Chapter 71 The Gallery Visit
LISA'S POV
Dante drove like he had all the time in the world and it made my skin crawl with every passing mile. Smooth, careful, classical music playing softly through expensive speakers that probably cost more than most people's cars.
He made small talk about the weather, the scenery, and his gallery's upcoming exhibition featuring contemporary artists from across the country and Europe.
I played along and pretended I was just a woman enjoying an afternoon out. Not a wolf Alpha investigating the man who might be manipulating my entire life. Not someone who knew he had been at my mother's death scene and stolen her belongings like a grave robber.
The gallery was in the city, two hours from pack territory. Two hours that felt like an eternity while I sat in the passenger seat and watched him drive.
Expensive neighborhood with tree-lined streets and boutique shops that catered to people with more money than sense. Tasteful storefront with large windows displaying beautiful paintings that probably cost six figures each.
"Silver Moon Gallery" the sign read in elegant script above the door. Of course, it was called that. Of course, he had named it after what I was and what he had been hunting for years. The arrogance of it made my blood boil.
Inside the gallery, there were white walls and track lighting, and carefully curated pieces arranged to draw the eye from one masterpiece to another. Modern art mixed with classical sculptures in a way that showed real knowledge and taste.
But I was not looking at the art. I was looking for the back room. The private collection. The silver wolf artifacts that Emma had shown us screenshots of on her phone. The things that belonged to my family and should have been buried with the dead or passed down through generations. Not displayed in glass cases like trophies.
Dante led me through the main gallery and explained each piece with genuine enthusiasm that would have fooled anyone who did not know what he really was. He was charming and knowledgeable and clearly passionate about his work. An expert who could make anyone believe he was just an innocent art dealer who loved beauty and wanted to share it with the world.
But there was something calculated in how he watched my reactions to certain pieces. Testing me. Waiting to see if I suspected anything or if I was as naive as he hoped. As naive as Adrian probably told him I was.
"I have something special in the back," Dante finally said after we had walked through three rooms of paintings and sculptures worth millions. "Adrian mentioned you are interested in your family history. Your heritage. The traditions that have been lost over the years. I happen to have a few pieces that might interest you. Items connected to wolves and old pack traditions that most people have forgotten about."
Here it was. The moment I had been waiting for and dreading in equal measure.
I followed him through a door marked "Private" and felt my heart hammering in my chest hard enough that I wondered if he could hear it. The room beyond was temperature-controlled with the lights dimmed to protect whatever was stored inside from damage. Glass cases lined the walls like a museum dedicated to my family's pain. And inside those cases were items that made my breath catch in my throat and my wolf howl with grief that echoed through my bones.
My mother's necklace. The silver one with the wolf pendant that she wore every single day of her life.
A silver comb that belonged to my grandmother and was supposed to be passed down to me when I came of age.
A ceremonial blade with silver wolf markings that I recognized from old family photos tucked away in albums.
Things that should be buried with the dead and honored with prayers and memories. Sacred items not meant for collection or display or sale to the highest bidder.
"How did you get these?" My voice was deadly quiet. The kind of calm that came before violence and bloodshed.
Dante turned and his face changed completely in the dim light of the private room. The friendly art dealer mask dropped away like a costume he no longer needed. What was underneath was sharper and more calculating. A predator who had been hiding behind a smile and waiting for the right moment to strike.
“I have been collecting silver wolf artifacts for twenty years, Lisa. Ever since I witnessed your mother's death and realized what she really was. What you are. The power that runs in your bloodline and makes you different from every other wolf alive."
He moved to a case and pulled out a journal with reverent hands. Leather-bound and worn from years of use. I recognized it immediately and felt my stomach drop. Another of my mother's journals. A journal my family never found after her death. A journal we thought was lost forever or destroyed by whoever killed her to hide the truth.
"Your mother was documenting the prophecy," Dante said as he opened the journal and showed me pages filled with her handwriting. Familiar loops and curves that I had studied in other journals she left behind.
“The real prophecy, not the sanitized version the packs tell to make themselves feel safe at night. She knew what silver wolves were truly meant to do. Not unite packs and rogues in some happy alliance where everyone holds hands and sings songs, but destroy the entire pack system. End hierarchy, end Alpha rule, create something entirely new from the ashes. Burn it all down and start over with a blank slate."
His eyes gleamed with excitement as he spoke and I could see the fanaticism underneath his polished exterior. "That is why they killed her. A coalition of Alphas who realized she was not going to play the role they wanted her to play. She was going to tear down everything they had built over centuries. And that is why I have been helping Marcus Krane, Adrian, and others position themselves around you. Because when you finally embrace your destiny and tear down the pack system like your mother wanted, there is going to be a power vacuum. A void that someone needs to fill. And I represent the people who want to fill it. Wealthy humans and supernatural beings who are tired of pack rule and want something different. Something better."
My hand moved to my phone in my pocket but I felt nothing. I touched an empty space where it should have been.
Dante held it up with a smile that made me want to rip his throat out with my bare hands. "I took it when you were distracted by your mother's necklace. An old pickpocket trick I learned years ago when I was young and stupid. Very useful in my line of work."
He set the phone on a table far out of my reach. "We are going to talk, Lisa. Really talk. About what you are, what you are meant to do, and why fighting your nature only delays the inevitable. Your mother tried to fight it too at first. She tried to be a good Alpha and follow the rules. But in the end, she realized the truth. The system is broken and it needs someone like you to break it completely."
The gallery door locked with a heavy click.