Alpha Trent's Regret

An Invitation To Return Home

Eva's POV

Five Years Later

“There’s something here for you.” The messenger said, fishing in his bags and coming up with an envelope a minute later. He handed the envelope to me, producing another paper for my signature.

“It came in three weeks ago, but you know how things are at the post office. It took some time to be sorted out.”

I collected the envelope from him, peering at it with a mixed feeling of confusion, anxiety and dread. A letter from Moonstone? Was it my father? How long has it been since I last saw him?

Five years, Athena, my wolf whispered.

I forced a smile for the messenger. “Who still does letters these days? We have phones now and the internet.”

He shook his head. “You’d be surprised.”

I glanced again at the envelope in my hand, wondering why my father would bother to reach out to me now, after so many years. A part of me wanted to dig through the earth and bury the letter there, the same way he had buried his love for me.

But another part of me, the soft side, who missed her father and home, who wanted to know if everyone was doing well, wanted to read the letter. I imagined he was writing to tell me how sorry he was for all those years.

Could I forgive him?

“Mama?” a tiny voice rang out from the living room and I turned abruptly, facing my five years old son.

“Yes, Nathan?” I cooed. The smile that came to my face this time was genuine. I walked towards him, pocketing the envelope.

“What’s that? Did we receive a letter?” he asked.

Marge raised a brow, pulling him into an embrace. “Now, let mama be. Did you forget your lessons with Dale? You should be on your way.” He forgot about the letter immediately, bouncing away as fast she his small legs could carry him.

We both watched him go, but once his back disappeared through the door, Marge returned her curious gaze to me, eyeing the pocket which the envelope had disappeared into.

“Now, what was that?” she quizzed. “And don’t tell me nothing. I saw the look on your face like you had seen a ghost.”

Maybe I had.

I sighed in exasperation, plopping down into the couch. Marge was one of the people who had taken me off the streets during my first year after becoming a rogue due to being pack-less and mate-less.

She had fed me, clothed me, became a both a friend and a mother figure to me. But she also had the annoying character of always pushing. When she was curious about something, she would never stop until she found it.

“So?” her brow shot up. “What is it?”

I pulled the envelope from my pocket, handing it to her and watched as her eyes read through the words on it. Her brow creased and her eyes darted to me again.

“Mm-hmm? This is an address. Is it supposed to mean something?”

“Home.” I answered simply. “That is the name of the pack I came from. Moonstone.”

Understanding slowly crept into her eyes which widened. Her mouth formed an ‘o’ and she plopped into the seat beside me.

“I take it this is the first time you are receiving words from them?”

I nodded, unable to form any words.

She glanced at the letter, turning it over in her hands. “It doesn’t say who the sender is. Do you want to read it? And how did they find out where you live? This seems quite recent.”

I hadn’t thought about that. No one from my home pack was supposed to know where I was. After my father rejected and kicked me out of the pack, I had wandered around a lot.

Many times, I was pushed around, moved, cargoed till I had no idea where in the world I was. Thankfully, after a year of wandering aimlessly, Marge and a group led by the lycan king’s son, Dale, found me and brought me to their territory where I had lived ever since.

‘So, how the hell did they find you’ Athena snarled, pacing restlessly beside me.

“Do you think they may have been spying on me?” I asked. When I said the words out loud, it sounded creepier than I had thought in my head. Would my father do that? He hated me. But I was still his daughter, it made sense that he’d want to know my every move.

Still, why did he never try to help all those times that I suffered with my pregnancy and then my new born son? All those times that I starved to the point where I thought I was not going to make it, why did he never help?

My grip on the letter tightened, as I thought of the days when I thought I was going to die a rogue. If Marge and Dale hadn’t saved me.

“It’s possible.” Marge replied. “But why would he wait so long to talk to you?”

Because he was a proud, egotistic, selfish man who loved nothing but honor and power. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“I don’t know.” my voice came out shaky. “My father was always hard to read and… he never liked me.”

“You should read the letter.” Marge said, standing to her feet. “I will give you some space. But don’t forget to come down for dinner, Dale would be there.”

I held her hand, stopping her. “Please, stay.”

Her warm eyes met mine and she nodded, then lowered herself back into her seat. Once she was settled, I tore the envelope open, unfolding the paper inside. My heart leapt when I saw the handwriting.

I gritted my teeth. “It isn’t from my father.”

My wolf stirred as my eyes read through the name at the bottom of the letter. Scrawled in scattered letters was the name Alpha Trent Prescote. I hadn’t expected it to be him but my father’s neat calligraphy could never be mistaken for this immature scrawls.

“Alpha Trent.” I growled.

Marge brows shot to her hairline. “The same Alpha who rejected you? Now, this is getting interesting. What does he want?”

My eyes scanned through the letter, faster at first and then slower as I took my time to dissolve the words and what they meant. My wolf howled when understanding finally dawned on me.

Despair shot through my bones. The paper floated to the ground and marge was immediately beside me. The last time my heart shattered the way it did now, was when my father had rejected me. Now… what happened was much worse.

“What happened?” Marge asked, picking the paper and skinning through it herself. When I heard her gasp, I knew she had found the sentence that shattered me.

“Eva…” her voice broke.

I looked away, not wanting her to see the tears that stained my cheeks. “I have to go home.” more tears rolled down; my bottom lips trembled at the weight of the words that

settled on my tongue. “My father is dead.”