Ashlyn's POV
Eight years ago, a piece of me died with my dad. My dad had been my everything. But my Mom, my Mom was always somewhere else. Late nights at the lab working on endless research projects. She loved me quietly and distantly. But my dad loved loudly. For eight years, I believed my mom would never love again. I believed her heart had died with my Dad. But I believed wrong.
The sign came into view just as my mother's silver sedan slowed down: Bienvenue à Les Hurleurs Noirs. Which translates to Welcome to Black Howlers. I inhaled deeply. We were really here. Fifteen hours away from my old home, Brittlefalls. Fifteen hours away from my friends, my memories, my father's grave. Fifteen hours away from the life I had known.
I resented my mom silently for this. When she told me that she was seeing someone my world had shattered. And then when she'd dropped the second bomb,
"His name is Walter Calloway. He asked me to move in with him. And I said… yes."
I lost the ability to breathe. Was eight years enough time to move on? How could she let someone else slip into a space that should have belonged to Dad forever? I snapped out of my thoughts and pressed my forehead to the glass of the car window as the town unfolded around us.
I'd done some research the night before, desperate to understand where she was dragging me. Les Hurleurs Noirs was a town built on old money and power. But that wasn't what defined this place. The people did.
Ninety-nine percent of the population were werewolves. The remaining one percent were just tolerated humans and witches; outsiders who followed strict rules and never forgot whose territory this was. Wolf territory.
Mom drove deeper into town and soon, our car slowed to a stop. I lifted my head, blinking at the massive mansion that rose before me. Our car looked ridiculous parked next to it. I frowned. Surely Mom had taken a wrong turn.
But then she sighed and said quietly, "We're here."
Here. As in, this was Walter Calloway's house? I wanted to ask Mom, I wanted to demand answers, but the stubborn silence I'd sworn to keep between us kept my mouth sealed. So, my many questions remained trapped inside me.
Mom turned to me, softening her voice. "I know you're still mad at me, Ash. But please, I'm begging you… be nice." She didn't wait for a response, she just got out of the car.
I remained where I was, with my fingers digging into my thighs. Then I saw him.
Walter Calloway walked down the grand stone staircase towards Mom and pulled her into a long, lingering and intimate hug. Then he leaned in to kiss her, and she turned her head at the last second. Was it out of respect for me? I scoffed to myself.
If she truly respected me, or Dad, she wouldn't have dragged me here in the first place. If she wanted to complete the betrayal, she might as well have fucked him right there on the front steps. It wouldn't have surprised me.
I shut my eyes, determined not to look again, until a knock on the window made me flinch. Walter bent down, smiling gently, as though I were a nervous animal he didn't want to scare.
"Hi," he said warmly. "Ashlyn, right?"
I rolled the window down. Up close, he was handsome for his age.
"Your mother told me so much about you. I'm really glad you're here."
I forced a polite smile. Then he gestured towards the house. "It's a bummer you both arrived late. Come on, let me show you to your room."
Butlers appeared before I could say anything, whisking my bags away from Mom's car. I came out of the car, surprised by it, then Walter chuckled briefly.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
Inside, the mansion was quiet and big, and portraits lined the walls. The portraits were not of family, but of Walter himself. One plaque caught my eye: Beta Walter Calloway of Les Hurleurs Noirs Pack.
Beta, not Alpha. I would've taken him for an alpha with the way he carried himself. But if this was the beta's mansion… I wondered what the alpha's mansion would look like?
Just then, we reached a room on the second floor and Walter opened the door slowly.
"This will be your room," he said. The space inside was large, larger than my entire bedroom back home. It was decorated with everything a teenage girl could want.
"Anything you need," Walter added gently. "You can come to me or your mom."
"Thanks, Walter," I murmured.
He smiled. "You can call me Dad."
I was livid. How dare he? But I swallowed my rage, suffocated on it, out of respect for my mom.
I wanted her to say something in my stead. She knew Walter had gone too far. Instead, she cleared her throat and forced a smile.
"Enjoy your new room, Ashlyn. We'll be setting up things upstairs."
Coward. She wasn't going to call him out, she wasn't going to tell him to apologize. She'd rather run. I watched them leave, then I slammed the door shut. I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the chandelier overhead. My chest burned with everything I refused to say.
I eventually stood to unpack, desperate for distraction only to realize one of my bags was missing.
"Shit," I muttered. I looked out the window and saw my bag on the driveway. The butlers must have forgotten it. "Some butlers they are…"
With an irritated sigh, I made my way towards the door, ready to stomp downstairs and get my bag myself. But when I opened it, I froze with a slightly parted lips.
Across the hall, opposite my bedroom, was a boy. He was majestic, his dark hair seemed wet, like he had just finished showering. And his damp shirt clung to his perfectly sculpted body. He didn't spare me a single glance. He simply walked into his room and shut the door like I didn't even exist.
I wondered to myself, "Who are you?"
I finally recovered and went downstairs to get my bag. After getting it, I should've been asleep, drooling into the pillow on my princess-sized bed. But I couldn't, because all I could think about was him: the mystery boy from across the hall.
Who was he? If he was Walter's son, why hadn't Mom mentioned him? Why weren't there portraits of him lining the hallways like there were of Walter? It didn't add up. Every few minutes I found myself leaving my bed, creeping to the door, and pressing my ear against it, hoping to hear the creak of his door or even the sound of his footsteps.
But he never came out. The mystery was killing me. Then, I heard the sound I had been praying for: the creak of a bedroom door and the sound of footsteps in the hall. I rushed to the door and twisted the knob slowly, praying it was him.
My heart leaped, it was him, and this time, he looked at me. His eyes actually locked with mine.
My heart raced at over 120 beats per minute. And before I could talk myself out of it, I stepped into the hall fully so he could see me.
"You must be the new maid?" His voice was throaty, the kind that could make tears fall in between any girl's thighs. But his words were a total buzzkill. A maid? Seriously?
I blinked, while he tilted his head, waiting for an answer.
"No, I'm—" I started.
But he cut me off. "The new chef, then?"
I let out a nervous laugh. "No. I'm Walter's girlfriend's daughter." I said before he could cut me off again.
His expression changed. "Oh," he murmured. "You're Ashlyn. My new stepsister."
My brow furrowed. "Stepsister?"
This was Walter's son? And most importantly, I was going to be his stepsister??
"You didn't know they were getting married?" he asked.
After hearing that, my heart should've shattered right there in the hall. But the truth was, there wasn't anything left to break. My mother had already broken it hours ago when she'd told me we were moving here, when she chose Walter over Dad's memory.
I went numb, and he noticed. I could see it in his eyes. For a second, his voice softened. "You should go to bed."
I nodded once. But how do I fall asleep knowing this person was about to become my stepbrother?