Chapter 3: The Empty Chair
The walk home from the Academy felt longer than the walk there. Every stone in the pavement of Redpaveley seemed to mock me. I kept seeing Wolfie's smile in the back of my mind, but it was tainted now. Every time I thought of her, I thought of the "contract."
When I pushed open the door to our small, stone-walled house, the smell hit me immediately. It wasn't the usual scent of dust and synthetic blood. It was rich, savory—roast meats, rosemary, and expensive wine.
My father, Drac, was standing by the hearth. He had traded his travel-worn coat for a tailored black suit that looked like it cost more than our car. He looked like the nobleman he used to be back in the city before the betrayal.
"Get changed, Drayan," he said, not even looking up from the table he was meticulously setting. "Our guests will be here in an hour."
"I'm not hungry," I said, my voice echoing the hollow feeling in my chest.
Drac finally looked at me. His eyes were sharp, reflecting the firelight. "This isn't a meal, son. It's an introduction. The family we are joining... they are the heart of this village. Without them, we are just two more refugees. With them, we have a future."
"A future you bought for me," I snapped, my hands curling into fists. "You sold the apartment to pay the debt, but you sold me to buy a reputation."
Drac didn't flinch. "I chose a girl who could bring you back to life, Drayan. I've seen the way you've been since your mother... since she left us. You're a ghost. I'm just trying to give you a reason to be solid again."
I didn't argue. There was no point. I went to my room and pulled out the only suit I owned. It was charcoal gray and a little tight in the shoulders. As I straightened my collar, I looked at the locket on my nightstand. I'm sorry, Mom, I thought. I don't think I'm the person you wanted me to be.
An hour later, the heavy iron knocker on our front door sounded. Thud. Thud. Thud. My heart hammered in sync with the noise. Drac opened the door, and a gust of cold winter air swept in, bringing with it a scent I recognized instantly. It was the scent of the woods—of cedar, rain, and something primal.
"Welcome, welcome!" Drac's voice was uncharacteristically warm.
I stood in the shadows of the hallway, watching as three figures entered. First, a large man with a barrel chest and a handshake that looked like it could crush stone. Behind him was a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes. And then...
She stepped into the light of our living room.
Wolfie wasn't in her scuffed Academy boots anymore. She was wearing a deep emerald dress that made her amber eyes glow. She looked around our modest house with the same curious, friendly expression she'd had at the gate. But when her eyes landed on me standing in the hall, she froze.
"Drayan?" she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and something I couldn't quite read.
"You two have met?" Wolfie's father asked, his booming voice filling the room. He looked at Drac with a wide, wolfish grin. "Well, that makes things easier, doesn't it?"
Drac beamed, placing a hand on my shoulder—a grip that told me to stay silent and play my part. "It seems destiny is faster than we are. Drayan, Wolfie... I believe you both know why we are here tonight."
We sat at the long wooden table, the atmosphere thick with things unsaid. On one side sat the vampires—pale, still, and quiet. On the other side sat the werewolves—radiating heat, their movements quick and full of energy. In Redpaveley, we lived together, but tonight, the line between our kinds felt like a canyon.
"So," Wolfie's father said, tearing into a piece of bread. "The city boy. My daughter tells me you're a bit of a brooder. Not much of a talker, are you?"
I looked at Wolfie. She was staring at her plate, her usual cheerfulness replaced by a tense silence. She knew. She had to know now.
"I have a lot on my mind, sir," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my head.
"Call me Silas," he said. "And don't worry. The transition from the city to the pack can be rough. But we take care of our own. Once the union is official, you'll find that being a part of this family means you'll never have to look over your shoulder again."
Wolfie finally looked up. Her eyes weren't bright anymore; they were searching mine, looking for the boy she'd teased at the gate. "Is this what you meant?" she asked, her voice so quiet only my vampire ears could catch it. "When you said you had things to deal with?"
I couldn't answer. I just stared at her, realized that the girl I was falling for and the "cage" my father had built were the exact same person