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CHAPTER 4- Five years ago

The meeting with the Alpha did not go as I'd hoped. Which was why I'd found myself heading out of Maine altogether and making a beeline for Boston. Dad's old truck flew down the pavement, my anger driving the speed as much as a heavy foot on the petal.

*"There's no real proof," the alpha had said. And he'd looked at me with appropriately sad eyes, while still finishing the end of his meal. "The pack doesn't have the resources to take on the Silver Moon Pack. It would be a massacre, and without something concrete..."

*"I scented him!" I'd yelled, eliciting a snarl from his mate, a fifty something woman with graying hair and sharp cheekbones, who sat next to him. "What more proof could there be?"

*"Scented who?" the alpha had challenged. He was an older man, probably sixty, his features were rugged, right down to the square jaw. Most alphas bowed out as they reached his age, but he was still too powerful to

retire, and he hadn't taken kindly to my tone.*

"Someone from the Silver Moon Pack..."

"Who?" he'd pressed.

*When I couldn't answer he nodded as if confirming his decision.

"We cannot afford retribution with a hint of a scent. We cant even be sure the Silver Moon wolf was involved." He held up a hand, stalling the protest coming out of my mouth. "I understand that you scented someone, Raven, but I am merely pointing out that there are many reasons a wolf might have been to your parents property aside from their murder. What if he was a client of your fathers? You know he sometimes handles...handled cases outside the pack."*

*Dad had been a business lawyer and had worked with the firm that mostly represented pack interests. But as a smaller pack the firm sometimes took on outside clients.

I didn't like where the conversation was going. Nor did I like that I could see his point. Sort of. The problem was that it was beginning to sound like he was suggesting we do nothing.

"What exactly are you going to do about this then?!" I demanded.

An odd sort of look came across his face.

*"You know that neither of your parents were born to this pack?" He asked, and my mouth closed so fast I had to keep my teeth from clacking.

My parents had fled some sort of pack conflict in the west, a conflict that had left me orphaned. They'd found me and fled, seeking peace.*

"They petitioned for membership, but..."

"Are you aware of the conditions of that petition?"

I wasn't, but I didn't like the feeling I was getting, so I kept my mouth closed.

"When your parents petitioned for membership they told us enough of their story to prove that they sought to raise their family in peace. But they knew that the violence was likely to follow them. It made them difficult candidates, because as much as we'd like to help..." he'd shrugged.

I knew what he was saying. The pack must protect its own first.

"They elected to forego any form of retribution or required violence should the past catch up with them, on the condition that you were considered a full member for life and therefore protected. I believe that the past caught up with your parents. I believe it was lucky that you weren't home and I think you should let this go. For your own safety. There are several unclaimed properties on pack land, you're nearly old enough to claim one, and with your parents gone we are happy to accommodate..."

I hadn't heard the rest. My mind had been spinning and whirring. I hadn't known much about mom and dad's past. Every time I brought it up they'd change the topic and I'd kind of learned to stop asking. But even if what the alpha was saying was true, it didn't explain why the Silver Moon wolf had been there. I wanted retribution, but I at least deserved answers.

The pack wasn't going to help me. No one was going to help me.

So I was going to have to help myself.

I'd torn from the lodge, no one had tried to stop me. Maybe they'd thought I was just being dramatic. Maybe they thought I'd come around and take their pathetic offer.

At first I'd driven along the roads blindly, not really having a direction, but then I'd remembered something.

Once, when I was very young, a man had come to visit my father. I remembered being fascinated because he hadn't smelled like any of the local packs, and dad had greeted him with a sort of tense wariness while he had reciprocated with what seemed like genuine friendship. He'd claimed to be an old acquaintance, from before whatever violence had driven away my parents. He took notice of me and talked to me a little. I think my main interest at the time had been horses, and he'd listened to me blather for a little bit before my father had, rather urgently dragged him off to the office to speak.

He'd left later that night, his happy demeanour strained. I could tell dad wanted him to leave without speaking to me again, but he'd made sure to stop by the staircase, where I was lingering.

"You ever need anything, you come find me, ok? Name's Rob Lossac. We're friends now, ok?"

I'd nodded foolishly and asked when he was coming to visit again.

He'd given my father a sad sort of look.

"I think this is a one time deal kiddo. But you ever come by Boston, you come say hi to Uncle Rob, you got it?"

I don't know why the memory stuck out suddenly. Maybe it was the trauma. Or maybe it was all the talk about my parent's past.

But, I figured, as I turned onto the main highway to Boston, Uncle Rob might be the only person in the world who could give me answers.

The only problem was, I hadn't forgotten dad's warning when Rob had finally left.

"Whatever you do, Raven. If you ever do see Rob again, do not ask him for anything. He's not the kind of man you want to owe any favors."

I wasn't sure what kind of situation I was heading into, but if I had anything to say about it I would find out who killed my parents...no matter the cost.

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