Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 139076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“How the hell do I get out of here?”
Winter paused at the automatic doors and frowned. The damn sensors didn’t register him, so they wouldn’t open, but he didn’t want to step back into the living world and risk anyone spotting him. He waited for someone to run into the store. Luckily, a patrol car had been close, and a pair of cops came charging in, giving Winter the opening he needed to leave.
“How do I get out of this place?” Baldy demanded, sounding more afraid than angry.
“You don’t. You’re dead.”
And if there was even a chance of this prophecy being true, he was going to make sure this fucking witch joined Baldy in death before she had a chance to threaten the Variks.
Chapter 3
Winter could never quite explain the feeling that came over him every time he walked into Marcus’s house. A deep sense of calm. Belonging. Something he needed after the fight in the sporting goods store earlier that night.
He’d not lived with Marcus in nearly seventy years, but his home still enveloped him, welcomed him, whenever he walked inside.
Maybe it was the same rugs and framed paintings that had greeted him while he’d lived there. Maybe it was that carved marble jaguar, poised to pounce, always in the same spot in the foyer. His brother’s home had suffered two separate attacks in the past year, but he’d somehow managed to not lose many valuable items. A few vases, a painting or two, but much of his home was the same as it had always been.
Marcus was a creature of habit and routine, which gave him a sense of control when there was so much in their lives he couldn’t control. Like their mother and the Ministry.
But for as boring as it all seemed, Julianna Varik had been at her calmest when she lived with Marcus. Even if she’d complained of the tedium of living with Marcus, the predictable rhythm had been something her fractured mind could rely on.
Sighing, Winter shut the front door behind him and tried to shake off those thoughts. It was the one bad thing about Marcus’s home. Julianna Varik. There was no escaping her memory.
Or her ghost.
Julianna Varik was still there. He tried to avoid looking at her, but his eyes always rebelled against his wishes and were drawn to her. Since her death, her ghost was almost always in the same spot at the far end of the foyer, near the doorway to a little-used parlor.
With no one around, Winter paused and stared at her for several seconds. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d died. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but rather he was afraid once he started, there would be no stopping the outpouring of anger and hatred he felt toward the woman. She needed to answer for the pain she’d caused his brothers, the blood she’d spilled.
But there was no point. Shouting at a ghost would change nothing. He had more important things to worry about now. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, he buried those old feelings down deep as he wandered into the library, where he was shocked to find only Beltran and River. Usually Winter was the last to arrive at any family meeting.
“Winter!” River exclaimed with his typical boyish enthusiasm, bringing a smile to Winter’s lips. It was impossible not to like River Varik. The young werewolf was playful, snarky, and embraced a joy for life. It also didn’t hurt that he was incredibly protective of Bel.
The werewolf jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the couch with his mate and rushed over to Winter’s side. He barely had time to brace himself for another one of River’s rib-crushing hugs.
Werewolves were incredibly affectionate once they decided they liked you. Something Winter was still getting used to.
“Good to see you too, River,” Winter said awkwardly, lightly embracing him while Bel cackled from across the room.
River released him, a teasing smile on his lips, as if he knew how Winter struggled with the hugs. Of course, if he told River to stop, the werewolf would, but Winter didn’t want him to stop. Didn’t want him to alter a damn thing about who he was. River and Bel’s other werewolf mate, Wyatt, had suffered too much in their long lives. They were finally happy, forming their own pack with a vampire. Winter wanted them to embrace every joyous moment in their new life together.
“Where’s Wyatt?”
“He and his brother went to visit their sister,” Bel said as River walked over to the couch and flopped down on the cushions, so he was practically sitting on Bel.
“David from the Montgomery clan?”
Bel nodded. “It will be the first time he’s seen Casey in years. He wanted Wyatt there with him.”
Winter rubbed his forehead. It was a bit of a mess to take in. After Wyatt had come out to his pack about a dozen years ago, he and River had been exiled, and Wyatt’s family had been forced to scatter. It was only in the past couple of months that they discovered Wyatt’s sister Casey was living with the werewolf pack in the area while his brother David was mated to the leader of the Montgomery vampire clan.