Page 1 of The Alpha Dire Wolf (Bloodlines & Bloodbonds #1)

Sylvie

The day it all started, I woke up, and my instinct told me it was going to be a bad day. Talk about an understatement. Getting dumped for a side piece was just the appetizer. From there, it only got worse …

“C an this wait?” I struggled with my jacket, the inner lining adhering to the sleeves of my blouse and messing it all up as I tried to put it on. “Stupid thing. I’m sorry, Caidyn, but I really need to go. I don’t have time to talk. You know I can’t be late again.”

“No, it can’t.”

I froze mid-jacket struggle. When Caidyn talked like that, short and snippy, it was usually easier just to listen. If I didn’t, things would only get worse. But my temper wasn’t simply going to take the sudden outburst lying down.

“Okay then,” I said, eyeing him as he waited near the front door, also ready to go. Leather jacket draped casually over one arm, shoulder resting on the wall, he was the picture of impatience.

“Okay?” He blinked rapidly, befuddlement clouding his bright baby blue eyes.

I sighed, running out of patience so early in the morning. At least he’s handsome . “Yes. Okay then. Spit it out already if it’s that important.”

“Can you at least stop and listen to me?” he said, standing tall to compensate for the shortness of my words.

“No,” I said, continuing to force the jacket up over my shirt. It would have to do. Wrinkles or not, I was nearly out of time. “Tell me what’s bothering you so I can go to work.”

I could make it up to him later, somehow. Maybe by stopping and picking up another bottle of that new red wine we’d tried with dinner the other week. That and some junk food, and we could fix this all up. Whatever it was.

“Sylvie, I think you should know something.” He fidgeted, his fingers wringing themselves out under his jacket. “I’ve found someone else.”

The metaphorical bottle of wine slipped from my fingers, shattering as it hit the ground. Pieces of razor-sharp glass pierced the perfect little bubble I’d been building about my life.

“Sylvie—”

I raised a hand, cutting him off. “You’re breaking up with me. Is that what you’re saying?” I had to be certain, to be sure of what I was hearing.

Caidyn refused to look me in the eyes, instead staring off to one side. “I’ve been trying to find ways to tell you, Syl. When the time was right.”

I laughed, shocking myself. “The time was right before you went looking for someone else .” There was no rage or anger, no shouting. Just stoic disbelief. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. But it was.

“I’m sorry, Syl. I am. I promise.”

“My name,” I said gratingly, “is Sylvie.”

In that moment, I never wanted to hear him say my name in any format again. Ever.

The arms of my jacket seemed to slide on easily now, the materials recognizing what was going on and ceasing to fight me over it.

I zipped it up and glanced at the door behind Caidyn.

Had he planned this, planned to block my exit?

Just like he’d planned to go shopping the sales rack for new girlfriends?

The shock was real, and it was hitting me like a cement truck.

I had gone from thinking of salvaging a rocky morning in our relationship to discovering that there was no relationship.

It had failed. Not only that, but it had done so a while ago.

Caidyn wouldn’t be ending things with me if he wasn’t already nice and cozy with his side piece.

“Please, Sylvie, you have to—”

My hand shot out, palm upward. “Key, please.”

“What?” he looked down at my hand and then back up, finally meeting my gaze.

Coward .

“The key I gave you to my apartment,” I said sharply. “I want it in my palm, ten seconds ago. Then I want you out of the apartment, and I don’t want you ever coming back. You’re banned. I’m trespassing you. Now give me my key and get out! ”

By the end, I was shouting at him. Shock was morphing to anger as all the wasted time, two whole years of it, came racing back to slap me in the face.

Caidyn shook his head, licking his lips and trying to get a word in, but I just repointed at the door emphatically and kept telling him to get out. He grew angrier, almost like he wanted more of a reaction, but I wasn’t giving it to him.

Cheating assholes get nothing from me. Not now, not ever.

“Fine.” He pulled out his keyring, all but ripping the bundle apart in his haste to get my key off it.

Slapping it into my palm, he pulled the door open with a glare and left. I stared at the door for too long. I needed to get moving. What was I waiting for? Him to come back through, announce it was all a joke, and say we were fine? Ha. Wasn’t going to happen. Not with Caidyn.

“What the eff was that?” I moaned to the suddenly very empty apartment. Sagging forward, I banged my forehead off the door in frustration. “ I found someone else . Seriously? Who does that?”

After a few morose moments of self-pity and the like, I took a deep breath. No way was I going to let that asshole ruin my entire day. Work could do that well enough. It didn’t need help. I was going to put Caidyn on the back burner. Maybe even just toss him in the trash.

I think I surprised myself with the lack of instant depression and tears that followed the sudden dumping/cheating confession. After all, that’s what a girl is supposed to do. Isn’t it? So why was I more upset about the time I’d wasted on him than anything else?

Probably shock. Give it time, Syl. It’ll come for you when you least expect it.

Maybe.

The truth was, my instinct had been giving me subtle warning signs for months now.

In the past, I had always trusted it. That tightening sensation in my stomach or the more intense prickling of claws that would make their way up and down my spine if something really bad was about to happen.

It had never led me astray. I had learned to trust it implicitly, far more than anyone else I knew.

To me “trust your gut” was not just a saying.

It was a very literal way of life, and it never failed me, as long as I listened to it

And the current lack of impending doom emanating from it was a clear sign that I was going to be okay. Things would be okay.

If I got to work on time, that is.

Hurrying to put my shoes on, I checked my watch. I still had time to make the next subway.

If nothing else …

The ancient buzzer next to the door lit up at the same time the sleep-destroying blare filled the apartment.

Furious that he was back whining already, I stabbed my index finger down on the button hard enough to cause the brittle plastic to groan in protest. “What do you want? I told you to go away!”

A momentary silence followed.

“Uh, ma’am? Is this a Miss Sylvie Wilson? Sylvie Anne Wilson?” a young sheepish voice replied.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” I said hurriedly. “I’m sorry. I thought you were my ex that I just tossed out.”

The buzzer let out a heavily distorted snort. “That makes perfect sense. Sorry to hear about that, but no, I have a letter for you.”

I stared at the intercom. “A letter? Via courier?”

“I just deliver, ma’am.”

“Right, right, of course. I’m on my way down.”

Finishing up inside, I grabbed the elevator, both grateful and curious about this newfound distraction.

A young man who could barely sport facial hair waited in a bright blue-green skintight outfit, his expensive road bike propped up next to him. He tapped one foot on the ground impatiently until he saw me walking toward him, at which point he stood up straight.

“You weren’t joking,” I said as he handed me an envelope.

“They don’t pay me anywhere near enough for that,” he said with a light smile. “Sign here.”

I did, and he departed, hurrying off down the street to his next delivery. Judging by the gray skies above, I couldn’t blame him. His day was about to get a whole lot worse.

Flipping the letter over, my curiosity grew even stronger. The curved, flowy handwriting of my name and address could only be one person. A return address in the top left confirmed it.

“What are you up to now, Grandma?” I pondered, tapping the letter against my other hand as I walked briskly down the sidewalk and headed for the nearest subway stop.

I had missed the first train, but taking the next one still got me into the office on time, provided I didn’t stop for coffee. Just another great start to the day.

Once I got to the platform, I had a few minutes to wait, so I cracked the letter open.

My grandmother was my only known living relative.

I may have a pair of uncles still, but nobody had heard from them in decades.

As her only grandchild, she wrote me several times a year at least, but this was an express-paid delivery.

A sliver of worry entered my mind as my stomach began to tighten. That wasn’t a good sign. If my gut was telling me something was going on, I would listen to it.

Opening the letter, I was again greeted with the same flowing script. As always, she addressed it to “Vi-vi.” She was the only person who called me that. There was no better authentication in my mind.

My Dear Vi-vi,

There’s something I never told you. Something important that you should have known about, but time and circumstance were never right for me to tell you. Now it may be too late because my time is running out.

I stopped reading, immediately pulling out my cell phone and calling my grandmother’s number.

This wasn’t like her at all. She always wrote about events that happened back in my hometown, where she still lived.

She told me about her most recent bridge games, bingo nights, if she won or lost, and how so-and-so would celebrate “too arrogantly” if they won.

This was alarming.

As was the endless ringing in my ear, until her answering machine picked up.

“Grandma, it’s me. It’s Vi-vi,” I said, glancing up as light appeared in my periphery. The subway was almost here, its lights now visible in the tunnel. “I just got your letter. Call me back, okay? Please?”

My eyes ran back to the letter.

The forest, Vi-vi, it’s the key. At the heart is a darkness. You must not forget that. They did, and now it’s too late. I can’t do anything about it. I should have told you, and I’m sorry.

Frigid icicles stabbed their way down my spine as I read that paragraph, my instinct kicking in. Hard.

I didn’t wait. I turned and made a beeline for the subway exit. I would probably be fired for not coming into work, but I could find another job.

I couldn’t find another grandmother. She was all I had left.

If my instinct told me to go to her, I was going to her.

Now.