(Audrey’s POV)
The mansion felt quieter after Elder William’s funeral, though not in a way that brought peace. It was the suffocating silence of loss. Every corner seemed to hold a memory of him, echoing the absence of his commanding yet kind presence.
I walked into the study where George Thompson waited. His usually calm and composed face was etched with exhaustion. The weight of grief weighed heavily on both of us. On the desk were neat stacks of Elder William’s personal items, and around us, the scent of old wood and faint lavender lingered-a scent he’d always favored.
“Thank you for staying to help, Miss Audrey,” George said, his voice a shadow of its usual steadiness.
I nodded, my throat tight. “It’s the least I can do, considering all he’s done for me. For everyone.”
My hands hovered over a pair of gloves he often wore during council meetings. Picking them up brought with it a fresh wave of memories. His stern, protective voice guiding me when I first entered the pack. His light chuckle during our private conversations. The way he always treated me with such respect, even when others doubted my place here.
Each item George and I sorted through seemed to carry echoes of Elder William. It was as if a part of him still lived within the fabric of his belongings.
“George,” I began softly, “do you think-”
Before I could complete my thought, the growing suspicion gnawed its way to the surface. The medicine pouch. The candies. Victoria.
“Do you think it’s possible Elder William replaced the medicine himself?” I asked, the question pulling sharply at my gut. My instincts were like a taut bowstring, ready to snap, yet I struggled to fully articulate what I feared.
George looked at me with a frown, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered my words. “Unlikely,” he said, the thought weighing on his words. “No matter how stubborn he could be, medicine was… life or death for him. William wouldn’t tamper with something so crucial.”
“Then where’s the medicine?” I pressed, frustration lacing my words. My voice cracked slightly, the desperation creeping through.
George’s response was measured. “That’s the question. I checked every drawer, every space where he might’ve misplaced it. Nothing. It’s gone.”
The certainty in his tone made my wolf growl quietly inside me. The missing medicine and those candies painted too clear a picture for me to ignore. My instincts screamed that Victoria’s actions weren’t as innocent as they seemed, but the lack of hard evidence kept the truth just out of reach.
I moved towards the small side desk, my fingers brushing over a silver moonstone bracelet resting atop a pillow of velvet. It had been one of Elder William’s favorites. I picked it up, holding it delicately in my hand.
“Can I…” I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “Can I keep this? Just… as a memory of him?”
George’s expression softened, the lines of his face easing ever so slightly. He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “He would want you to have it.”
My chest tightened, and I cradled the bracelet in my hands for a moment of silence.
—
George soon returned, carrying with him two ornate wooden boxes. The details carved into their surfaces were intricate, the kind of craftsmanship that spoke of history and care.
“These,” George began, his voice heavy with emotion, “are from Elder William’s private vault. He prepared them for…” He hesitated, his eyes flickering to meet mine. “Your unborn pups.”
My breath hitched, my heart suddenly pounding loudly in my chest. “He… knew?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
George nodded, tears forming in his eyes. “He knew. And he honored your wish to keep it from Arthur. But he wanted to do something for you-to ensure your children would always carry his protection.”
He opened the first box carefully, revealing a silver pendant. Its delicate chain sparkled faintly, and engraved on the pendant were ancient wolf pack symbols. It radiated a protective charm so warm it made my hands tremble.
Opening the second box, George revealed another pendant, equally beautiful but without the pack engravings. A thoughtful choice, representing flexibility, individuality-a subtle way of showing he’d considered the life I might choose to lead for my pups.
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