Intuition

Another week passed. Eve had remained in her wolf form the entire time. Bastian continually checked on her and joined her on her daily runs but Eve had begun to distance herself from him again.

Flint had been in the area behind the house where Candor’s letter was supposed to be arriving. Elijah had placed a different envelope in the mailbox for the traitor. There had been no movement at the residence, much to Flint’s displeasure.

The tracker who’d been assigned to watch the place had been avoiding the Alpha. That was fine with Flint. The less pack members he came across, the less chance he would hurt one of them. His aggression had been mounting with each passing day.

The illusive pull in his chest, that he once thought was pulling him toward Eve, had stopped. The lack of this small sensation somehow left a huge absence within him. He had been trying to do as he was taught and hone his fury. But his focus was skewing with every twinge in his mate’s chest.

He was sitting on the hill overlooking the old brick house, as he had been doing for days. On this day, however, things changed. A car pulled into the driveway, stopping beside the mailbox. Flint immediately took notice, moving closer.

He still couldn’t make out who was driving. He could feel through the link that the tracker had seen this person as well. Flint knew the tracker didn’t recognize the driver, either. Flint followed the silver sedan as it backed out of the driveway and headed out of the neighborhood.

Ten minutes later, the silver sedan pulled into a familiar area. This was the same part of the territory where Joshua lived. In fact, many of the older wolves had settled nearby. Flint stopped several meters away from the garage where the car pulled in to park.

The house was familiar but Flint couldn’t place when he’d been there. The longest few seconds passed before the car door opened. He saw a very familiar old woman get out of the driver’s seat. Her silver hair sent a wave of anger down the Alpha’s spine. Flint shifted into his human form. He cracked his neck as he stood, preparing for the ensuing fight.

He walked toward the house and spotted a clothes line in the backyard next door. Flint grabbed a pair of red sweatpants off the line, tugging them on. He felt the tracker nervously watching him as he approached the door. He rapped his knuckles against it anyway.

Flint knew the power he gave off was unmistakable. Whoever answered the door, would have already known who was knocking. The tracker had already alerted Elijah that the recipient of the letter had been found.

Flint could feel that his father was already on the way. However, he refused to wait. He simply couldn’t. The door sung open, revealing a familiar face. The brown eyes in front of him, set the Alpha’s soul on fire.

“Alpha Flint, good afternoon.” Clark greeted him with a curious expression.

Flint pushed the door open and brushed passed the old man, entering his home. Clark’s mate was coming out of an adjacent room. She met Flint’s gaze and he could see the fear she was experiencing. In her chest, he felt a nervous fluttering. She was more than worried about the Alpha’s sudden appearance.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Clark asked seriously as he approached.

Flint kicked him in the shin, knocking the old man to the ground. His mate yelped and scurried to his side.

“You tell me! Why am I here?!” Flint growled.

“You need to calm down!” The woman shrieked as she helped her husband to his feet.

“Alice, don’t.” Clark hissed at his mate.

“Who is ‘Candor’? An old friend?” The Alpha’s voice dropped several octaves.

Alice’s eyes widened as she looked at her husband. She was as alarmed as she was confused. Clark, on the other hand, had the expression of a cornered man.

“You have to listen to me, Flint. Let’s talk.” The old wolf spoke in an even tone.

“Start talking!” The Alpha barked impatiently.

The sound of a vehicle approaching halted the moment. In mere minutes, Elijah entered the home’s open threshold. He took in the situation in front of him with a tense, serious gaze.

“Relax, boy. We need answers.” He grunted at his son.

Flint couldn’t tear his eyes away from the old man in front of him. The power coming from his chest was palpable in the air, along with his rage.

“Elijah. Finally, a sensible person.” Clark sighed.

“Have a seat Clark. Alice, be a good girl and fetch that letter you picked up today.” He replied in a flat, stern tone.

Alice looked at her mate wearily. He nodded curtly, before she walked back into the adjacent room. Clark hobbled to the old, leather couch and sat on it heavily. Flint observed him closely as his father sat in the armchair across from the old man. Alice returned a moment later to take an anxious seat beside her mate.

“Who sent you this?” Elijah held up the envelope.

“It wasn’t sent to me. My wife and I just watch the place. I was friends with the family that lived there before they died out.” Clark explained in a flat tone.

“So you happened across it?” Elijah raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“No. Every week, Alice checks the mail. I pay to keep the property clean. It’s just a routine.” He replied.

“Why would this letter, end up in your hands?” He probed.

“I have no idea. I don’t even know what’s in that envelope! Maybe they sent it to the house of a dead man, not knowing that I kept up the place. I don’t know!” Clark sounded indignant to the questions he was being asked.

Flint had been analyzing Clark since Elijah’s arrival. Grace kept shooting her mate nervous glances. Meanwhile, the elder had been grouchy and defensive. One would say he was acting like he usually did. Flint, however, felt his answers were rehearsed. There were no feelings behind them. Only pensive thought and twinges of worry.

“You’re lying!” Flint growled deeply. “You can tell the truth on your own or I get the pleasure of RIPPING IT OUT OF YOU MYSELF!”