Chapter 17: What is at stake?

Oliver’s POV

My phone rang in my hands, I debated whether the call was worth picking up.

“Hello, my dearest Oliver” my cousin, My cousin's annoying voice broke through the speaker of my phone— Peter was quite a character, we have always hated each other since we were little kids and it had nothing to do with the rivalry or competition between our fathers.

“What do you want?” I groaned, I wanted nothing to do with him—we were nothing alike. He took after his father with greed and maybe pride.

“Can’t I greet my favorite person anymore?” He laughed out loud, his laughter making my skin crawl.

“Cut to the chase and tell me the reason why you called” I spoke through clenched teeth, I didn’t have all the time in the world for him to make a joke out of.

“Have you found your mate?” There he said it—that was the only possible reason he could call me for, nothing more than that.

“I don’t see what that has to do with you” I sighed, I don’t remember the last time I slept properly, the strength for this monthly check-in from him was nowhere to be found “Give it a rest Peter, you don’t have a chance at becoming alpha”

“Really?” I could be imagining him raising his brows. “Let's see what the shifters' counsel have to say about that” I could hear the hidden threats in those words— he wanted to bring out a case about an alpha with no Luna.

I disconnected the call and tossed my phone on the table, the migraine was getting worse.

I needed to find a strong female werewolf that could stand in as my fake mate and make her Luna, My spot as alpha was at risk—I wasn’t about to give my birthright to someone who just liked the power that came along with the title, not the people that made up the pack—how pathetic is he?

I pressed the red button situated beside my chair, calling for Eric.

A few minutes later, Eric walked in.

“You called for me?” he crossed his hands in front of his pant pocket.

“Yeah, email all important details to me, I think I might call it a day” I got up taking my suit jacket along with me.

“Are you not feeling well?” he questioned, worrying while swirling in his orbs.

“I am fine, just a little headache” I walked out the door not caring for a response.

The house was deadly silent, I took a walk around wondering where that little spitfire could be.

“Freya?” I called.

The dead echo around the house was unsettling.

She walked out panting, dressed like she was heading out.

“Where are you going?” I looked at her skeptically assessing her outfit.

“Work, I got a job at a small diner downtown” she divulged excitedly looking like a kid in the candy store—she looked cute. What was I thinking? Seems like the margarine was messing with my head.

“You got a job?” I asked bewildered, I don’t remember firing her “What about your job at this house?”

“I am basically not doing anything, aside from watching tv all the time” She wrinkled her nose, scrunching her eyebrows in the process “It gets boring” and shrugged.

“Let me drive you there” I offered, the details of the note I had gotten still vivid in my mind. I needed her to be safe, I was the only one able to protect her.

“You don’t need to, I would just take the bus” She made an effort to walk away when I had pulled her back.

“I insist” I smiled, something I don’t do—yep, I have definitely messed up my brain with workload stress.

“Okay”

I pulled over at the location she had directed me to “Is this the place?” It looked like it was a step away from crumbling. How did she think it was okay to work here?

“You have got that judgy look on your face, quit that. The place is okay”

“It doesn’t look so, I have a friend who owns an Italian restaurant, you could work there” I offered.

“No thank you, I am fine working here” She made a move to open the car door and step out when a commotion caught both of our attention halting our movement.

She rushed out the door, I didn’t register the face of the girl laying on the floor—it was a little girl, blood oozing out her head. I followed Freya out the door.

I made my way through the people circling the little girl.

“Have someone called an ambulance?” Freya's small voice yelled, she raised the girl’s little head “Call the ambulance” she cried shaking the little body.

“Lily” she called once again “open your eyes, can you hear me?” The fact she knew this little girl laying on the floor shook out the possessive side in me.

I brought out my phone and dialed the emergency number.

“A kid is dying here,” I said into the phone “Hurry up” I went to her side—the people around weren’t helping nor were they giving us breathing space.

“Back off” I picked up the little girl, placing my right arm under her knees, my right arm by her head.

I rushed her to my car, placing her carefully on the back seat of my car—there was no point waiting for the ambulance.

I stopped in front of the hospital still carrying her out, the hospital personnel bringing a stretcher and rushing her into the hospital.

There we stood in front of the little girl's ward, Freya still crying, she feared for the little girl's life.

“Do you know her? maybe we could contact her guidance”

She shook her head, trying to speak through tears “We were both in the orphanage, she left a few months before I turned 18”

Then it hit me right there—this was a kid running away from a bad foster home. I noticed the bruises she had worn on her pale skin.

“Nothing would happen to her, don’t worry” I placed my palm on her shoulders, this was the little comfort I could create for her—nothing more, even if I wanted to.