Chapter 85

Aria

The woman embraced me tightly, as if she had known me for years. But I had no idea who she was. At least, not until Lucas suddenly turned and blurted out, “Nana!”

Nana?

With a warm grin, the woman pulled away from me and stretched her arms out wide. Lucas practically barrelled into her embrace, but the force of his body slamming into hers didn’t seem to make her waver in the slightest.

“There’s the little scamp,” she teased, ruffling his brown locks. “Last I saw you, you were just a pup.”

Lucas beamed up at her. “Well, now I’m a boy!”

The woman chuckled. “I can see that.”

Behind us, the guards shifted somewhat uncomfortably, their eyes still fixed on me. The woman sighed and turned to them. “Go on now,” she said, waving her hand toward the door. “You’re making our Luna uncomfortable.”

One of the guards opened his mouth, as if to argue, but seemed to think better of it under her pointed gaze. They filed out reluctantly, and the tension in the room lessened as soon as the door closed behind them.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

The woman turned back to me, her smile softening. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble. Some of our people have… strong opinions about outsiders.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just shook my head. “It’s fine,” I murmured.

She rose to her feet, extending a hand. “I’m Wendy,” she said warmly. “I’m Darren’s grandmother.”

The name clicked into place, and my eyes widened slightly. Darren had mentioned his grandmother when he had told me about his sister’s death. His grandmother was the woman who had raised him after his mother passed away. And she was the Acting Luna of the pack.

Before I came along, anyway.

I stood, taking her hand hesitantly. Her fingers were warm and soft with wrinkles, but her grip was firm. “Aria,” I said softly. “It’s… nice to meet you, Luna.”

Wendy chuckled as she pulled her hand away. “You’re the Luna now. Just call me Wendy. Now… Let’s get you properly settled,” she said, moving toward a small cart in the corner of the room. It was stocked with a silver coffee pot and porcelain cups.

She poured two cups for us, adding a splash of cream and a cube of sugar to each, and handed one to me as she sat across from me by the fire.

I took the cup, the warmth of it soothing my cold fingers. But as I stared at the dark coffee and light cream swirling together, a nervous knot formed in my stomach. The memory of Tracy’s betrayal was still too fresh, and I found myself hesitating, wondering if I should trust taking a drink from a stranger—even Darren’s own grandmother.

Wendy noticed my pause and chuckled, raising her own cup to her lips. She took a pointed sip, as if to prove that the drink was untainted. “Don’t worry, my dear. Only Tracy is wild enough to pull a stunt like that. It’s just coffee.”

Her tone was light, but there was a sharpness beneath her words that made me wonder just how angry she was with Tracy. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Blushing, I lifted the cup to my lips and took a tentative sip. The flavor was rich and bold, smoother than any coffee I’d ever had before. “It’s delicious,” I admitted softly.

“Only the best beans,” Wendy said with a wink. “They’re imported from the human world. Expensive, but worth every penny.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You import human goods here? I guess I thought the pack would be… I don’t know, more self-sufficient.”

“Oh, we are,” Wendy said, setting her cup down on the small table beside her. “But even the elders can’t deny that humans have perfected certain things. Coffee, chocolates… any werewolf who claims complete isolation from the human world is a liar.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. There was something disarming about her candor, something that made me feel a little less out of place here. I sipped my coffee quietly, letting her words sink in.

After a moment, Wendy leaned back in her chair, her gaze softening as she studied me. She pushed a strand of silver hair over her shoulder, her earrings and multiple silver bangles clinking pleasantly as she moved.

“You know,” she began, “Darren never stopped talking about you. That angelic girl who saved his life as a pup.”

My cheeks burned again, and I looked down at my cup. “He mentioned that?” I asked quietly.

“More times than I can count,” Wendy said with a quiet laugh. “He was just a boy then, but he remembered every detail. You did save his life, after all.” But then she lowered her voice. “But keep it between us. Not everyone here would take kindly to the idea of their Alpha being rescued by a human.”

I nodded, understanding the implications. It seemed not many people knew about our history together. Although, they would likely find out soon. Perhaps Darren was telling them as we spoke.

“Well, I’m glad to finally meet you after all these years,” Wendy continued. “And I’m even gladder to see that he’s found you again.”

There was no malice in her words, no trace of the hatred I’d seen in so many of the other pack members. She meant it. And for the first time since I arrived here, I felt like maybe I wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

We sat like that for a while, sipping our coffee and talking. Wendy told me stories about Darren and his sister as children, about the mischief they would get into and the adventures they’d have in the forest surrounding the pack lands. I found myself laughing more than I expected, picturing a younger, more carefree Darren.

“Did you know,” Wendy said, “that Darren once climbed to the very top of the tallest tree in the forest because he wanted to see if he could touch the sky?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s hard to picture him doing something like that. He’s so…”

“Grumpy!” Lucas chimed in, to which both Wendy and I burst into laughter.

“He got stuck halfway down, you know,” Wendy added with a chuckle. “I had to climb up myself to get him. And I was sixty-seven at the time!”

Wendy must have been in excellent health, if she was climbing trees to rescue her grandson. She hardly looked a day over fifty now; the only marks of her age were the crow’s feet around her eyes and the smile lines edging her mouth, her weathered hands and silver hair. But her sparkling eyes and lithe, upright posture spoke of a woman much younger than her years.

Did werewolves age more slowly than humans, I wondered?

The thought made my chest tighten a little. Unbidden, images of Darren and I being together slipped back into my mind. I saw myself, much older and hunched, next to Darren—still young and spry, outliving me far beyond my years.

It wasn’t the most pleasant thought. And if that was the case, it felt like yet another roadblock in the way of us ever actually being together.

But thankfully, Wendy, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil, kept me busy with more hilarious stories from Darren’s childhood—like a story about how he’d once broken a vase and tried to glue it back together, but got the pieces all wrong.

I was still laughing when the door to the council room creaked open. Darren stepped into the room, his expression tense at first, but it softened as his eyes landed on us. He crossed the room quickly, pulling Wendy into a tight embrace.

“Grandmother,” he murmured, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to hers in a display of affection I’d never seen him exhibit before. The sight made my heart flutter a little, and I looked away to give them some privacy as I sipped my coffee.

When they pulled apart, Darren’s hands remained on his grandmother’s shoulders for a lingering moment. He then turned to me, his eyes flicking between me and Wendy. He seemed almost relieved to see us together.

“The elders have much to discuss,” he finally said, smoothing down his sweater. “But you’ll be expected to attend dinner with them tonight, Aria. I’ll be there, of course.”

My stomach twisted, and I felt the color drain from my face. “Dinner?” I repeated, setting down my coffee cup with trembling hands.

Wendy reached over and patted my hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry,” she said with a kind smile. “With my grandson by your side, nothing bad can happen to you. He is the strongest Alpha we’ve ever had.”