March 16, 2003
My lovely Freya,
When you read this, it must mean my dear father has passed. You must have a lot of questions, and I'm sorry I'm not here to answer all of them for you. Just know as you read this, your father and I loved you with all our hearts, and we only did this to keep you safe.
If I know my dad, he probably told you stories about our family history, but to you, they must have seemed like bedtime stories and sometimes even scary stories. I wish I could say all those stories were made up, but sadly, they are all true. When you turned sixteen, your dreams might have felt more like visions. That's because they are.
With each year your wolf is locked away, the visions will become stronger, and a powerful feeling will urge you to seek out others like us, but you must resist. It's too dangerous to be around other werewolves. Please believe me when I say it is for your own safety, that is why we sealed away your wolf until now.
Your grandfather should have given you this letter with a vile so you could make the choice for yourself on your 18th birthday.
If you want to keep your life as normal as possible, throw the vile away and even this letter and continue your life as usual. But if you're anything like your father, then the urge to seek others like us is too strong to stay hidden. I just hope there are still others like us left out there.
If you choose to take the vile, you must find our kind before the bloodsuckers find you. This is very important as the bloodsucker's only goal is to drain you.
I wish I could tell you this in person: My Lovely Freya, you are a werewolf.
Freya
November 18, 2023
"What the fuck!" I yell and crumple the letter, throwing it against the wall. I turned 18 six years ago! I guess mother never figured grandpa would develop dementia and totally forgot to give me this letter. Thankfully, grandpa was in the right mind to give this to his lawyer before he completely lost his mind. I just wish he would have told the lawyer to give it to me when I turned eighteen and not after he passed away.
Holding the vile in my hand and twirling it between my fingers. My dreams, or apparently visions, have been non-stop nightmares that even the pills weren't keeping at bay, at least now I know why. I open the vile and smell the liquid inside, making me wince from the strong, revolting scent, causing me to wonder if maybe it's expired.
Closing the vile, I set it on my nightstand and pick up mom's letter from the floor to reread it again until I practically have it committed to memory. Standing from my bed, I move over the bookcase and go through the journals my grandpa would read to me as bedtime stories.
I blow the dust off the journals, which forces me to sneeze ten times in a row. I had never opened them myself, and grandpa never actually let me look inside when he read them to me. As I open the journals, I finally understand why.
They were all handwritten, and from the looks of it, some of the handwriting belongs to my mother. Some of the pages had maps, names of people, and groups with names like Red Moon pack and Silver Springs pack, with the last entry listed as Moon Spirit Pack.
According to the handwriting, the Moon Spirit Pack is supposedly the last pack they had contact with. The pack leader is named Arthur Wright, but there's no exact location where to find them, just that they are located somewhere in the northern hemisphere.
There's a knock on my door, followed by the sound of the key opening it.
"Hey babe, do you still want to hit up the new club opening?" Jackson asks, throwing the keys on the counter and kicking off his shoes.
"Not tonight. I finally met with the lawyer, and I think some things are going to have to change,"
"Shit. The lawyer, eh? Did the old man at least leave you cash?" Jackson goes to the fridge and pulls out beer, then makes his way to the couch, plopping down on the seat and putting his legs up on the coffee table.
"No, something better," I say, smiling.
Being around Jackson made me feel almost normal. The nightmares would subside, and while the sex was good, it didn't make up for his arrogance or douche factor that I put up with just so I could sleep.
"Oh yeah, then we definitely should go out and celebrate tonight." He takes a swig of his drink, then stands so he can wrap me in his arms and kiss me with his alcohol-covered breath until I take a step back so he can't touch me.
"What's the matter with you?" Jackson scoffs, cocking his eyebrow at me.
"My grandpa left me my freedom. While it's been..." I search around our shared apartment, "Good. There's somewhere else I have to be, which means I have to go, and this time, when I leave, it will be just me."
"You're not going anywhere. You can't leave just like that. We've been together for the last six years. Do you expect me to let you go without a fight?" Jackson grabs me by my arm, holding me so tightly I'm sure it will leave a bruise.
"Let me go," I demand, eyeing him down.
I had never been scared of him in the past. That is what made it so easy to move in with him after I put grandpa in a nursing home facility. We've shared a nice life together, but even he didn't want anything serious, seeming how he never once proposed marriage or even given me a hint he wanted anything more than sharing an apartment.
When he doesn't release my arm. I jerk away from him, pushing him back and causing him to fumble over his own feet and go through the glass coffee table. While Jackson is cleaning the glass off himself, I rush to pack a bag with basic necessities. Grabbing my camera bag, I shove all the journals into the bag, as well as the vile, and reach into my drawer, grabbing the cash I set aside.
"You need me!" Jackson yells as I slam the door behind me.
"Not anymore," I say under my breath.
Going to the nearest diner, I order a coffee while pulling out the journals so I can go over each and every one of them to study and hopefully find a place to start looking for the packs. I spent the next few hours researching and was only able to find a starting location in Alaska.
I go next door to the motel and get a room for tonight while I plan my next move. The run-down motel barely has any access to Wi-Fi, making it take nearly two hours just to book a one-way ticket to Alaska for tomorrow.
Unable to sleep, I grab the vile from the bag and stare at it, contemplating if I should drink it or not. When my alarm goes off, I realize night has become day. Packing up my stuff, I hail a cab and go to the airport.
Living all the way in Flordia, it will take nearly twelve hours to get to Alaska. As the plane takes off and we fly over the northern states and snow begins to appear on the mountains, do I make the connection I have no clothes for cold weather.
Managing to fall asleep, I slip into another nightmare,
A tall man with dark green eyes appears before me, holding out a hand for me to take. As I reach out to touch his hand, he disappears into the darkness and is replaced by Jackson, who is covered in blood.
"What happened?" I call out to Jackson. He doesn't say anything. Instead, he smiles and wipes the blood off his chin.
"Jackson, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, but you know I couldn't have stayed," I plead to him, but he continues to smile and slowly walks away.
"Jackson!" I cry out, but he disappears, leaving me standing all alone in the darkness.
"You should have stayed." Jackson's voice whispers.
I'm awoken by the stewardess and see that everyone else has already exited the plane.
"Are you alright, miss?" The older woman asks, holding a tissue in her hand.
"Yes..." I wipe my face and feel tears on my cheeks, "Thank you," I take the tissue from her hand and get up from my seat.
I grab my bag from the overhead compartment and sling it over my shoulders. The moment I step out of the airport, the cold breeze shocks me in place. Feeling the shiver down to my bones, I shake it off and look for a cab, getting inside the first one I manage to spot.
"Where to?" The old man asks.
I check into a small town Inn that sits near the edge of a lake near a forest. Supposedly, the spirits of the forest are stronger around here because the poles diverge directly across the center of the forest, or at least that's what the cab driver told me during the thirty-minute drive from the airport. Walking up the gravel road to the house that looks as if it was built in the eighteenth century gives me goosebumps and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When I touch the doorknob, a strong needle-piercing pain shoots through my brain, almost bringing me to my knees. The door opens from the inside, and an older woman with a large scar on her face appears before me. "Can I help you?" She asks. I stand at five foot seven inches and probably tower almost two feet above her. "Yes. Do you have a room available?" "I do. Please come inside, and I'll get you situated," she walks behind the desk placed on the left-hand side facing the entryway, looking into the large li
"Hello? Are you awake?" A loud banging on my door wakes me up, "Hello?! I'm not waiting all day!" My eyes heavily open and only spring awake when I see the clock is a little after nine. Jumping out of my bed, I shove on my shoes and grab my jacket and photo bag, rushing to the door to open it. "I'm sorry," I say for being late and bumping into his stone wall chest, "Sorry," I say again, fixing the messy hair out of my face. Matthew doesn't say anything. Instead, he just grunts and moves to the stairs. I follow behind him. Marcy is at the bottom of the steps with a picnic basket in her hands and gives it to Matthew, who reluctantly takes it. "Have fun, you two," Marcy coos. "Whatever," Matthew mumbles in a barely audible whisper. Marcy gives me a smile while I run behind Matthew to keep up with his pace. "Can you slow down a bit?" I yell out to him.Matthew doesn't say anything, he just stops in his tracks, not even bothering to look back. Coming up beside him, he sneers at me,
Marcy and Matthew took two hours to get the kids ready. While they did that, I organized the living room and had the fireplace ready for a photo shoot. I'm still against the idea, but seeing Marcy smile when I told her what Matthew asked for made it hard to stay mad.The kids came down first, both dressed in their Sunday's finest. Marcy followed behind them in a simple purple dress and wearing the same house slippers she had on earlier."Can you shoot from the waist up?" Marcy asks, fixing her hair in the mirror that's located in the hallway.The two kids begin arguing over something random, which has Marcy yelling at them to settle down. Marcy calls out for Matthew but he doesn't respond."Do you mind getting him dear?" Marcy says, looking at me with tired eyes.I simply nod and keep my head down as I go up the stairs. I arrive at his door and knock, but when there is still no answer, I gently turn the handle and peek my way inside. The room is empty, but a light is shining behind on
Matthew's hand trails up my thighs, making my legs part to give him better access. His fingers slip into my already wet folds before he pushes them inside me, causing me to let out a moan. His lips kiss mine almost as a reminder not to be too loud and wake the others, then moves to my neck, then down to my breast. My hand reaches down to feel his cock, which is already ready for me. Even after a few drinks, Matthew didn't have any problem keeping up with me, something I hadn't experienced in a very long time. The idea of him inside me has me pulling him on top of me as I'm no longer able to wait.Matthew lets out a low chuckle and positions himself between me, then presses his thick member inside me. He pushes himself as far as he can go inside me, my body reacts instantly, wanting to clasp down on him to never let him go. Almost as if instincts kick in, I flip us over so he's now on his back, and I'm on top. My hands reach down and are placed on the headboard to give me leverage wh
Dinner time came and went. I grabbed my plate of food and came back to my room, as I was still upset with Matthew. Marcy could sense the tension, while the kids were none the wiser. I continued reviewing the journals, hoping something new would pop out of me, but I had no luck, making me even more frustrated.I slam them shut and pace back and forth, trying to think of a way to get back out there on my own without the asshole tour guide. How can he sleep with me one day and be an ass the next? I scoff."Now he's starting to remind me of Jackson." I search the room, hoping I might find something that will help me get back out there. As I rummage around the dressers and closet, I manage to find a flashlight, a few batteries, and a thick jacket. I walk over to the window, open it, and contemplate jumping out. During my internal debate a knock on the door stops me.I set the jacket and flashlight on the chair, then go to answer the door to see Matthew standing behind it. "What do you wa
Jackson POVFour Days AgoLeave! How could she fucking leave?! I've wasted these last few years kissing up to that bitch, waiting for her to become that damn wolf, and she just leaves! As if I would have stayed with her this whole time if I didn't expect to get something out of it."Damn it!" I yell.I pick up the bottle I took out of the fridge just before she left and throw it against the wall. My rage doesn't end there. I rip apart the couch, throwing the pieces all around the living room, then pick up the TV and slam it down on the ground. "Fuck!" I scream with my fist raging in the air."Hello?" a woman's voice calls from behind the front door, "I'm trying to work over here," she continues, annoyed as she bangs on the door.Perfect, I can go for a snack.I open the door, and the blonde, busted woman drops the bitchy attitude and changes her whole demeanor to something more seductive. A typical move for any human that comes across me. Humans are unable to resist the aura I exude,
Freya POV My body aches from Jackson dropping me on the floor. I panic, unsure what to do. In my condition, there's no way I can fight him off, and I need to get to the kids to make sure they're safe. I notice the camera on the floor and reach over to grab it and quickly turn it on. Jackson always hated me using it when he was around because he said he hated the way the flash bothered his eyes. Before it can turn on, Jackson lifts me back up by the throat. I clutch onto the camera, holding it for dear life and counting in my head the seconds it takes for it to turn on. My body starts to go limp. I look down at the camera and notice the red light, which lets me know it's ready to go. With every last bit of energy I can muster, I lift the camera, putting it directly in his face, and take a picture of him. The flash caused Jackson to release me and scream in pain as he uses his hands to cover his eyes. As quickly as I can, I run upstairs and shout for the kids and search for them un
Cole POV "We've been contacted by a small group of survivors seeking asylum," Derek remarks, standing up from his seat at the round table. "How many are we expecting?" Alyssa asks, taking a drink from her wine glass. I placed them both together and gave them a seat on the council because of their yin-yang personalities. Derek is a strong fighter and an expert warrior in battle; he's also the most strategic in bringing back survivors alive. Alyssa is more of the nurturing type and has a very gentle touch that helps with dealing with survivors who just made the dangerous trek here. While they both despise each other, it doesn't stop them from working well together—in more ways than one. They don't think I know about their affair, but it's obvious, at least to me, it is. "They started with ten, but now they are down to six," Derek says in a more somber tone. He knows the loss all too well from making the journey himself once before. "We can't keep taking in every stray pack that c