Chapter 195
Evelyn’s POV
After visiting my parents’ graves, I went back to the pack house.
“I should have done this years ago,” I murmured to myself, standing outside my parents’ bedroom door.
When they died, grief had overwhelmed me. I’d barely managed to arrange their funeral before Calvin’s father Jeffrey arrived with marriage contracts in hand. The Norse Pack needed protection. A perfect business arrangement.
In the chaos, I’d never properly sorted through their belongings.
I pushed open the door. The room smelled faintly of jasmine and vanilla. Time seemed frozen here, as if they might walk in any moment. My throat tightened.
I spent hours sorting through clothes, jewelry, and mementos. Each item carried memories. I carefully placed keepsakes in box.
Under the bed, I found several storage containers filled with photo albums and documents.
As I pulled them out, a leather-bound book slipped from between two albums.
“What’s this?” I picked it up, running my fingers over the worn cover.
My mother’s name was embossed on the front: Katherine. A diary.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the book heavy in my hands. Should I read it? These were her private thoughts…but she was gone.
With trembling fingers, I opened the cover and began to read.
September 15, 1988
Today marks my sixteenth birthday. Father gave me this journal to record my thoughts as I prepare to take on more responsibilities within the Blues Pack. Our territory along Duskwatch Bay is thriving. Father says we’re second only to the Eros Pack in influence and wealth in this region.
I paused, surprised. Mother had never spoken much about her original pack. I knew she’d come from somewhere near Duskwatch Bay, but little more.
The early entries painted a picture of a happy, confident young woman. She wrote about pack meetings, training sessions, and social gatherings. Her words were filled with excitement about the future.
Several pages later, the tone changed.
December 3, 1988
He visited again today. Father doesn’t approve of him spending so much time in our territory, but as the son of a neighboring Alpha, there’s little he can do to prevent these diplomatic visits. If only Father knew the real reason behind his frequent appearances p>
I frowned. Who was this mysterious visitor? I flipped through the next few pages, finding more cryptic references to secret meetings and stolen glances.
February 14, 1989
He gave me a silver pendant today. A crescent moon with a small sapphire. I can’t wear it openly, of course. Our families would never approve. But when we’re alone, I’ll keep it close to my heart.
I turned to the next page, only to find it had been torn out. In fact, several pages were missing. Ripped cleanly from the binding. The diary resumed abruptly, the handwriting hurried, the ink smudged.
July 30, 1989
I was a fool to trust him. All those promises, those whispered declarations. Lies. Every word was calculated, designed to extract information about our pack’s finances and trading routes. Father was right to be suspicious.
He’s gone now, returned north with everything he came for. And I’m left with nothing but a broken heart and the bitter taste of betrayal.
My heart ached for my mother. Whatever had happened with this mystery man had clearly devastated her.
The next entries chronicled the Blues Pack’s rapid decline. Investments failed. Trading partners withdrew. Territory was challenged.
October 15, 1990
The Eros Pack has delivered their final blow. Father received word today that our last major business partner has terminated all contracts. Carlos Walton didn’t even have the decency to deliver the news personally.
We’re ruined. The pack council meets tomorrow to discuss our options, but I fear they’re limited. Merger or dissolution.
Carlos Walton? Logan’s father?
December 1, 1990
It’s official. The Blues Pack no longer exists. We’ve been absorbed by the Eros Pack, our identities stripped away. Father has been allowed to retain his title, but it’s meaningless now.
I’ve been assigned quarters in the east wing of the Eros pack house. Carlos smiles at me in the hallways, but his eyes are cold.
Another page torn out. My frustration mounted.
April 18, 1991
Another night, another “social gathering” where I’m paraded before visiting Alphas like merchandise. Carlos makes no secret of his desire to forge alliances through my mating.
Victoria was particularly vicious tonight. She “accidentally” spilled wine on my dress. The sister of Carlos’s Beta, she’s never hidden her contempt for those of us from the Blues Pack.
Victoria? Wasn’t she Logan’s mother? When I was in the Eros Pack, both Carlos and Victoria had been kind to me. Why were they portrayed as demons in my mother’s diary?
June 5, 1991
I met someone today. Charles Blackwell, Alpha of the Norse Pack, visited on business. The moment our eyes met, I felt it. That inexplicable pull that can only mean one thing: mate.
He felt it too. For the first time since losing everything, I felt hope.
My father. I smiled through tears, picturing their first meeting.
July 10, 1991
Charles asked me to marry him today. Carlos was furious. He’d been planning to marry me to ensure the Blues Pack members’ loyalty. I know this was his mother Marcia’s idea. That old woman understood pack politics well.
But they couldn’t interfere with a true mate bond. Not without violating sacred laws.
I’m leaving for the Norse Pack territory next week. A new start, away from the painful memories.
But they hadn’t left her in peace. Even after my mother married my father and moved to Norse Pack territory, Carlos Walton and his pack continued to harass her.
March 3, 1992
Another letter arrived today, full of thinly veiled threats. I haven’t shown Charles. But I know who’s behind it. Marcia may sign her name, but these are Carlos’s words.
They fear I’ll seek revenge for what they did to my father’s pack.
October 12, 1995
My beautiful daughter is three months old today. Evelyn is perfect in every way. The Blues Pack is gone, my father passed away last winter, and I have a new life, a new family to protect.
The diary ended there. I closed it slowly, my heart aching for my mother’s lifelong suffering and resilience, while anger burned inside me at the Eros Pack’s despicable actions.
The mystery man from my mother’s youth had seduced her to gain information about her pack’s vulnerabilities, then used that knowledge to orchestrate their downfall.
And Carlos Walton’s Eros Pack had delivered the final blow, absorbing what remained of the Blues Pack.
My mother had escaped when she met my father, but the Eros Pack, particularly Marcia, had continued to torment her, fearing she might someday seek revenge.
Now Marcia’s hatred toward me made perfect sense. She wasn’t just a bully. She was afraid. Afraid I would seek revenge like my mother might have? All their hostility stemmed from guilt and fear.
I wiped away tears I hadn’t realized were falling, anger burning inside me.