Chapter 64


    It has been a lonely week, but what did I expect? My day consists of eating breakfast, chatting with Gail


    and Theresa—the plump woman and her friend—eating lunch, listening to music or reading a book,


    hardly eating dinner, and going to bed. Throughout the day I be more and more depressed, and


    by dinner, I barely have enough fight in myself to eat. I call my mother every day and lie to her. I go on


    and on about how lovely everything is, and how I was wrong about not wanting a mate—it gives me


    something to do, to conjure up some fairytale.


    "Today we went on a walk around the pack, he showed me around and introduced me to people," I say


    to my mother, the phone up against my ear as I lie on my bed. I''ve stolen the phone from the living


    room and put it in my room, knowing Alpha Grant won''te in to take it. "It was nice. The people here


    are nice."


    N?velDrama.Org owns this text.


    "That''s great, Rae. I''m so happy things are going so well. I''ll have toe and visit someday. You''ll


    have toe and visit me when you''re not so busy with Luna duties and such."


    I frown. "Yeah, definitely." Before she can carry on with something else, like how our Luna had another


    baby, or how she helped a guard handle a rogue, I mutter, "You know, he''s waiting for me now. I should


    probably go."


    "Oh, of course, go, go," she says, sounding excited. "We''ll talk more tomorrow."


    "Okay."


    "Alright, bye dear." And just like that, I am alone again.


    I let the phone slip from my grasp, falling onto the bed beside me. Part of me wants to cry and part of


    me wants to drink, but Gail found the half-empty bottle of Vodka in the porch the morning after, so I


    thought it best to stop there. Being drunk won''t help me for long, soon enough it will lose its spark.


    Though, what do I have to lose? I have nothing anymore, and that''s terrifying me. People who have


    nothing are dangerous.


    At least I had myself at home. I don''t know where the old Rae has gone—she''s slipped away after one


    too many nights of her mate having sex with someone else. It''s the same girl, and that only makes me


    more insane. Whenever I hear here over, which is most nights, I creep away into the backyard and


    fight my urges to sprint to that odd cab and snatch myself a bottle of whatever looks numbing. I


    simply sit on the porch, feet dangling, and I cry a bit. They are quiet sobs because I am paranoid that


    someone will hear ande ask me what''s wrong. What would I say? I''ve lost everything? That I have


    nothing anymore?


    I sigh and get up, leaving the phone behind. I''ve learned my way around the house now. With nothing


    to do all day, I''ve decided to familiarize myself with the ce, looking for good ces to hide or ces


    that seem to be forgotten about. It''s arge house, too big for its own good, and yesterday I discovered


    something wonderful.


    It''s a library, small and abandoned towards the back of the house. The door to it was blocked off by a


    bookshelf filled with decorations and family pictures, something to just be there, to distract people from


    the handle behind the picture of an older man in ck and white. It would have been better hidden if


    the tall shelf had a back to it, but only my desperate eyes can find such weird details. I was studying


    the pictures, picking them up and putting them down when I found the handle. It was tricky, though,


    because the door was one of those fancy ones that blend seamlessly into the wall, like in an old castle.


    It took me a while to move the shelf. Luckily Gail and Theresa were out at the garden and Alpha Grant


    was off doing who knows what or God knows who. I managed to inch it forward just enough to fit


    myself through. Thankfully I grew into my chubby legs a few years ago.


    nning to go back, I left the shelf sticking out a bit, doubting anyone would notice. So today I only


    have to pull it out a bit further. Once inside, I rx and sit down in one of the old chairs off to the side,


    nestled between a tallmp and a small wooden table.


    I n on cleaning it up as dust coats everything, but for now, it will do. There are two walls cluttered


    with books from top to bottom beside each other. The wall across from the door has a tiny window—the


    shelves built around it—and I push back the dark curtain to let the sunlight filter through the dusty


    ss. It is a beam of light slicing through the center of the room, and I sit in the chair, watching the dust


    particles dance around in it.


    To make sure no one knows I''m here, I yank the bookshelf back in ce and close the door behind me,


    like I had never touched any of it in the first ce.


    Today I stand and sift through the books, picking up a few, flipping through the pages, then cing


    them back. There isn''t enough room in here for the shelves, the chair, and a desk, so I know it wasn''t


    someone''s study, which is great because the books are actually interesting and not full of Pack


    nonsense. On the shelf below the window, I discover something else quite interesting. Diaries. They


    are all in a row, lined up by year.


    I run my fingers over them and yank out the oldest one. I might as well start from the beginning. This


    one has a name on the inside: Julianna Grant. My eyes widen and I swiftly sit back down in the living


    chair, this must be Alpha Grant''s mother or grandmother. The book isn''t ancient, so I don''t go any


    further. I can''t help but read the first entry.