“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I told my stepmother quietly after a minute, because that much, at least, was true. Now didn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask where Ethan had been sent off to in disgrace and how my father could have kept his bloodling past so well hidden, although these puzzles were threatening to pull me out of the wallowing I so badly craved. Nothing like concern about others to ruin a bout of self pity.
“Well,” Cricket answered, jumping back to her feet and plumping up pillows that didn’t need plumping. “I should get back to work on dinner. Call me if you need anything.” Even as she spoke the words, my stepmother was moving toward the door, and I knew I should have offered to join her downstairs to help out with the task. But I couldn’t quite make my legs move. I would have to take my place within the stifling women’s realm of Haven eventually, but Cricket seemed to understand that I needed this one day to mourn the outside world, and I appreciated her quiet support.
I had already started to drift back into my grief when my stepmother turned back from the open doorway to face me. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “I forgot to ask if you read the letter from your sister that I put in your file?”
That woke me up, and my hand closed involuntarily around the unopened envelope I’d been carrying around in my pocket all day. When I first saw Brooke’s letter, I’d been afraid to read it, knowing the presence of my sister’s missive was part of my father’s intricate plan to wind me up in his web of intrigue. Later, I’d gotten sidetracked by the joy of mingling with Wolfie’s pack and had forgotten all about the note. But when I left Dale’s house this morning, I’d reached out and put the envelope in my pocket, meaning to throw it back in Chief Wilder’s face unopened. Now, discovering that the letter had been placed in the file by my stepmother was just … confusing.
But before I could answer Cricket, another familiar voice drifted toward us from the stairway. “Don’t worry, I’ll show myself up,” the female werewolf called as her head crested the opening into the attic. Quetzalli hefted a duffel bag up behind her, nodded at my stepmother, then said to me, “Looks like we’re roomies.”
***
To be honest, I hadn’t really expected to see any member of Wolfie’s pack again. But if anyone was going to show up, Quetzalli wouldn’t have been the werewolf I’d thought most likely, nor would she have been the one I’d prefer. I could imagine Oscar being left behind as a sort of honor guard if Chase had felt some misplaced duty toward a woman who was once nearly a pack member, and I would have liked to imagine that Galena was enough of my friend that she might have chosen to help me through the weeks to come. Even one of the yahoos would have been preferred over Quetzalli, who was the rougher and more masculine side of her and Galena’s partnership. While some of the other pack members might have glossed over my harsh words that afternoon, Quetzalli was bound to have taken offense, and she wouldn’t hesitate to let me know it.
From the look in her eyes after my stepmother pattered away down the stairs, Quetzalli wasn’t any more pleased to be here than I was to see her. “Not my idea,” she muttered as she carried her duffel over to the spare bed under the window. Her tone said Case closed, but I couldn’t let it go at that.
“Okaaay,” I answered, drawing out the word, then settled on simply asking her flat-out. “Whose idea was it then?”
Quetzalli rolled her eyes at me before turning away to begin unpacking her possessions. She’d clearly known she was staying before leaving the pack’s compound because the werewolf had filled her bag with underwear, a change of clothes, and toiletries. Which meant Chase must have talked to her since he was the only one who had known about my plan before the fact.
Or so I’d thought. “Wolfie, who else?” Quetzalli answered, her back still to me. “Although why he would bother worrying about you is beyond me.”
Quetzalli’s revelation silenced me for at least fifteen minutes, which might have been her intention. During that time, my mind raced over the events of the last twenty-four hours, honing in on Wolfie’s visit the night before and on his subtle attempts to drag me back into pack life. Yes, it was no stretch to imagine that Chase might have told his friend about my planned betrayal—I’d always known that was a possibility, even though I’d hoped I was convincing enough to prompt Chase to keep my secret. And, although it was harder to believe, I could also see Wolfie deciding that the decision was mine to make, then squelching his own feelings in order to let me follow my chosen path. Despite being a bloodling, Wolfie was nothing like the domineering males I’d known in the past, and he probably guessed that if he had forbidden me to trade myself for Keith, I would have just sneaked away in the night and carried out my plan without the pack for backup.