Wendell Carson

The silver-haired man looked like he was in his late forties, perhaps fifty years old at most. He had sun-warmed skin that contrasted with his pale blond, nearly silver hair. He looked like an outdoorsman in his denim jacket and worn gray jeans.

“That’s Wendell Carson to you, my boy. Grandfather was an old life,” the silver-haired man replied with a half-smile.

Hunter didn’t say a word. He did not know what to say. He only knew that he had said something he wasn’t supposed to say.

The man turned toward the girls and smiled.

“My name is Wendell Carson. I’m a wildlife expert from The Wolf Sanctuary in Mountain Range. In an old life, I was Hunter’s known grandfather.”

Ash’s eyes widened. She had only ever heard of Hunter’s grandfather from Lavinia, Hunter’s mother. The story of him killing and eating Lavinia’s horses shot through her mind. Her heart beat faster and her palms began to sweat.

Celia and Izzy merely looked on, confused.

“You will call me Mr. Carson and that will be all. No o