t wash enough of it to weaken its hold on the lid.
True enough, when I made another attempt to open it, there wasn’t much difference. I gathered my courage and took a cautious sniff; to my surprise, it wasn’t rust or dried blood that I smelled, which left me one final guess.
This was hardened tree sap. No water would be able to dislodge it― only fire would work. I had to heat it up until it melted enough for me to pry open the lid. With that in mind, I made my way to the kitchens, urn in hand.
"Miss Harper, what are you doing here?" the old cook asked worriedly as he came over to me.
The kitchen was nearly empty, save for a few werewolves skulking around, looking none too happy at my presence.
"If you’re hungry, I’m sorry but you have to wait till dinner is served to eat. We’re still rationing our food," he explained apologetically, wrinkles deepening as his eyebrows furrowed together. "No exceptions."
"Jeeves, aren’t you wasting your breath explaining things to her?" One of the men scowled heavily. "While we’ve been starving here, this human has been out eating good with our alpha and beta. I bet you anything she’s been stuffing herself with Thunderstrike’s delicacies while Alpha Damon and Beta Blaise suffer!"
I rolled my eyes. Clearly the events of what went on in Thunderstrike were not broadcasted to the rest of the pack, so of course no one knew the role I played in making sure their new Luna wasn’t a goddamn lunatic slave driver.
"Kyle, be polite," Jeeves whispered frantically. With my enhanced hearing, I could hear every word that fell from his lips. "This woman is Beta Blaise’s fated mate!"
"Hunger must be making you cranky," I addressed Kyle and the rest of the loitering wolves. "Rest assured, if things go as planned, there will be food soon."
"No shit! You don’t say," Kyle replied, voice thick with sarcasm. "Things were always going to plan until you showed up. It was you who caused Everhaven to not give us food to begin with!"
