Because this old geezer is Elder Floyd.
Hunter’s grandfather.
I should hate the man, yet I don’t. His grandson may infuriate me, but I always respected him. Especially now as I know he let my mate walk free, stopping the alpha from enacting his crazy plans.
Our alpha can’t exactly think straight, even at the best of times. So throw in some anger and petty revenge into the mix too, and you get a crazy concoction of power and insanity.
A toxic combination indeed. He’s way over his head. I bet he will consider himself a god soon.
I was crazy to want to stay behind with him, but my services are needed here. I know Ylfa will be fine out there. She’s smart and has a way with words.
We need the elders. They get the final say in all political matters, and that goes for war too. Alpha Graeme just wants to kill and maim as many humans as he possibly can. I was the same way previously, I suppose, after they attacked our pack, but lately I’ve started to see sense.
It was as if Ylfa lit a spark under me. From the night she started sneaking down to the dungeons at the fortress, I just knew... That girl wants to change the world. And I trust that she can too.
Elder Floyd greets me with a smile, and I wonder if he is missing his grandson. How does he feel about him turning his back on the pack and running away with her? Hunter is his legacy.
When Hunter’s dad kicks the bucket, Hunter will take his place on the council. I just hope that doesn’t mean that Councilman Reginald will take the seat of Elder after Floyd dies. I shiver just thinking about it.
He’s no different to my uncle. They’re both power-hungry bastards.
“Why, hello, Brent. A lovely day...”
It’s not. It’s gray and overcast like my dreary soul. Pack life truly isn’t the same without Ylfa’s sparkling green eyes to light up the place.
I doubt the rest of the pack feels the same way. The moment they found out that she betrayed us, they went back to despising her. Not unlike before.
Back then she was no threat to anybody. But now she has all that power, and I still have no idea why her wolf is like that.
She was a late bloomer, sure, but the way she dazzles and blinds whenever she shifts... It’s almost godlike.
It’s as if her wolf was gifted to her by a heavenly body of some kind.
“Elder Floyd...” I reply, keeping things curt. It’s not as if we’re old friends.
An awkward silence fills the space between us. Meanwhile, people watch us as they pass, and I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to snap at them.
We’re not here for them all to gawk at.
Elder Floyd leans in closer, placing an old, withered hand on my shoulder, and now I look into his ancient eyes.
They pin me in place, and I can’t peer away. They have me spellbound. “Don’t worry, son. You don’t have to worry about her. She will fulfil her end of the prophecy...”
Prophecy? What the hell is he talking about?
He squeezes my shoulder for a bit, then lets go, whistling merrily to himself as he vanishes through the crowd. People greet him as he passes, showing him the respect he’s earned, and all I can do is stare at his back.
Now it all makes sense. Ylfa had been acting on some higher power’s orders. The elder didn’t banish her; he sent her on a mission, and my fangs burst from my gums, puncturing my lower lip.
Why didn’t anyone tell me that Ylfa was a part of some prophecy?
I will get to the bottom of this.