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“She was wailing, and we couldn’t understand her. She was frantic, so I called Marco, and he sent me home. Marco then went out there with Mary. They found the entire pack dead, the women had killed them. Mary hid them out at the commune, and that’s where they stayed. When I went home that night, Floyd accused me of trying to run from him. He stopped me from seeing Mary. He had his men wait with me at the bakery. They never let me out of their sight unless I was with him.”
“So you never spoke to Mary again?” I ask her, but she shakes her head.
“No, I saw Mary, but I never saw Petra again after that until Mary went missing. One of his guards would sometimes sneak me out back to meet Mary. But once I aged, and he didn’t, he knew I could never outrun him. So he left me be. I was just more careful. I would see Mary first thing in the morning when I opened the bakery, and she would tell me about the girls.”
“It wasn’t until she went missing a few years ago that I started snooping and then Jake told me she left, but each time his story made a little less sense. Petra told me the same thing when I questioned her when I spotted her in town. I knew she would never abandon Petra. And I honestly thought Floyd was behind it. I thought he killed her and sold her shop without me knowing, but when Floyd discovered Petra was here, I knew nothing good would come of it,” she says, reaching for another smoke.
She lights it and sits back. “So I started poisoning him, bit by bit, until he was too weak to stop me. He started aging quickly, then slowly dying, until I eventually couldn’t make up excuses anymore. Marco kept asking questions. For a while, it worked because I knew most of Floyd’s contacts, and his men. But eventually, Marco insisted on talking to him. He came out here to check on me. I thought he would kill me when he found Floyd.”
“But he didn’t, obviously,” she chuckles.
“He said if only I did it sooner. Yet he was still my mate and I loved the bastard, but I wanted him to suffer for his crimes, so he did for years!”
“But once my crop died, I finished him and shot him while he slept. Marco helped me cover it up, and he is—” she points to the hill where a lone tombstone sits.
“Right there. Marco helped me bury him. Now you know what I feel guilty about. It was that I didn’t realize what a monster my husband was, what a monster Jake was until it was too late. I believed Jake blindly, thinking that it was Floyd.”
“Yeah, Jake even had me fooled, so you’re not alone there,” I tell her, chewing my lip.
“How does this link to my father?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. Just as my mother comes out to help the women with the cooking. Sondra looks at her, then drops her gaze to her hands.
“That’s a story for another day.” She says, and I look at my mother, who is carrying out some baked buns.
“Are you hungry, Sondra?” My mother asks.
“No, dear. I think I might take a nap,” Sondra tells her, and my brows furrow. Whatever she knew, she didn’t want to say it in front of my mother.
Sondra then gets up. She sways on her feet, and I stand to help her when she brushes me off.
“Go help the women,” she tells me, and I sigh.
“Do they know?” I ask Sondra, and she stops to look at me. I nod toward the women setting up for dinner.
“No, only Petra knew who I was and what I was to her father.” I nod my head, and she glances at them.
“This pack wasn’t just their fresh start, Elena. It was mine, too. My way of making it up to Petra, Mary, and Phaedra. They don’t need to know. It was also my way of making it up to you.” She tells me. I go to ask her what she means when I hear someone coming up behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Know what?” Noleen asks, coming up the steps and stopping behind me.
“That you and Michelle are on patrol after dinner at the front gate,” I chuckle, and she groans.
“Really? Can’t I go with Lacy? Michelle never shuts up! The girl could talk the legs off a donkey!” Noleen whines and I chuckle, getting up to help with dinner.
Everyone set out on patrol after dinner while I helped my mother and a few of the women clean up. Throughout dinner, I am distracted by what Sondra told me and the bond tugging frantically, craving our Axton. Even Lexa seems to be in a depressed mood.
My brief excitement at finally being home on my territory has dimmed quickly, but it also has me worried. Sondra is still hiding something, and we still have the issue of who the strigoi is or are. We aren’t even sure if it is one or a lair of them. Taking the trash to the bin, I toss the huge black bag in while my mother stacks the chairs back in the shed.
A few women stand around the bonfire, their children are roasting marshmallows while they stand around and chat. Walking back to my mother, I hear my phone ring and stop. Pulling it from my pocket, I glance at it. I see Axton’s name pop up on the screen in a video call and I can’t help the stupid grin that splits onto my face.
My mother glances at me, and I hold up the phone. “Take it. I will finish cleaning up.” She waves me away, and I turn to head for the house.
Answering it, I walk back inside, knowing he probably wants to see the boys. “Is everything alright out there?’ He asks as I climb the steps, heading for my room.
“Yep, the girls are running patrols, and the boys are asleep,” I tell him.
“Did you have a chance to speak to Sondra?” He asks, and I hold a finger to my lips. He nods once, and I head to my room, slipping inside, trying not to let the door creak and wake the boys and close the door.
