There was no fond closing, just a hurried dash and then “Cricket” in the same spiky scrawl as the rest of the postscript. I could imagine my stepmother finishing her note and hurrying to reseal the envelope before my father returned to his office, the usually obedient woman slipping the letter into the back of Brooke’s file to be carried to me. I shivered, imagining what might have happened if the Chief had caught his wife in the act, especially if Father’s wolf was as out of control as Cricket made it seem.
But he hadn’t caught her, and I had come home. And now, at least, I knew what was wrong with Haven.
Chapter 19
“Are you serious?” I asked the next evening when I came down for dinner.
The Chief had remained absent for most of the day, and I considered taking the opportunity to debrief Cricket. But, really, my stepmother’s note and Brooke’s letter said it all. Plus, the people of Haven who I saw scurrying around whenever I went outdoors backed up my hypothesis—my father was disintegrating and his pack was falling into shambles around him. There wasn’t much I could do until the Chief showed back up, so I waited as patiently as I could until he was ready to put in an appearance.
I hadn’t decided what I was going to do about Haven and my father yet, but that larger issue flew out of my mind when I walked into the dining room and saw my father and Cricket waiting for me at the table … along with the saddest set of suitors I’d ever seen. Okay, yes, my girl cousins were right—the potential mates my father had picked out for me were handsome enough. And the men sitting at our table were mostly the right age, although one was old enough to be my father and another looked like he might still be coming to terms with adulthood. But ever since my wolf and I had made up, we’d been sharing the same mind-space, and her senses told me that none of the four were even as alpha as Brooke had been. My older sister had enjoyed many good attributes, but she was not an alpha werewolf, and strong leadership is what Haven needed if it was going to pull itself back together. What was my father thinking?
As if to confirm my analysis, all four suitors bowed their heads at my tone of voice, and despite my concern over the situation, their reaction almost made me laugh. That was certainly a first in Haven—male werewolves submitting to a woman. Or maybe they just wanted to say grace?
The humor fled, though, when my wolf and I took in my father’s canine counterpart. This was the first time in a decade that I’d seen Father while my wolf was wide awake, and she growled deep in her throat at the sight. The Chief’s wolf looked rabid under his skin, twitching and baring its teeth, clearly begging to be let loose. For the first time in years, I felt real respect for my father, who was able to keep such a dominant wolf under control, even though the two sides of his personality seemed to be butting heads rather than working together.
And now that I knew where to look, I could see the strain produced by that internal battle. My father’s face was lined, his jaw clenched, and the piercing eyes that I’d once thought could force me to do anything now seemed almost weak. Crazy Wilder was fighting the wolf … and losing. I spent a second wondering if this was how Brooke had looked during her final days, then I forced myself to focus on the more pressing problem right in front of me.
My father allowed the silence that followed my words to extend out until it was becoming painful, then he finally broke eye contact with me. If it hadn’t been such a crazy concept, I would have almost thought the alpha was deflecting his gaze the way a submissive wolf might after trying to stare down the pack leader, but that idea was too ludicrous to hold onto. Instead, my father merely turned to scrutinize my four suitors, then quietly dismissed them from our presence. “You can go now, boys,” he said abruptly, and as one, the male werewolves got to their feet, put their napkins on the table, and filed out the door.
Well, that was … unexpected. “I wasn’t reneging on our deal …”I started, but the Chief talked right over me, any hint of submission long forgotten.
“I see you’re finally ready to take on the job I’ve been grooming you for,” my father intoned. But I didn’t get to learn what job Father was referring to because a formidable knock on the front door stopped our conversation in its tracks.
“Right on time,” the Chief said, taking a sip of water before leisurely rising from the table and leading our little family down the hall. His wolf looked quieter than it had a few minutes before, and the canine now seemed amused, as if we were all on stage, acting out a drama that the Chief had written. I wanted to hold onto that clue, but my breath caught in my throat and all other thoughts fled as the door was flung open and a non-Haven werewolf walked in. My knight in shining armor had arrived.
***