When the Wolves Howl

8: "You're a wanted girl, little Ardens."

VIII: "You're a wanted girl, little Ardens."

•••

Freya opened the door after the third knock. She was smiling, but the expression dropped as soon as she saw Alyssa. She must have realised what was going on, because she ushered Alyssa in quickly, keeping an eye out for anyone who might have followed Alyssa.

"Sit down," Freya said, gently guiding Alyssa to a sofa. She ran back to the kitchen and returned with a tray and her porcelain teapot. She had a wet cloth too, and gently took Alyssa's hands into her own. She wiped the dried blood off while Alyssa sat motionless. Her hands were cold, much like the rest of her, and her chest was hollow. Every time she breathed, her lungs felt endless and she could never get quite enough oxygen into her body.

When Freya was done, she set the rag aside and pulled the two teacups closer to her. The tea was steaming hot as she poured it into the cups, and it smelled faintly like strawberries and mint.

Freya handed Alyssa one cup and sat down on the other end of the sofa. "What happened?"

The cup shook in Alyssa's hands. She held it between both palms and sipped it slowly, but the liquid sloshed and burned her lip. She hissed in pain and Freya gently took the cup from her and set it down on the table. Alyssa shut her eyes and drew her knees up to her chest. She sniffled, but her eyes were dry.

"They're dead," she said. There was no emotion in the words. "Someone killed my parents."

Freya was still with horrified silence. She shuffled closer to Alyssa and pulled her into a tight hug. Alyssa rested her head against Freya's shoulder, but she felt nothing. Her stomach was completely empty and her mind clear—quiet for the first time in a long time—but there was nothing inside her. She felt like a plastic mannequin.

"I'm sorry," Freya whispered. Her hand rubbed Alyssa's back softly. "I'm so sorry, Alyssa."

Alyssa shifted away from Freya. She sat in the corner of the sofa, her frame pressed into it painfully. She held herself tighter. "It was the wolves, wasn't it. That's why I didn't bother calling the police. Werewolves killed my parents, didn't they."

Freya pressed her lips into a thin line. She nodded reluctantly, and a flare of ugly rage grew in Alyssa's chest. Freya shook her head quickly, reading too much into Alyssa's expression. "We don't know who it was yet, we can't assume."

"You said they wouldn't be happy with me as Caleb's mate. And you said they hate witches."

"But they don't know you're a witch," Freya pressed. "And they wouldn't hurt humans for no reason. Caleb's father might not be entirely mentally stable, but he isn't impulsive, or stupid."

"Lauren," Alyssa said, the name leaving her lips with a bad taste. "She said they saw me talking to you. And that they would try to get rid of me."

Freya's expression turned vicious. "Lauren can't be trusted."

"And you can?"

"What?" Freya gaped at her. "I told you about your real parents. And what you are. I'm the only one who told you the truth, Alyssa."

"And that might have gotten my parents killed," Alyssa bit out. "You forced me into some kind of pact to leave school with you and it's starting to look like that was a mistake. I was fine before all this supernatural bullshit."

"You were in danger," Freya said more softly. She looked down at her hands in her lap, her shoulders hunched, and Alyssa felt the tiniest flare of guilt. "Every enemy the Stones ever made would have been after you as soon as they found out who you are. You're lucky Lauren hasn't said anything to her father yet."