Chapter 66

All night, it played on my mind. Even when I woke up, I suffered from the lingering effects of the dreams this knowledge caused. I had dreamt so many possible scenarios, my dreams plagued with nightmares of each one. I needed to figure out how everything links because I am positive there is a connection in some way.

Axton believes it doesn’t link with what is happening now, but I think it somehow does. Some incessant nagging voice in my head that for once wasn’t Lexa telling me we were missing something. Something vital. Just seems like too much of a coincidence that all alphas are linked to Stiles, whose missing. And those same alphas are out to stop Axton? And now me…

Axton passes me a thermal cup full of steaming hot coffee. He had meetings today and is debating whether to cancel them. My mother and I still have a fair bit of packing up to do, having not finished everything yet. We still had to drag out the last of Sondra’s stuff from her room that survived Marco from the other day, we would chuck everything in storage to be sorted later.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Axton asks me for the hundredth time. It’s almost like he believes I can’t survive without him holding my hand.

“Yes, it won’t take long. We’ll follow the truck back,” I tell him.

“If I finish early, I will come out and help,” he says, leaning inside the car and pecking my cheek while I start the car. I place my thermal cup in the cup holder while he pulls his jacket on. I watch him climb in his car before reversing and heading to the borderline to pick up my mother and Luke.

This morning its particularly chilly; the rains coming, and a storm was brewing silently; I could feel it, that strange, bizarre instinct to take cover settling over me, and the faint scent of moisture in the air, the dampening smell lingering in the breeze.

I chuckle, watching Luke climb over the front seats to squeeze between the car seats, his shoulders rubbing the seats. He doesn’t seem to mind as he coos at his nephews while clicking in his seatbelt. My mother climbs in with a clothes basket of cleaning products.

“We are supposed to be emptying the place, not filling it with more junk,” I tell her as she shuts the door.

want to leave the

cleaners to go out there Thursday,” I

want the cleaners to think we live like pigs,” she snaps, and I raise my eyebrows at her and chuckle. Mom was one of those people you take on holidays, and she brought a bag of cleaning products to clean the hotel room before we left. She used to be the same back home. The house would be spotless before the cleaner came, and the poor girl would scratch

the house, Luke helps me drag the bouncers and playpen inside to set the boys up while we get to work. Checking each room is empty while my mother frantically cleans every inch of the house. Heaven forbid the cleaners

to sweep the cobwebs from the banisters. I set the box by the front door before stopping to

he believed the pack was safest in my hands; I was trying to find

was going to

news to

“What?”

were arguing. That is why Stiles wanted to

brows furrow, and I can tell

a divorce. He said your father wouldn’t let me leave and that I needed leverage, so he overrode the system so I could send off the change of titles. I never put it in my name; I sent

those papers?” mom nods

the other council members, or tried to, but somehow he found out. So I rejected him, and well, all hell broke loose,” she sighs, glancing toward the living room to look at Luke. She smiles sadly, and I can see talking about my father is upsetting her, so I drop the subject, instead returning back to the tasks while wondering who told my father about the forged

and mom chuckles, scrubbing the stove top; who would have thought three measly stairs on the porch could make your legs burn so badly? I’ve trudged up them that much this morning. I’m surprised I haven’t run tracks into them. Walking back

propping the phone on one ear and shoulder as I start rummaging for the nappies I swore were left in the back pocket

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