A horrible idea popped into my head, but it was probably the best chance that I had.

Slowly I stood up and began to walk away. Austin caught up with me and closed his hand around my elbow.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

I turned my head and stared into his blue eyes. "I'm going to have a heart-to-heart with your darling mother."

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

I took a long breath before tapping my knuckles against the wooden surface in front of me. My pulse was racing and my palms were sweating uncontrollably. 'Maybe this wasn't a good idea,' I thought to myself. 'What if I was disturbing one of her morning rituals.'

"What are you talking about," my wolf snapped at me, "it's past noon. What kind of ritual could she be doing?"

I didn't have to opportunity to reply before the door opened and Margret Travis stood in front of me with a sneer plastered on her face.

"What do you want?" she sneered, her voice bringing my headache back.

I kept my face still as I looked at her, but I hardly got my mouth open before the door was yanked open and a large, burly, lumber-jack like man stood there. His green eyes were full of life and dances with different shades and his beard framed mouth was smiled broadly. I felt my own smile tug at my lips as I stared at the man that I hadn't changed in the least. His plaid shirt and jeans were even the same.

"Look at what the cat dragged in," he exclaimed in his normal loud, deep voice that demanded attention. He pushed Margret out of his way and clapped a hand in my back while pushing me into the house. "Look at how much you've grown. Musta’ grown at least a few inches since last I saw ya."

I held back a laugh. "I think you're wrong. I have grown half a centimetre since then." He gave a hardly, bellowing laugh as we walked deeper into his house.

"Close the door, Margret," he said over his shoulder, "you're makin' a draft and ya know how much Edna hates a draft." I heard Margret huff and I could practically see her roll her eyes.

"Speaking of your lovely wife," I said when he led me into the living room, "how has she been?"

He groaned as he fell into a large leather recliner, and gestured to the couch when I was standing there awkwardly. "Your mother was here this morning, they gossiped and yakked for hours. She left 'bout an hour ago, but promised she'd be back."

My mum and Brettly's mum, Edna, had been best friends, same as our dads. So I was screwed from beginning in being his friend, and if any cliché story could tell you, the female character always ended up with either her brother’s best friend or worse enemy. Guess I drew the short straw by getting the best friend.

"Is Edna here?" I asked, pulling away from my slightly dramatic thoughts.

He nodded, bringing the foot rest if the chair up. "She's up in 'er study, reading like usual."

"You wouldn't be too offended if I went up to talk to her, would you?"

"Nah. I think she'd've hunted ya down if you didn't come lookin' for her."

I nodded and walked upstairs. Originally this had been our packs other house, where we would put visiting packs or where Kieran would throw more of his crazier parties. Since this place had basically abandoned every day I decided to hide here when I was little, pretending that it was my house and my imaginary mate and I would be hosting a magnificent party.

Yeah, I used to believe my mate would make my life better and we would live happily ever after. That had quickly been beaten out of me though. There hadn't been much that I believed in after the age of ten.

Ivory Where stories live. Discover now