It took my Aunt Grace four more days to die. She fought for each breath along the way. Mercifully, for most of it, she was unconscious. Molly brought a cot in so I could lie beside her and hold her hand.

They were angels, these women. Molly and Dr. Olivet. They gave my aunt enough morphine so she felt no pain. They brought me soup and tea and sat with her during the times I just needed a few minutes to myself so she’d never be alone. I knew she was about to leave me when she finally opened her eyes and smiled.

“Don’t try to talk,” I said. “Save your strength.”

“Oh, I’m strong enough for where I’m going, honey.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have run off. I should have listened to you and stayed away from the Pack.”

Grace took my hand in hers. Her lips were dry and cracked. I took a wet cloth and dabbed them. She was grateful for the few drops of water it gave her, but she couldn’t manage to drink anymore.

“It was time. My time. Your time. These people. Do they know what’s coming? Can they get you somewhere safe?”

I reared back, realizing Aunt Grace had been more aware of her surroundings than I realized. Maybe she’d heard us talking. It was hard to say.

“I think so. I think I’m as safe here as anywhere.”

“The big wolf. The Alpha. He’s yours.” At first, I thought she’d meant it as a question, then, as Aunt Grace’s old, gray eyes locked with mine, I knew it was a declaration.

“I don’t...we haven’t…”

“Shhh. Shhh. Don’t try so hard.” Aunt Grace’s voice trailed off into a fit of coughs that etched new lines of agony across her face. She held her hand up to ward me off when I tried to give her more water.

“Listen to me,” she said. “I don’t have a lot of time, honey.”

“I have so many things to ask you,” I gasped. “I’m not finished. You’re not finished. Dr. Olivet is good at what she does. Just hang on. She’ll find a way.”

“No. She won’t. And it’s okay. I think I like it here. It’s quiet. It feels safe. And I was tired of looking at the same four walls anyway.”

“Aunt Grace,” I blurted. “Please. You have to tell me. I have to know.”

As we locked eyes again, she knew what I meant. She settled deeper against her pillow, as if she were finally accepting what I’d asked.

“Able,” she said. “He’s old. But he’s more dangerous than they think. You tell them that. He knows exactly what he’s doing. All the time. He keeps the Pack as weak as he can but as strong as he needs them. Never forget that. He’s lived a long time. Longer than any Alpha in existence. But, Rowan...he’s not immortal. Don’t forget that either.”

“But how, how do you know all these things? Aunt Grace, who am I? I don’t even know my last name.”

She smiled and lifted her hand to touch my face. “You’re Rowan. I named you Rowan because I thought it was beautiful just like you. And no, I am not your real aunt. You’ve known that all along. But, he brought you to me. Just like he brought all the other little ones. The ones who lived long enough. You weren’t supposed to. Every day, then every week, then every month was supposed to be the last. But you kept growing. Kept getting stronger. But even when you were little, you sensed that could bring trouble. You know you were only two the first time you pretended to be sick in front of one of the Pack?”

“No, I don’t remember. I don’t remember any of it. Who were the others?”

Grace got that faraway look again, her eyes misted. Then, she dropped her hand and stared off. “Little Rowan. Turning three, then four. I begged him. Reminded him how much I’d done for him. I was foolish enough to think he would agree with me that he owed me something. But, in the end, he let me have you. His little project was a failure, but you weren’t. You were a miracle. He was too blinded by his own lust for power and perfection, he didn’t see it.”

“Who?” I touched her shoulder. “Able Valent?”

She patted my arm. “Who else, honey? He used to be my brother.”

Used to be? It was such a strange way to word it, but I instantly understood. She meant before...before he became the Chief Alpha. Then, a new horror ripped through my heart.

“Grace? Is he...my father?”

Her eyes became clear and she met my gaze. “No!” Her voice was clear and strong. “He was not your father. Everything I’ve said about your real father is the truth, Rowan. He’s dead. I never knew your mother. She wouldn’t have survived your birth. None of them did.”

“None of who?” I was desperate. She was fading. My heart broke.

“Just keep taking your medicine, Rowan. Do whatever you have to to get it. Bill Harvey is a friend. He’ll know what to do.”

She’d rallied, but now Aunt Grace’s body gave out. She slumped back on the bed. I gathered her into my arms and kissed her cheek. She was getting so cold. The effort of what she’d said had drained what little strength she had left.

I wouldn’t cry. Not now. I knew it caused her stress when I did. Her breathing finally grew more steady and peaceful. I felt her go slack in my arms. The minutes passed and Aunt Grace fell asleep. My own eyelids felt heavy. I sank into the pillows and dozed off right along with her.

Later, a gentle hand on my shoulder roused me. Suzanne’s dark eyes hovered in front of me, creasing in a sad smile.

“She’s gone, Rowan. You can let go now.”

I looked down and Aunt Grace’s sweet face squeezed my heart. She looked like she was sleeping. Dreaming, even. As she nestled her head against my arm, her smile froze in place.

I didn’t cry then either. I let Suzanne help me slide out from under Grace’s body. Suzanne said calming things. Promised to take care of Grace now. Told me how she’d suffered no pain. I listened, nodded, and put one foot in front of the other.

Then, Molly was there. She put a gentle hand beneath my elbow and led me down the darkened corridor. I had no idea where we were even going. Molly must have said, but I couldn’t hear her, couldn’t process anything. We emerged into another cavern. This was larger than most of the others. At the center, a hidden spring bubbled up. Steam danced across the water’s surface. She’d left me a pile of clean, folded clothes and some toiletries.

“Take some time to yourself,” Molly said. “We’ll take care of your aunt. It’s going to be all right.”

I turned to her. “She wasn’t my aunt.” I don’t know why I said that then. It sounded cold and harsh to my own ears, but I didn’t know how to be any different. I didn’t know how to feel at all.

Molly smiled and reached up to tuck a hair behind my ear. It felt maternal. She couldn’t be more than a few years older than me. I almost laughed. That’s the one thing I’d forgotten to ask Grace. I still didn’t know how old I was.