The Wolf Inside Us

t h r e e

ALTHOUGH NAOMI HAD NEVER MET HIM, she knew Alaric's son well. He had talked about him often. He had been proud of his son. Whenever he had brought Wyn around the last time, he said his son would be there soon. But he never had, because shortly after that, Alaric never showed his face again.

Apparently it was because he was dead. But sixty years ago? How could that be? Naomi was only twenty.

Naomi ran shaking hands through her damp, tangled hair. Her breaths felt strangled.

Not told.

"We thought he had moved you," came the reply from his son. She didn't know which to be more surprised over-the fact that he understood her frantic sign, or the softening of his gaze.

Carrie sat down near Naomi's right, watching as the man paced in front of them.

Asa. Alaric's son.

She lifted her helpless gaze and looked to Wyn. She made motions of someone writing on a piece of paper. Carrie caught the gesture and stood quickly, going over to the kitchen. She pulled out a collection of sticky notes and a pen. Naomi gratefully accepted them.

"Thank you, Benson. We'll take it from here," Asa said. "Send over Iago."

"Of course, Alpha," Benson returned, nodding his head respectfully before he slipped out the door.

Carrie peered over Naomi's shoulder as she scribbled out her questions. And there were many. What had happened to Alistair? And how could he have died sixty years ago when she was but twenty?

She watched the alpha and Wyn share a glance.

"What's your earliest memory?" the alpha asked, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. He leaned against the nearby counter.

Her earliest memory was easy to recall. She had slipped and cut herself on a sharp garden spade. Naomi wrote that down.

"How old were you, do you think?" Wyn asked.

She made the sign for ten.

And then blinked.

"That's not normal," Carrie muttered.

The alpha sent her a sharp glance but Naomi ignored it. Carrie was right. It wasn't normal. Had she never thought about that before? How had she never questioned how she couldn't remember anything before Alaric and that cabin?

She squeezed the pen so hard she feared it would snap. A gnawing feeling began to eat away at her gut.

"Actually, in her case, it could be fairly normal," Wyn said, a defensive look on his face.

Naomi blinked at him, before furiously scribbling her thoughts on the sticky note. My earliest memory is when I was ten and I can't remember sixty years of my life. I thought I was nearing twenty one. None of this is normal.

She shoved it across the counter and they bent to read it.

Carrie gave her a hesitant glance. "We'll find answers."

Naomi shook her head. She wanted to believe her, but everything seemed impossible at that moment. She pointed back to the name she had first written. Alaric.

She watched as Asa rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.

"My father was murdered by Galilea Turides. Have you ever heard of her?" The alpha queried, tilting his head. Naomi shook her head and he nodded once, in response. "She's a powerful alpha. She...wanted something he had. That she's killed others for. And now, consequently, she's after me."