Little Dahlia

Ch. 42 - A Letter

Song: Calpol by Cavetown
Words: 1740
Published: October 5th, 2020
Third Person POV
Rayna

It has been two weeks since Diane told Rayna her sad story about Ophelia. Everything still seems to be going well, just as it was before. Rayna is getting closer and closer to becoming Harley's official Queen, so she has begun to appear in the press. Pictures have been taken of her and she's been asked questions, though she has yet to do an interview. Surprisingly, (at least to her,) she's been really good at it. She's improved with her words and speaking in front of others.

Both her physical and Queen training with Freya and Diane have been progressing really well, too.

Today, Rayna woke up early, trained, and napped afterwards like usual. She's currently painting in her art studio before lunch while Harley works in his office.

Suddenly, she gets mind-linked.

'Hey, baby,' Harley greets. 'You got a letter.'

Harley, being King, receives tons of spam and fan-mail, so he has a specific mail pile for that that someone with the specific role to do so goes through for him before it reaches him. As Rayna has began appearing in the press, she's started getting letters, too. As she doesn't have her own mail system set up yet, everything goes to Harley first.

Her fan-mail has consisted of both compliments and death-threats, so her mail has started getting sorted, too.

'It's labeled "important",' Harley adds.

Visibly confused, Rayna gets up. 'I'll be right there.'

She walks through the one hall that's between her studio and Harley's office and walks up to Harley's desk. He hands her the envelope without much thought. It's a pristine white, addressed to her, with "IMPORTANT" on it in bold letters. Silently, she sits down on one of the two black leather couches in Harley's office and opens the envelope.

She pulls out the paper and starts reading.

'Dear Rayna,

     You don't know me, but I know you. My name is Brielle Robinson, and I'm your biological sister. You must have a lot of questions, so let me explain.
     Our parents names were Cordelia and Byron Robinson. They were rogues, banned from their packs at eighteen and twenty for being chosen mates. They had five children. I was the third, and you were the youngest. The rest were boys.
     When you were born, they could tell something was special about you. I was only seven, and I could, too. To give you the best chance at life, they left you at the nearest pack house.
     Eight years later, there were only four of us left. Cordelia, Byron, the eldest, and me. The eldest's name is Christopher, but he goes by Topher. One day our parents went hunting, and they never came back. Topher and I tried to live on our own, but we realized we couldn't. We surrendered ourselves to a pack, Rising Sun. Fortunately, they took us in. They were great. They treated us as their own, gave us food, clothes, a home, and even a family.
     When I turned twenty, Topher and I attended a mate ball. Mine's name was Fredrick Jackson but went by Freddy. I quickly moved to his pack while Topher moved to his mate, Riley's, pack. I knew she was perfect for him, and I blindly fell in love with Freddy. I foolishly ignored all of the clear signs and red flags. We married at twenty-two, and before we knew it, I was pregnant.
     We were both ecstatic. That is, until we found out it was a girl. He wanted a son and became abusive towards me. I knew I had to get out of there for the sake of my daughter. I tried to contact Rising Sun and Topher, but Freddy had cut off any way to contact them without me realizing. Halfway through my pregnancy, I made the daring choice to run.
     I was taken in by a pack and was able to contact Rising Sun and Topher. I moved back to my old pack and gave birth to my little baby girl. I named her Serenity Aster Robinson, and she's become my pride and joy.
     I reported Freddy, but sadly, nothing ever came of it. I did get a restraining order against him, so he can't come close to me or Serenity.
     Serenity's four now, and I'm twenty-six. Being a single mother has been the best years of my life. Unfortunately, a year ago, I was diagnosed with a disease. It's a rare, specific, fatal kind only found in werewolves. The doctors believe I contracted it at Freddy's pack, and it was too far developed to treat it. I'm writing this letter on my death bed, and by the time you get this, I'll have passed.
     Hearing your story on the news, I knew it was you. I'm sure a DNA test can confirm that. Congratulations, being mates with the Alpha King and all. As my sister, I'd like to invite you to my funeral and become the legal guardian of my little Serenity from now on, as Topher is consumed by his own mate and pups.