24
Aggie
T he day after the Full moon, I darken the snow-lined path of Aggie's house. Jay's busy with the Pack, helping the grieving family in any way he can. The Lynx was named Beth. A stranger to me, which is why I stayed behind. As Alpha, everyone is looking to Jay now. I have to begrudgingly accept that his new leadership, the grieving families and Hunters in the Hollow, is taking up most of his time.
Even if I selfishly wish he was spending every waking second with me.
I can't sit at the Cabin anymore today, though. If I do, I might go crazy or start running and just never stop.
Will we ever stop feeling the urge to bolt at every turn? I ask my wolf, not really expecting an answer.
Maybe. She replies, golden eyes flashing.
Beyond my inability to sit still today, Aggie is the only one I have ever been able to talk to about what happened with Dad. There is no use in even trying with Mom. She hates Dad for dying, for leaving her behind. I know she's grieving and has never really gotten over his death. I can understand that, but I can't talk to her about that night. She breaks down too easily.
Her perception of the night has been skewed and twisted so much that I don't think she even knows what happened anymore.
It's just another yawning ocean between us. I love my mother, but... She just can't see beyond her own broken heart to see the damage she's wrought all on her own.
Despite Sam's encouragement, I'm confused by what's happening between Jay, Saint, and me.
Aggie is the only person I can think of who would be able to give me some advice.
Or at least I hope she has a spark of insightful wisdom to impart to me, a direction to take, or something.
As I make my way up the small set of stairs at Aggie's, I can't help but wish for the lush greenery of summer to come back. I'm over the endless slushy mess that is snow. The deep cold, the barren branches. Not to mention that the clover smells so good in the springtime.
Aggie's pink door is already open, letting the oppressive warmth from her oven out of the small kitchen. It smells like freshly made cookies, and if I'm not mistaken, her famous cookies and cream roll—a thin layer of chocolate cake rolled around a decadent vanilla creme.
A glance at the table just inside the door tells me I am right. Cooling racks laden with cookies crowd the table, and another tray full of fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies yet to be transferred sits on the stove. And I knew I smelled that delicious cookie and cream roll–it's sitting proudly atop a raised cake stand, dusted in powdered sugar and drizzled with ganache.
"Afternoon, Aggie," I greet as I cross the threshold to her home. She's wearing the same old threadbare apron, long-sleeved shirt, and jeans, all of which are dotted with flour, sugar, or batter.
"Good to see you, Artemis. What are you doing over here? Don't those boys of yours keep you busy?" She laughs, rearranging cookies to make space for us to sit and talk. I'm sure this is the first time she's sat down in a while. Some things never change.
"Oh, they do, but I think I might kill one of them today if they don't stop hovering," I grouse, only half joking. The small amount of time Jay had been home this morning consisted of fucking like wild animals, lots of hushed kisses, and his overbearing presence demanding my promises to keep out of the forest.
Then Saint pulled me down into the gym and forced me to work out upon threat of not making me breakfast. I almost gutted him.
"They care about you; it can't be that bad," Aggie chuckles, then asks, "Want something to drink?"
"Sure, thanks. Some juice, please," I answer, settling into a chair.
"Here you go," Aggie says just a second later, lowering herself into the chair across from me. "So, tell me how torturous it is to live with a boy ," my aunt laughs, making me chuckle lightly.
I shouldn't be surprised that we're already getting into it; this is the entire reason I came over. Before answering, I swipe a peanut butter chip cookie from one of the many trays, taking an overtly aggressive bite. "It's not …I just don't know what to do."
"What do you mean?"
" I care about both of them," I answer, hoping she understands what I mean by just that before practically inhaling the rest of my cookie.
"Ahhh," Aggie hums, smirking at me. "And you want to know about Triads?" She sips from her glass, peering at me over the rim.
I gulp before answering with a simple " yes."
"They are tricky for some. Forcing it won't work. You have to know that, right?" Aggie says, selecting a sugar cookie with pink frosting to nibble on.
" Nothing about this feels forced."
Aggie smiles softly, saying, "Good. That's good. That's how it had been for us, too."
I nod, remembering pictures she used to dig out on holidays, smoothing her hands over the fading images of her lost loves. They were all Enforcers together, but her partners were killed while protecting our Pack from rivals trying to take over the Hollow before I was born.
"So what am I supposed to do ?"
Aggie lets me whine, watching me drop my head on the back of my chair. "I imagine you'd start by telling the one you're dating," she chuckles, wiping cookie crumbs from her shirt.
I roll my eyes and say, "That's all the advice you have for me?"
"Yes, my darling. It's not some magical bond," She huffs a laugh again, rolling her eyes at me now. "I don't know how it will work with Jay's becoming Alpha, but if it hasn't caused any problems yet, then I doubt it will in the future."
" Ugh , thanks," I grumble, swiping another cookie.
"Is that all you came over for? So I could tell you what you already know and steal my cookies?"
"No," I sigh, "I'm hoping for a slice of that cake, too."
Aggie burst out a laugh, and it makes me smile. "Oh, is that all?"
"No, I wanted to talk to you about something else, too."
"Well, out with it," Aggie says, finishing her cookie.
"Do you remember anything specific about the night Dad died?" I ask.
If there is one thing I appreciate about talking with Aggie, it's that you don't have to circle round and round before saying what you actually mean. You can cut straight to the point.
"Define specific," Aggie counters, scrunching her eyebrows together.
"Did I describe any of the hunters to anyone? Are there records I can go look at? Is there anything of use that I can see?"
"I'd have to ask around, why? What has you thinking about that night?"
"You mean you aren't thinking about what happened with Dad with Hunters around and bodies piling up?" I fire back, avoiding telling her the gross truth.
"That's not what I said. Don't forget Virgil is my brother, not just your dad. What aren't you telling me?" As always, Aggie knows when to put me in my place.
I sigh again before telling her what I've figured out about the Whites, my assumption that they probably know my secret. I can't help but wonder if the Whites are the same people responsible for Dad. She takes it all in, dark eyes searching the ceiling for something—a hope, or maybe she's conversing with the souls of who she's lost.
"I can tell you, from what I remember, the Hunter who killed your father was a woman. Middle-aged, wearing camouflage. Despite what Magnus believes happened that night, hunters who prey on our kind don't wear camo, my dear. They wear tactical gear and carry an abundance of weaponry. I don't think what happened to your dad and what is happening now is connected, But I'll go look around. Ask around. Okay?"
Her words send my breath whooshing out, and when I think back to what Ethan and his brothers had been wearing in that picture, I reluctantly agree. It makes me nearly sob aloud, hand clamped over my mouth.
I don't think I would have been able to live with myself if the Whites had been responsible for Dad's death.
My wolf's golden eyes crack open at the revelation, inky black fur rippling in the confines of my soul.
"Is that what was bothering you?" Aggie asks gently.
"Yes, I couldn't stop thinking I'd been engaged to the man who killed Dad. I've practically gnawed my fingertips down to the bone," I mention, showing my ragged fingertips. Sam and I have gotten regular manicures since she moved to the Hollow, but I haven't gone for a month.
Aggie laughs at me before pulling a loaf of banana bread out from behind a rack of cookies and placing the plate in front of me with the butter container.
"That would have been awful; you deserve this, even if I was saving it for later," Aggie says, making me choke on a laugh.
"I can share?" I offer with watery eyes, slicing the loaf in half lengthwise, and presenting the slightly smaller hunk to her.
Aggie laughs but accepts the banana bread with a nod, taking a bite out of it while I smear mine with a bit of butter.
"How have you been, Aggie?" I ask before taking a big bite.
"Good. This is my time of the year. I love it."
"Want me to send the boys over to help decorate? You don't need to be up on ladders if they're around." Aggie always had the best holiday decorations. We'd always set them up around this time of year. Neither Aggie nor I are particularly invested in any holidays around this time of the year, but we both like the lights. How…. magical a house looks when it's glowing from strings of twinkling lights. When I was a kid, she'd wrap me in a big blanket after decorating her home, shoving a steaming mug of hot chocolate in my hands.
" Artemis," Aggie says flatly, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to put the Alpha on a ladder to hang my decorations up, either."
"Sure, but then there's always Saint and Dante," I remark, shrugging. "They would do it."
Aggie doesn't say anything, chewing on her bread. I smile, knowing I've won.
"When is Family Dinner?" Aggie questions, and my face falls. She chortles, covering her mouth with her hand.
"I don't know, I was hoping everyone forgot."
"Oh no. Your mother asked me about it the other day. Someone told her it was happening," Aggie says, still chuckling.
I groan, dropping my head back to look at the ceiling. "Well, that's amazing. Love that for me."
"It'll be fine. There will be so many people there that she won't be able to focus on you."
"One can hope." I agree, trying not to stress myself out about it. "Saint will be cooking; maybe he will blow Chef Daisy o ut of the water."
"Does he do more gourmet things?" Aggie asks, taking another sip of what looks like cranberry and soda water in a fine crystal glass. The crystal has the impression of leaves stamped into it. Her favorite drink.
"I don't think there's anything Saint can't make. If it comes from the kitchen, Saint is your guy."
"Hmm," Aggie hums, then asks, "How do you like working at the bar?"
"I love it. I'm glad you knew Ivy was looking for someone."
"She's a good shifter, that one. Takes care of her own."
"Ivy's a good friend," I agree. Knowing someone like her is exactly what I needed here.
I would have stayed with Sam if it hadn't been for Ethan's proximity to her and any life I would have tried to have for myself in California. It all worked out, though, because Sam followed me to the Hollow.
And Ivy is steady in a way I am not. I can't help but wonder if Aggie sent me towards her for that very purpose. I needed a reason to stop moving, and my family would never be that for me.
But a steadfast friend? A Pack of my very own? I could stick around for that.
"You should come by sometimes. Come up on the bar with us for fire night!" I propose, waggling my eyebrows at her.
Aggie laughs, practically howling with it. Her wolf is on the smaller side, a petite salt-and-pepper grey. My aunt's howl is a lonesome one, and it's been a long time since I've heard her make the clarion call without wanting to sob after.
She and my mom have that in common: their grief changing their wolf. Aggie, though, sees Rhea and Jeeran in everything she does. She loves them and remembers them with her every breath. Their death may have changed Aggie, but not the way Dad's death changed Mom.
Then again, My dad's death didn't change my mom's wolf the way that Aggie's had changed after Rhea and Jerran.
Everyone processes grief differently. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
"Sure, I'll do that," Aggie says, clearly only being sarcastic.
"Good. I'll tell Ivy you're in."
"Sure, you will." Aggie snorts, and I pull out my phone, raising an eyebrow.
"Won't I? Come on. You need an Aggie's night out."
"You girls will run circles around me." She says, scoffing.
"Or you'll show us all your killer moves that landed you in a triad all those years ago and teach us a thing or two." I counter, snagging another cookie from the table.
"Not very likely, but alright. I'll come; I promise no bar dancing, though."