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“Now tell me what’s got you all twisted up in knots.”
I stared at her, unsure of where to begin.
“I’m putting you in a really awkward position by telling you this,” I breathed. “But you’re my only friend in the world, Etta.”
Etta smiled gently. “You can tell me anything, honey. You know that.”
I hung my head. “I don’t think that’s true in this case…”
“Nonsense. If it’s about Orson, well, I think you know by now I don’t mix business and personal. Tell me what that bastard did, and I’ll withhold sex from him for two weeks.”
She giggled, but when I didn’t laugh, her smile faded.
“Seriously, Abby, whatever it is, you can tell me. It’ll stay between us, I promise.”
Her reassurances were all I needed, and I let myself spill the story that had been weighing on me for too long already.
“Elijah is back,” I blurted out.
Etta laughed.
“What?” she asked in her sweet, innocent way.
“He… he didn’t die. He’s been alive all this time, and he’s here. In Pario City.”
Etta’s mouth gaped open, her somber eyes blinking.
“What?!”
I nodded, swallowing thickly.
“Where has he been then? What has he been doing?”
“He was living far from here, in a place called Seven Rock, but he’s here now. He lost his memories since the war—”
“Wait a minute,” Etta interjected. “Is that what he told you?”
Skepticism colored her words, understandably. Elijah was my mate, and I hadn’t believed him. I could only imagine what it sounded like to her.
“It’s true,” I mumbled. “I didn’t trust that at first, but…”
I trailed off and eyed her hopelessly.
“So now what?” Etta demanded, anger lacing her tone. “He expects to just pick up where he left off?”
I sighed and hung my head. “I don’t know what he plans on doing, but Etta, he’s the one who told me about the trafficking.”
“Oh, Abby…” Pity took over Etta’s anger, and she squeezed my hands. “I know he rejected you back then, and I realize that you had a hard time getting over him, but you have to admit that this is really odd, don’t you?”
“Is it?”
“Isn’t it?” She sounded surprised I didn’t agree. “Elijah claims he, what? ‘Can’t remember’ the past two hundred years, and then shows up out of the blue when things are going so well for you? He’s obviously not the same wolf you fell in love with.”
But he was. He was the same Elijah. I bit back my argument and let her have her say. I had gone there for advice, after all.
“You think he’s an imposter?” I asked.
Etta shrugged. “Possibly. Or maybe something happened to him. Two hundred years is many lifetimes for some. He’s not the same guy he was.”
