Chapter 185

Agnes

The pack headquarters’ courtyard was unusually quiet today. Normally, Gertrude and I would be sitting at our usual table, sharing lunch and gossip while the sun warmed our shoulders. But she’d called out sick this morning, which left me eating alone.

I didn’t mind the solitude, though. It gave me a chance to dig deeper into the book on elementals that Elijah and I had checked out from the library yesterday. I’d been too anxious to read it last night, too afraid of what I might find, but the daylight made the whole thing seem less threatening somehow.

I unwrapped my sandwich and balanced the heavy book on my lap, dusting a few pink blossoms off my shoulder that had fallen from the tree above me.

Most of what I’d read so far wasn’t new information. Basic history about how elementals had once been crucial to pack survival before modern amenities made their powers less necessary. How the gifts had slowly bred out of most bloodlines over time. None of this was a secret; it was a part of our history, an important part, and even Thea would soon learn about it in school in a couple of years.

But then I came across a chapter I hadn’t noticed before: “The Elemental Sages.”

I took a bite of my sandwich, chewing the ham and cheese slowly as I read. According to the text, elemental abilities required careful training and guidance from older, more experienced elementals called Sages.

That made sense, of course.

Each elemental type had its own Sage—an elder who had fully mastered their gift and could teach younger elementals to control and direct their powers. Without a Sage’s guidance, novice elementals often struggled to harness their abilities.

And if elementals didn’t learn how to properly harness their abilities, they could unintentionally harm themselves or others.

My stomach clenched at that last part. Unintentional harm. Like burned hands, scorched grass, seared flesh… or worse. I shuddered slightly, trying not to imagine all of the horrible things that Lyra had done before she was ironically killed by the very thing she wielded as a weapon.

I flipped the page, hoping for some kind of solution, some technique I could use to control whatever was happening to me. But the next section only described the elaborate ceremonies used to select new Sages when the old ones died, and the special quarters they were given within pack territories.

I sighed, closing the book with more force than necessary. Well, that wasn’t very helpful. There hadn’t been any elementals in over two hundred years, which meant there definitely weren’t any Sages left to teach me how to control these strange heat surges.

If I was somehow an elemental and wasn’t completely mistaken about all of this, then I’d have to figure it out on my own.

Fantastic.

Just then, the sound of a clearing throat ripped me out of my reverie. I looked up, expecting to see one of my coworkers or maybe Elijah coming to check on me.

Instead, I found myself staring at my father.

I quickly shoved the book into my bag before he could see the title. The last thing I needed was for him to know about my potential elemental abilities. He and my stepmother would probably find some way to use that information against me.

“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to hide my hostility. He’d lost the right to my politeness seven years ago when he’d thrown me out on the street, wolfless and grieving. Giving me a ride to Thea’s recital wouldn’t even come close to fixing that.

“Is that any way to greet your father?” he asked mildly, as if we were just two normal family members having a casual encounter.

“It is when my father hasn’t given a shit about me for years,” I shot back. “Again, what do you want? Looking for praise or a gift or something in exchange for that ride you gave me the other day?”

He didn’t flinch at my tone, just lowered himself onto the bench beside me as if I’d invited him to join me. I scooted further away, making sure no part of me was touching him.

“I saw what happened at the festival yesterday,” he said after a moment. “The scorched grass.”

My blood ran cold, but I kept my expression as neutral as possible. “What about it?”

“That wasn’t friction.” His eyes fixed on me with uncomfortable intensity. “We both know that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, wrapping up the remains of my sandwich. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling very hungry anymore.

My father reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small white rectangle. A business card. He held it out to me.

“Call me if you want to talk,” he said.

I stared at the card without taking it. “Why would I want to talk to you, of all people, about anything?”

“I don’t have an answer for that,” he said simply. When I still didn’t reach for the card, he placed it on the bench between us and stood up. “The choice is yours, Agnes. But know that my door is open if you need me.”

And then he was walking away.

I waited until he was out of sight before I picked up the card. It was thick, high-quality cardstock with his name and phone number embossed in silver. Typical. Even his business cards had to scream wealth and privilege.

The nerve of him, showing up here like this. After years of silence, years of pretending I didn’t exist, now he wanted to talk? Now he was suddenly interested in my life? Now his door was open while it had been closed the entire time I really needed help all those years ago?

It was obvious why. My wolf was returning, and I was married to an Alpha now. My father had always been obsessed with status—it was why he’d remarried so quickly after my mother died, why he’d been so ashamed of me when I lost my wolf.

Now that I was regaining what he considered “value,” he wanted to come back into my life.

It was likely that he wanted something from me. Access to Elijah, maybe, or some business deal with the pack. Maybe my stepmother put him up to it. He had been her pawn for a long time.

“Fuck that,” I muttered. I tore the card in half, then quarters, then eighths, until it was nothing but confetti. Then, I chucked the pile right into the trash and made my way back to my office, deciding to forget about the whole conversation.

I was just setting my things down on my desk when a small folded piece of paper on my keyboard caught my eye. I picked it up, unfolding it carefully. The handwriting was Elijah’s.

“Meet me at Vincenzo’s at 7. Just the two of us. I’ve arranged for James to watch Thea. - E”

Despite my sour mood, a small smile tugged at my lips. Vincenzo’s was one of the nicest restaurants in town. The thought of spending an evening there with my husband, away from the chaos of my life, was exactly what I needed. A date.

I tucked the note into my pocket and finished up my work for the day.

After work, I stopped at home just long enough to change out of my work clothes and into a simple black dress that Elijah had always liked. The neckline was modest but the hemline wasn’t, and the way the fabric hugged my curves always drew his eye. I piled my hair on top of my head and threw on a pair of dangling earrings, then headed out.

By the time I pulled up to the restaurant, my earlier anger had mostly dissipated.

The restaurant was busy, as always, but I spotted Elijah immediately. He was seated at a table near the back, away from the windows and the main dining area, where it was more private. As I approached, I could see that he was already nursing a glass of red wine.

But when he looked up at me, the solemn expression on his face made my smile fade.