Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 41

~Aubrey~

A couple of days later.

The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room filled with memories of Granny. I’m on the floor, surrounded by papers and old photographs, each item a reminder of the loss that stings and aches like a fresh wound.

Granny always said she wouldn’t leave me with any burdens, but now I’m left with the burden of figuring out how to pay for her cremation. I had just found out that Granny didn’t have funeral insurance. She never wanted to be a bother, one she could hardly afford, but also always insisting on living simply and said just to toss her to the forest yet I don’t think she realized I can’t just dump her body at random. So in her passing, she left me with a heavy weight on my shoulders.

As I sift through her belongings, I’m desperately trying to find anything of value, anything that might help cover the costs. I come across an old shoebox, worn and yellowed with time. Inside, I find a stack of letters tied together with a faded ribbon. I recognize Granny’s handwriting immediately.

Trembling, I untie the ribbon and my stomach sinks further when I realize they are all letters to my mother that had been returned to sender, unopened my mother just sent them back.

I trace the delicate contours of the crumpled envelopes, their creases marking the passage of time and the pain Granny must have felt. Every one of them unopened…never

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Chapter 41

read…returned like a slap on the face.

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for as long as I can remember, since

words from Granny meant for my mother, filled with hope and heartache in equal

reading these letters…it’s all too real. Each attempted reconciliation, every plea for understanding, it twists at my heartstrings until I can hardly breathe.

suddenly, outrage. It’s like a dormant volcano that had been denied its rightful release. Mother had abandoned

been reaching out to a daughter who didn’t

tears come hard and fast, just like

door for a second wondering who it would be before I stand up hastily, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand as I walk towards the door. My heart jumps into my throat when I see that it’s King Soren at the doorway, his hair

off as he takes in my tear streaked face and my grandmother’s belongings scattered all

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“Bree,” he says again, this time his voice soft yet firm, as he peers

little house in this tiny town… I stare

I come in?” He asks politely, his

squash it down; that’s not love, but more rather a desperation for connection,

induced by losing Granny. “What do you want?” I

are you holding up?” he asks, his voice betraying his kind

smile, “Just trying to sort through

have fled. So I wanted to check on you.” I swallow nervously. Is he going to tell me to leave since I didn’t register with the council?

“What are you looking for?” he inquires, noticing