Chapter 32 32
I inhaled a deep, steadying breath and nodded. “Got it.” I reached for the door handle. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
My fingers had just brushed the cool metal when her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Her grip was tight. I looked back at her, annoyed. “What—?”
But her eyes weren’t on me. They were fixed on the main entrance of the packhouse, her expression one of pure, theatrical shock. Her voice dropped to a horrified whisper.
“He’s here?”
“Huh? Who’s here?”
“Alpha Aeson.”
My lips parted. A cold jolt shot straight down my spine. How? That was impossible. I had just left him. I twisted in my seat, trying to crane my neck to see past her and out the windshield toward the house.
She pulled my arm, stopping me. “Don’t look directly! I think… I think he got here before us. To talk to your mother. To… placate her.”
My blood ran cold. “What the heck? You think she didn’t buy your lie?”
She gave me a pained, sympathetic look. “She’s Luna Serena. So… yeah, I think so. I’m sorry, Ari.”
My face felt like it was on fire. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, the panic tightening my throat. He was here? Talking to my mother? About me? The humiliation was so complete, so catastrophic, I thought I might be sick.
Then Sheila’s serious expression cracked. A giggle escaped her, then turned into a full-on laugh. She let go of my wrist, doubling over the steering wheel. “Oh, your face! Your face was priceless!”
It took my stunned brain a second to catch up. The panic receded, replaced by a slow, dawning understanding. I looked back at the packhouse entrance. The wide steps were empty. The doors were closed. The only light came from the sconces on either side. There was no unfamiliar sleek black car, no imposing shadowy figure. The coast was completely, utterly clear.
It dawned on me. She’d totally fooled me.
I turned my head slowly and glared at her, my eyes narrowed to slits.
She caught her breath, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But you should have seen your expression! It was worth it!”
“Seriously?” I rolled my eyes so hard I saw stars. Without another word, I shoved the car door open and got out, slamming it shut behind me with more force than necessary.
She just waved, still chuckling, and then zoomed off, not toward her own house which was just a few minutes away, but deeper into the pack territory, probably to find her mother parading and gloat about her successful prank.
I stood there on the driveway, the cold night air finally cooling my furious cheeks, and shook my head. Sometimes, my best friend was the absolute worst.
I walked into the house, and the darkness hit me like a wall. It wasn’t just dark; it was a thick, silent, pitch black. The kind of dark that feels alive, that swallows sound. No lamps, no sconces, not even the usual faint glow from the security keypad. No rustle from the kitchens, no distant murmur of a TV from the staff quarters.
What’s going on?
Silly me had barreled in too fast, assuming the usual pools of light from the hallway. Now I was stranded just inside the doorway, blind. I couldn’t make out the shape of the pillar to my left that held the main light switches. I couldn’t even see the outline of the wall. I took a hesitant step forward, my arms stretched out in front of me like a sleepwalker.
“Hello?” My voice echoed weirdly in the cavernous foyer, thin and small. “Is anyone home?” I sounded ridiculous, like a lost kid in a stranger’s house, not someone who’d lived here her whole life. “Oh, goodness.”
A thought struck me, ridiculous but possible. Maybe Quinta and Granny were working together to pull some elaborate stunt on me. Those two old women, who acted more like mother and daughter than anything else, could get up to too much when they put their heads together. They found my dramatic reactions endlessly entertaining.
“Quinta!” I called out, my voice firmer now, laced with fake annoyance. “If you’re pulling this prank, it’s not funny! You know that! A woman of your age could break more bones trying to sneak around in the dark than you’d get from laughing at me!”
I made it sound like a warning, hoping to flush them out with a chuckle from the shadows.
But there was nothing. Just the heavy, listening silence.
A second, colder thought slithered into my mind. What if this wasn’t a prank? What if something worse had happened? A rogue attack? Some internal coup while I was out? Could they have been…?
“No, no,” I whispered to myself, shaking my head in the dark. The panic was immediate and electric, flooding my veins. I turned, disoriented, and started to run—or at least, I tried to. I took two stumbling, blind steps in what I hoped was the direction of the door, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Then, with a soft click, the lights came on.
Not just the foyer lights. Every light in the grand entrance hall blazed to life at once—the massive chandelier, the wall sconces, everything. The sudden brilliance was blinding. I threw up a hand to shield my eyes, squinting.
And then voices yelled, a joyful, overlapping chorus.
“Congratulations, dear!”
As my vision cleared, I saw Granny standing a few feet away. She was holding one of those handheld party poppers. With a mischievous grin, she pointed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp POP!, and a shower of shiny, iridescent confetti rained down around us, catching the light like falling stars.
From behind her, Quinta stepped forward, carefully setting a small, beautifully decorated cake on a table that had been moved into the center of the foyer. It was covered with a pale blue cloth and dotted with little silver stars.