The Wolf's Choice (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 4)

by Patricia Blackmoor

  Nervously, I pulled the curtains shut. I didn’t know who that wolf was, and I didn’t like that they were watching me. It felt, in a way, like my privacy had been violated. I shifted uncomfortably and I removed my dressing gown before climbing into bed.

  I tried not to give it a second thought, but it was still discomforting because the wolf could be anyone. Almost everyone in Weylyn was a lycan in some form or another, and I was far from recognizing all of them. It could be someone lurking, or just waiting for my brother.

  Lycanthropy can developed in two ways: it can be inherited, or one can be bitten. Lycanthropy runs in my family, but women can only be carriers. The only way they can transform is if they’re bitten by someone who carries the curse. In my family, my mother and I are carriers, while my father and brother transform. That’s the way it is for most of the town. Female werewolves are few and far between, although I hear the queen has her fun when the moon is full.

  I first learned about the existence of werewolves when I was ten. My brother was thirteen, and in the early stages of puberty. For those who have inherited the trait, that’s when it starts to show itself. He hadn’t been paying attention to the phases of the moon yet, and one night, we were outside playing. When the full moon rose, he began to transform, and I’m sure my screams could be heard clear across the lake.

  After I’d woken from my shock, my parents sat me down and explained everything. They’d also given my brother quite a talking to. When the full moon rose, werewolves transformed whether they wanted to or not. As a werewolf, he needed to pay better attention to the moon’s phases. Since my brother was only thirteen, my father took fair share of the blame as well.

  The wolf that had been outside my window had been a sort of silver and dark gray, from what I could tell in the light coming from the half moon. I didn’t know of anyone that looked like that. Most of my brother’s friends ranged from light brown to almost black, and my father was a very dark, almost chocolate brown. I had never seen silver before. It would have been pretty had the wolf not held a menacing gaze.

  The wolf would have probably almost been forgotten had it not showed up the next night, and the one after that. By then, I had assumed that it was a friend of Harry’s. It wasn’t until I joined him outside for horseshoes after dinner that I learned anything different.

  “You’ve had a few busy nights,” I commented as I tossed the heavy crescent.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, surveying my poor throw.

  “Haven’t you been wolfing around in the woods?”

  He frowned. “No, not really. I don’t go out much during the week since I have to work early.” Harry had begun working for my father this past year. My parents had hoped that he would buy a house of his own and move out sometime soon, but so far he had stayed steadfastly in our home.

  “Oh. For the past few nights there’s been a wolf sitting in the front yard. I thought it was waiting for you.”

  “Not that I’m aware of. What does it look like?”

  “Sort of a silver and grey.”

  Harry paused, his brown furrowing in consideration. “No, I don’t think I know anyone like that.”

  It was my turn to frown. “Well, that’s strange.”

  “If you see them again tonight, let me know,” he said. “I’ll go out and have a word, so to speak.”

  We didn’t play much longer; it had already gotten quite late, and when I went to bed, there was no wolf outside my window.

  The next morning was Sunday, and Sunday meant church. I wasn’t a fan of church, especially not in the summer. With so many people packed into the cathedral, it became hot very quickly, and sitting in the pews while the priest droned on and on made me sleepy. Additionally, many of the people I preferred not to associate with, such as Hattie and Lillian, went to the same church. Today they were out, which was a relief. After their threats in Belladora’s, I wanted to avoid them as much as possible.

  My mother spent as much time chatting with people as possible until my father and brother pulled her away. They hated Sunday services almost as passionately as I did. From what I understood, early members of the Catholic church spent their time hunting down lycans, believing their evolution to be a curse. They had changed their stance now that most of the regency was lycan.

  All was normal when we returned home. As per usual, the cook had put together a Sunday brunch with eggs benedict and heaps of bacon. We ate almost as soon as we walked in the door, which is why I didn’t realize anything was amiss until almost an hour after we’d arrived back home.

  After brunch, I went upstairs to relax and read for a while. I paused outside my bedroom door. I had shut it when I left, I knew I had. I always shut it, ever since I had caught my mother reading my journal when I was twelve. She never remembered to shut my door, and so I always knew she had been in my room. But I had been with her the whole day, and she hadn’t once gone upstairs unsupervised.

  Curiously, I pushed the door open, and my jaw hit the floor. It looked as if a tornado had developed in my bedroom. I prided myself on keeping things neat and orderly, but my belongings were strewn everywhere. My wardrobe stood agape, my clothes in a heap on the floor. The things that had been on my dressing table, like my jewelry box and hairbrush, had been scattered onto the floor, and my jewelry box had been smashed to splinters. Picture frames had been shattered, and all my bedding had been torn off of my bed.

  I stood, frozen in shock. What on earth had happened here? My bedroom had been completely ransacked, and my privacy violated, and I had no idea why.

  I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see my mother as she reached the landing. She saw me standing in the doorway, a look of stupefaction on my face, and frowned.

  “What on earth is wrong, Hazel?” she asked me. I could only step aside to let her see for herself.

  “What in the bloody hell happened here?” she asked me. I knew it was serious, because she rarely swore.

  “I’ve no idea,” I managed to say. “It was perfectly orderly when we left. I think someone came in while we were gone.”

  “Well, who would do that?”

  “I don’t know. I have little of value in here.”

  Her eyes glanced toward the window, which until now I hadn’t noticed was open. “Perhaps a gust of wind?”

  “Do you really think a gust of wind could have done this?”

  She shifted her weight, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I’ll have a talk with the cook, though I’m not sure what she’ll know if she spent her morning in the kitchen. Of all days for Tubbins to have off!” She threw her hands in the air and proceeded down the hallway.

  I was about to call for Clara to come help me when I remembered that she, too, had the day off. We let most of our staff off on Sundays in observance of the Sabbath, although the cook was Jewish, so she took Saturdays off.

  That meant I was left to clean up this disaster area all by myself. I sighed and went down to the kitchen to get the broom. I’d have to leave my shoes on while I swept up the broken glass from my picture frames.

  Back in my room, I got to work. I started with my dresser and worked my way around. I swept the broken glass off the top of the dresser and into the garbage, setting the glassless photo frames in a stack on the side of the dresser. I picked up the drawers and slid them back into place, and sat on the floor while I folded my clothes and placed them back in their places.

  The only thing they had done to my sewing table was knock over my basket of supplies. If anything, I could be thankful. Had they destroyed the machine, my mother would have been furious. I got to work picking up the threads and pins, searching carefully lest I miss one and end up with my foot impaled by a needle.

  I gathered up my jewelry, placing it on my dressing table. My jewelry box was beyond repair, and had to be tossed in the garbage. While I surveyed what I had picked up, I paused. One of my necklaces, the peridot heart I had worn at Wolf’s Peak, was missing. I sighed. Perhaps I’d find it while I con
tinued to clean.

  My hairbrush, too, was missing. I began to put away the dresses that had been tossed in a heap on the floor beside the wardrobe. Perhaps I would find my missing items underneath them. Instead, as I hung each gown back up on the rack, I realized one was missing. My favorite one, the pretty sea glass and rosette one, the one I had worn to the wedding.

  What a strange thing to take. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would destroy my bedroom just to steal that. It could be easily reproduced by Belladora’s, and if it was finery they were after, there were pieces all over the house that could fetch a better price than my gown. Perhaps my mother had sent it to be cleaned. I’d have to ask.

  I was hanging the last dress when there was a knock at my door.

  “Come in,” I called out, expecting it to be my mother. Instead, I turned to see Adam.

  “Might I come in?” he asked.

  “Of course,” I said, trying not to sound too surprised. I certainly hadn’t expected him to come calling today. “I’m just cleaning up. Someone destroyed my room while I was at church today.”

  “What?”

  I explained what I had come home to, and pointed out that my bedding was still in a pile on the floor. He frowned. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” I sighed. “A few of my things are missing, too. Nothing terribly valuable, though. My hairbrush, my necklace, and one of my gowns.”

  “How strange.”

  “Utterly bizarre.”

  We were quiet a minute before he spoke. “I actually came here for a reason,” he said.

  “I assumed as much. You so rarely pop by unexpectedly anymore.”

  He smiled. “It’s been a long time since childhood.”

  “Things were simpler then.”

  “They certainly were.” Again he fell quiet, not yet revealing the reason for his visit. “The duke is having a garden party.”

  “Oh?”

  “He wants Christine to become more acquainted with his friends.”

  I smiled. “That’s a lovely idea. She does seem to be a bit of a fish out of water at Wolf’s Peak.”

  “Would you like to come with me?”

  I paused. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. I know you and Christine are friendly. I thought it would be nice for her to have a few faces there that she was comfortable with.”

  My smile faltered. I was delighted to attend the duke’s party with Adam, but I’d rather hoped that it was because he wanted me there with him. I was happy to help put Christine at ease, but I didn’t want that to be the only reason I was there.

  “I’d be delighted to go with you,” I told him.

  A smile broke across his face. “Wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I am as well.”

  He gave a slight bow. “I’ll see you on Tuesday, then? I’ll pick you up around noon?”

  “That sounds splendid,” I told him.

  He sort of jumped, as if he was a bit giddy. “Wonderful,” he said.

  As he left, shutting the door behind him, I had to admit I felt a bit giddy myself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When I came down to breakfast the morning of the party, my mother was already at the table. She gave me a slight nod as I sat down, and I offered a small smile in return. Excitement had flooded my body since the moment Adam asked me to the party, but I’d done my best to suppress it for fear that my true feelings for Adam would be revealed. So far it seemed to be working, as my mother had only mentioned the party once at dinner. It seemed the day Adam had asked me to go with him, he had also asked my parents if I would be allowed to come. Clearly they had allowed it, since I hadn’t heard otherwise.

  “What are you going to wear today?” my mother asked me as Clara set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me.

  “I was thinking perhaps my yellow dress with the flowers on the bottom.”

  “That sounds lovely, although perhaps later this week we should go into town and order you some new dresses.”

  I looked up at her curiously. “New dresses? The ones I have are still in decent condition.” Granted, now I was down my favorite gown, but I still had plenty.

  “But they’re a bit dated,” she said. “You could use something newer, and perhaps more mature.”

  I swallowed my food. My mother had often mentioned wanting me to appear more mature, but she had never done anything other than criticize. I didn’t feel the need for new dresses, but if my mother was offering, I wasn’t going to turn her down.

  “I think a shopping trip would be lovely,” I told her.

  “Good,” she said with a satisfied grin. “We’ll go to Belladora’s.”

  I began to protest. “Oh, no, that’s much too expensive.”

  “Only the best for my little girl.” She didn’t look at me as she took a sip of her tea, but I looked at her. What was she playing at? She’d always cared more about her gowns than mine. She didn’t disclose any other information though, and I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to push and ruin my chances at some new clothes.

  After breakfast, I sat at the piano for a bit before going back upstairs to get ready for the party. Just like I had told my mother, I chose the yellow dress with the flowers. I had been thinking about what I would wear ever since Adam had extended his invitation. With my favorite green dress gone, I’d had to resort to other options. I wanted a gown I hadn’t worn often, so I’d chosen the yellow one. Yellow wasn’t the best color against my pale skin, but the gray embroidered flowers along the bottom were perfect for a summer party.

  My mother came to help me with the pearl buttons along the back of the dress. She didn’t speak as she buttoned me up, but I could see her face in the mirror. She had an expression that I had seen before, one that indicated she had something to tell me but wasn’t sure how to find the words. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her brow furrowed, and every once in a while her mouth would open only for her to shut it again, making her look a bit like a fish gulping for water. She kept this up as she did my hair and added a bit of powder to reduce the shine on my face.

  I wanted to ask her what words she was hesitant to speak, but I was afraid that it would only end in criticism. Criticism was the very last thing I needed just before I spent time with Adam. I needed self–confidence, not a critique of my skin or my waist or my personality.

  I was pulling on my boots when I heard the carriage pull up outside. My heart hammered in my chest as I glanced at myself in the mirror, and tucked away invisible strands of loose hair. I smoothed down my skirt just before pulling on a pair of lace gloves. With one more glance in the mirror, I left my bedroom behind and started down the stairs.

  My mother and Adam were standing in the entry, chatting. I recognized the expression on Adam’s face, a polite face with a distant look in his eyes. She was chattering away, and he wasn’t listening. I had put that look on my face every day since I was thirteen.

  As I rounded the corner on the stairs and came into view, Adam turned his head away from my mother and toward me. A grin spread across his face, and I was unable to stop myself from grinning back. My mother followed Adam’s line of sight and smiled also.

  “Oh, doesn’t she look beautiful?” she asked Adam, nudging his arm.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

  I prayed my face wouldn’t flush, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

  When my feet hit the floor, I paused, a hand still on the banister. I was only inches from Adam, but his eyes were cast toward the ground.

  My mother stepped back. “Oh, lovely. You two look lovely. I wish I could take a photograph of this moment. Just lovely.” She clutched her hands to her chest.

  Adam didn’t speak, and I didn’t either, awkwardness hanging in the air like a dense fog.

  My mother put her hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Well, you two have fun. I hope we’ll see you again soon, Adam.” Her voice seemed to hold some sort of implied meaning, and it wasn�
��t until she had ushered us out the door that it hit me, and I froze.

  My mother wasn’t stupid, though sometimes her interests bordered on petty. Somehow, someway, she had discovered that there was something, as undefined as it may be, between Adam and me. Her words had been thick with expectations, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she had been implying that she wanted Adam to return and ask permission to court me.

  My palms were embarrassingly sweaty as Adam helped me into the coach, and my thanks was scarcely more than a whisper. I sat down on the seat near the window, and Adam sat across from me, our knees nearly touching.

  “How have you been?” he asked me as the carriage began to start toward Wolf’s Peak.

  “I’ve been well. Yourself?” Our words were more formal than our usual conversations, but his voice was still nervous. After my revelation, mine was as well.

  “The same. Nothing terribly exciting happening, unfortunately.”

  “I’d say the same, but we did have a break–in recently,” I said with a smile.

  “That’s right, did you ever learn what happened?”

  “No. There was no one home who would have seen anything, and my items are still missing.”

  “Did you send for the police?”

  “My mother didn’t seem to think that was necessary,” I said, punctuating my frustration with an eye roll.

  “What items did you say were missing?”

  “My necklace, hairbrush, and one of my gowns.”

  He frowned. “A strange collection.”

  “Very much so.”

  “And nothing else?”

  “Not that I could tell. Whoever it was, they clearly weren’t after valuables. There were other things they could have taken.”