WILLOW
“It’s not a big deal.” Aiden leads us into a room. Down the hallway. Third door on the left.
It’s a library. Tastefully furnished, just like the rest of the house. There are floor to ceiling shelves, stacked full with books. Sofas are organized in the center of the room, facing a fireplace. The windows are floor to ceiling.
As impressive as this house is, it’s nothing compared to the main Thompson residence.
The first time I had visited my father’s home—the ancestral Thompson property— I thought we’d been transported to a Lycan royal palace.
For weeks, I’ve been trying my hardest not to think about it. Trying not to pay attention to how much my life has changed in such the short time I’ve known my father.
“Your father is Cary Thompson.” Aiden takes my champagne glass and he
