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I quickly adjust Phoebe, rushing to make sure she’s correctly buckled in so that I can see him properly, this time. I slam the door closed, but when I look back at the spot he was standing in, he’s gone. My eyes rake over the area, trying to spot the familiar blond hair, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Another hallucination, then.
“What’s wrong, Maia?” Patrick asks, sniffing the air deeply through the passenger window of the police car.
“Nothing. I was just checking that I closed the bedroom window,” I murmur, and he nods as I get into my car. I push all thoughts of Ryan out of my mind and follow the police car in front of me as we head to get answers.
My daughter may not be human… but, on the positive side, this might all still be a hallucination.
3
MAIA
“Luna Wolfe, this is the woman I told you about. Maia Blake and her daughter Phoebe,” Patrick introduces. “And, Maia, this is Julie Wolfe. She’s our pack’s luna and will help you figure things out with Phoebe.”
My legs are shaking as I clutch Phoebe’s car seat closer to me, praying that we get invited into the house soon because my teeth are starting to chatter.
My car is parked a few feet away, just off her driveway, and we’re standing on the small pavement outside her front door. Most of her front garden is grass, with beautiful flowers despite the fading winter, and I can only imagine how well-tended and pretty it’ll be in the summer.
“Maia, why don’t you come inside?” Luna Wolfe says, opening her door wider, with a warm smile. She’s a gorgeous woman, with short, dark brown hair, and a peaceful sort of vibe around her. I thought I’d be put off by her being a wolf, but she has the sort of aura that draws you in and makes you feel welcome.
Even if I am slightly nervous.
She’s wearing a pale pink summer dress, despite it being the beginning of March and quite cold outside. There’s a small tattoo of a grey wolf on her right forearm, and her ears are pierced once, with a small diamond—or diamanté—stud in them.
She’s elegant and so poised. Despite her warmth, there seems to be an assessing look in her eyes.
“I can only imagine how badly you’re struggling,” Julie Wolfe continues, keeping that sweet smile in place. “Your daughter is gorgeous. How old is she?”
“Five days old,” I whisper, and she tuts at Patrick, who hangs his head in shame. It seems she’s not here to blame me for not knowing about all of this… at least not yet.
“Shame on you, Pat. We could’ve gone to her to save dragging them out in this weather,” Julie says with a sigh.
“Shame on me?” he gasps, but I don’t hear the reply as we’re taken inside the house, and he was clearly not invited in. I hold Phoebe’s car seat close to myself to avoid banging her into their things. This time not at the risk of disturbing my daughter’s sleep but because everything in the passageway looks so expensive I’m terrified to damage anything.
Her living room looks like a showroom, but instead of cheap decorations, hers looks real, expensive, and old. The walls are painted a sage green, and there are lots of gorgeous plants that give off a natural edge to the environment. I can’t identify their kinds properly but wish I could since they smell so nice.
“Get yourself comfy,” Julie says, gesturing to the large, grey fabric sofa on one side of the room. There are two matching arm chairs, which I think recline.
She watches with an assessing eye as I get myself settled, and I tuck Phoebe in close to me.
“Like Patrick said, I’m Julie, and the man who has just come down to lecture Patrick is one of my husbands, George. We’re the only ones home today.” There’s a keen interest as she looks down at Phoebe, and it unsettles me. “Is the little one comfortable in there? Do you want me to get a Moses’s basket out for her?”
She moves from topic to topic so quickly but somehow does it with an air of grace that makes it seem normal.
“I’ll get her out, but she’ll just nap with me,” I say, completely overwhelmed. No matter how nice she seems, my nerves are rattled, and I think it’s going to take me a long while to truly process my new reality. “Thank you, though.”
“I’ll go make us something to drink, then. Tea? Coffee?”
“Um, a glass of water would be amazing,” I say, and she smiles before leaving.
I can’t hear her husband at the door, although it’s still open based on the bitter breeze, which is concerning. Is he telling Patrick off for how he handled things?
Can he do that as alpha?
How will he do that as alpha?
Julie returns by the time I’ve got Phoebe settled on my chest, and she places the glass of water on the coffee table in front of me. She doesn’t use a coaster despite how antique the table seems.
