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The cover was made of leather, red and cracked. There was a faded gold leaf carved into it.
Joe opened it slowly.
It’d been hollowed out.
Inside, resting atop a deep blue cloth, was a small, ornate stone wolf.
“His name was Arthur,” the old witch said quietly. “He gave that to me when we were young. And we lived and loved until one day, he and our entire pack were taken from me by the rage of men. I begged and pleaded with them, but my words fell on deaf ears. They… well. They saved Arthur for last. I managed to escape. And after, I knew nothing but revenge. It consumed me. When finally the last man had fallen, I no longer recognized myself.” He reached up and dragged a finger across his face. “I was old. And I still hadn’t allowed myself to grieve. I felt hollow, Alpha. And there was nothing left to fill my empty heart. I had taken the lives of those who had harmed me and mine, but I was alone.” He took the book back from Joe, placing his hand atop the wolf. “I sit here, day after day, waiting for release. Waiting for death. Because I know when my heart no longer beats, my beloved will be waiting for me, and we will howl together in the stars.” He chuckled wetly, shaking his head. “You cannot become me. You cannot let yourself become consumed. If you do, you run the risk of never finding your way home. Trust an old witch when he says he understands more than most. I have loved a wolf with my whole heart. I know, Alpha. I know.”
Joe nodded slowly. He turned to leave but stopped himself. Instead, he went to the old witch and knelt by his chair. He brought both hands up and cupped the ancient face before him. He allowed his half shift to come over him, his eyes burning in the dark room. His claws scraped against the man’s face, little pinpricks denting in the skin. A low rumble emanated from his throat.
“Oh,” the old witch said, sighing happily as his eyes closed. “Oh, oh, how wonderful it is to hear a wolf again. These old bones are singing. Thank you, Alpha. Thank you.” He turned his head and kissed a sharp claw.
Joe stood abruptly and left the little house in the cove.
The fire was almost out.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
The old witch wiped his eyes. “Bah. I have done my part. Now you must do yours. I fear your journey is far from over. There is Richard Collins, yes, and he can never be brought back. But there is far worse than the likes of him. Do not let yourself be distracted.”
“My father.”
“Yes,” he whispered. “Richard Collins is nothing but a weapon, blunt and focused. But even one such as him can be manipulated. Monsters always can. Your story will not end with Richard Collins. I fear there is more ahead for you, Gordo.”
I nodded slowly. I was almost to the door when I heard my name said again.
I didn’t look back.
“What I said to Joe, it was meant for you too.”
My hands trembled.
“A wolf needs his tether, yes. But so does a witch. You have had three in your lifetime. Oxnard. Your pack here. But before them, there was another.”
I turned angrily. “It can’t be like that again. Not after—”
“Only because you won’t let it. You carry so much anger in your heart, Gordo. Just like your father. It’s all you’ve known for too long. Those boys, they… they look to you. Would you have them become the man you are now? Or the man you were supposed to be?”
“It’s better this way.”
“For who?” He laughed bitterly. He scooped the bones back in the cup. “For you? Or for Mark Bennett? Because I have never seen a wolf love another as much as he loved you. Not even Thomas and his mate. He loved you. He loved you. And you forsook him. Do you know what I would give? For just one more day with—” He cut off with a choking sound. His hands shook as he spilled the bones once more. They clattered on the table. They looked like nothing to me. “It’s happening,” he whispered.
“What do you see?”
He looked away. “It’s… hidden. Most of it. The bones aren’t everything. You know that as well as I do. They can’t be everything.”
“Tell me.”
The old witch sighed. “You will be tested, Gordo Livingstone. In ways that you haven’t yet imagined. One day, and one day soon, you will have to make a choice. And I fear the future of all you hold dear will depend on it.”
A chill ran down my spine. “What choice?”
He shook his head. “I cannot see that far.”
“That’s not fair.”
He looked up at me with sightless eyes. “For those called upon, it never is.”
