Wavering Storms

fifty-three

~•°•~

The morning after Edward and Felix fought the wolves, Felix was left with more questions left unanswered, questions to which Edward vehemently avoided answering. The overwhelming frustration of being hopelessly patient made Felix wear a perpetual scowl over his thin lips.

What was the meaning of the ring? Did that mean that the mate he thought was dead was alive?

Since his son was the one ruling the Midland Pack, the possibility of his mate being alive was considerably big.

If only Edward was more open maybe then Felix wouldn’t be losing his sanity with all the mangled ideas swimming in his head.

Felix turns to Edward, moving his legs against the earth under him. They hadn’t come back to the cabin the whole night as Felix was worried that more wolves might try and come in. Though wolves infiltrating the border might be the last thing he was thinking about.

“Neddy, don’t you think you should explain to me why you gave your ring away?”

Edward raises a brow.

“I did so because that man was willing to risk his loyalty and his life so he could see his child again. I would do the same for my daughter.”

His assured answer did not at all calm Felix down at all. Perhaps he was hyper analyzing things? Edward sure seemed to want him to think that.

“Let’s not talk about what happened. I have a new assignment for you in the morning.” Edward wiped the dried patch of blood on his left cheek.

“In the morning?” Felix sighed, looking over the horizon.

But it was already morning. The sun had crept out of the looming darkness, rising over the towering pine trees and casting a warm glow among the woods of the Northern pack.

The old wolf grumbles tiredly. “Okay, after you’ve rested. Visit who this Lucy is and drill everything about the routes they use to enter in.”

“Am I to dispose of her?” Felix asked.

“Like you always do, son. We must leave no witnesses.”

~•°•~

Edward’s words always terrified Felix. To leave no witnesses meant more blood on his hands. Later in the day, Felix thought it was odd how he hadn’t seen Lyra. Though she might have needed a lot more time for herself after what happened with the Seeker Jasper.

Lyra’s burn had become a big liability. If this rumor spread any further, the South and the West would probably be involved. That’s why he needed to find the wolf as soon as possible. To prevent them from spreading more lies and deceit.

It was late in the afternoon when Felix drove himself downtown to find a coffee shop. Ruefully, he found himself in a frustrating predicament as there were about thirteen coffee shops spread across the small town. Why would people need so many coffee shops? It was making his search slower than a balding man’s scalp.

The only way he could determine they were not the right shop is the absence of wolves. No scents were indicating the rogues passed through. On the thirteenth coffee shop, Felix was happy to found some trace of their intruders.

On a quaint little shop with a vintage shop sign, windows bordered with gold bands, even the upholstery inside were dressed in a somber green fabric adorned with white roses.

Felix felt his dagger on his back pocket. He readied himself for an assault but found none after he entered through the door. The bell above the door mellifluously chimed, bringing in a calm vibe. The colors in the shop were left dim, even the customers already sitting on their booths, matched the theme.