ALPHA: Heir Of The Four

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Notes: Ava-Rain's POV

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- 'I hope someday I'll make it out of here, even if it takes all night or a hundred years. . .' -

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No reception sucked.

I mean, I knew what to expect when I agreed to come back up north to the Helland cottage—had been used to it after all of these years—but, now more than ever, it truly sucked.

No reception meant that I couldn't talk to Caleb. I didn't know how his day was going, or if he had met Gray's alpha yet. I couldn't call him for no reason other than to just hear his voice.

Of course, we had our bond.

As Caleb always pointed out, our connection—the most reliable and honest part of our relationship that enabled us both to feel and know in a way that words just couldn't entirely or accurately convey—would always be there for us to rely on. I might not have been able to hear the words come from his own mouth or see it with my own eyes to confirm it, but I knew that he was okay. And if he was okay then the pack had to have been okay, too.

But that was only one of a few other reasons why lack of reception was making me feel uneasy.

No reception also meant that, even though I hadn't fully convinced myself into contacting my grandmother just yet, to have the option taken away from me only made me feel. . .well, I didn't really know. Confused? Angry? Indifferent? Nothing? The timing definitely sucked, but I wasn't mad at Caleb for not telling me sooner because there was no guarantee that I would have decided to act upon the information or buried it. There were so many questions that I wanted to ask—questions that I needed the answers to—but I wasn't quite sure if my need for those answers was stronger than my fear to actually talk to her.

Because there was no talking to Gladys Washington, only keeping your mouth shut while being forced to listen. There was no back and forth exchange, no hearing each other out before coming to a conclusion in which both sides' needs were met. I mean, look at how our last encounter ended. It hadn't exactly ended on a good note, and although every part of me found it hard to forgive her for forcing me to leave, a slightly bigger part of me still felt indebted to her.

She was my grandmother, after all. My only surviving family member, the only blood that I had left in the world. She had raised me, fed me, clothed me. Whether she and her 'appearances our everything' mentality had done so for the sole purpose of gaining a favourable public opinion, she had still taken me in after my parent's deaths. She had chosen me. I didn't know why or what it meant, but I think I owed it to myself to at least ask her why she asked a family of hunters to train a girl who she never once told that she loved.

See? Do you see why no reception sucked?

No reception meant that I had no choice but to be present, and being present meant having to actually face—not just deal with—your thoughts and feelings. Going off the grid was a break from reality that some people would have probably enjoyed, a chance they would have taken if given the opportunity. A healthy distraction in the form of cleaner air, becoming one with nature and a chance at self-reflection. And if I had been one of those people, I, too, would have been grateful for the opportunity were it not for the simple fact that this 'staycation' was actually just me being in hiding.

Me being in hiding and surrounded with a family of hunters.

Me being in hiding with Jennifer.