Book One in the Lycan Chronicles
Evander Rue had his entire life planned out even before he was born. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and parents who never had time for him. A family who barely called or cared for him left him to be rais...
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A week had passed since the full moon, and tomorrow the holiday vacation would be over, meaning they would all have to go back to school. Evan had managed to begin his healing process after what happened with Zoraida, although he wasn't entirely sure he would ever forgive himself for what happened, nevertheless, what he did know was that lamenting wasn't going to change that. Midnight had been a tremendous help, and while his method of helping was more consistently intense at times, it was what the werewolf needed to hear, or he'd be lost in a sea of remorse. Most of the Alexaviers had left the day that Davorin and Midnight got into an argument over dinner to go back to the manor or back to their homes in another state since they had readjusted the spells in the territory so no one from Obsidian's lineage could enter. Most of the Alexavier family had come to the unspoken conclusion that while they didn't hate Evan, they weren't going to socialize so openly with him as they had done in the past, which only made things worse for the werewolf. Sirus, Dionisia, Elysium, and a few others were the only ones who acknowledged his presence whenever he was around. Still, Evan no longer felt comfortable staying at the cabin, and that was why he decided he was going back home. Evan promised he'd have lunch with Midnight, and then he would leave before it got too dark outside, not that it mattered for someone like him.
The goth was currently in his office, staring at the documents on the table while the werewolf sat on the leather couch watching him apprehensively. It was still early in the morning, not even close to noon, but that didn't matter because the people Midnight had to call would be awake at any given hour of the day. Midnight had been avoiding making that phone call for as long as possible, but he couldn't put it off any longer, or the suspicion would grow. A few days ago, Evan had finally told him about his dream regarding Alekséy Volkov and how he suspected that the alpha had been killed. The ex-hunter didn't know what to think about that and hadn't said anything about the matter. Midnight had asked Makaria and Sirus to investigate the matter further before jumping to any conclusions.
"What happens if you don't call? I mean, we're the only ones who know that Celastria is dead, and I highly doubt the Elders will be broadcasting her death to the Vatican." Evan asked, eyeing the phone warily before turning his gaze back to his lover.
