Chapter 39

Grace

The days since Charles returned to the Palace were a blur of activity and challenges. The pack was abuzz with preparations for the festivities, but there was an undercurrent of tension and unease that I couldn’t ignore. The news of the break-in, combined with the ongoing financial struggles of the pack, had ignited a storm of resistance and skepticism among some of our members.

The journalist who had interviewed me hadn’t painted me as an idiot, but she didn’t have to. Everyone else did. As I navigated through the city on public transit, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of their doubts pressing down on me. I wished I hadn’t been so dumb to let Devin talk me out of learning how to drive when Cecil was born.

Whispers followed me wherever I went, the hushed conversations leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I missed Charles’s calming presence more than ever. His steadiness and strength would have been a source of comfort amidst the chaos.

The hate mail and negative messages that arrived daily only added to the sense of turmoil. I found myself facing accusations and criticism from those who questioned my ability to lead, to steer the pack through these turbulent times. Each word struck a nerve, gnawing at my resolve and sowing seeds of doubt within me. The words seared my soul, each letter etching itself like a wound.

I sat at my desk at Wolfe Medical to start going through the new batch of mail. I braced myself to get through it all, hoping that something in the stack was useful. Some of it was, updates from other companies who worked with us, correspondence about bills due that needed to be sent to accounting, but those made up the minority.

Is this what your father would’ve wanted? Selling out to those Lycans? You’re nothing but a disgrace to his memory.

Didn’t I know that already?

Mooncrest’s downfall rests on your shoulders, just like your father’s death. You’ll never be a worthy leader. Lycans won’t save you.

I didn’t want them to save me, but Charles, the lycan of all lycans, was literally keeping my pack from collapse. My eyes burned as I tossed another letter to be shredded.

You’ve turned your back on your own kind. You and those Lycans deserve each other. The pack deserves better than a traitor.

I tossed it.

You couldn’t even protect your own family, and now you’re playing nice with Lycans? Your father would be rolling in his grave.

I tossed it.

Selling our pride to those bloodsuckers won’t make up for your inadequacies. You’re a weak leader, and the pack will pay the price. You should step down while there’s still something left to save.

I crumpled it and threw it.

The pack trusted you, and you’ve let us all down. I’m moving my family before the end of the year.

I shrieked, pushing the mail off my desk as my chest grew tight and my head started to pound. I knew all of that already, but couldn’t someone just see that I was trying?

Didn’t they see that I wasn’t perfect? That I was doing everything I could to make it right?

Maybe reviving the Festival wasn’t a good move after all. I didn’t know.

It felt like no matter what I did, no one would be happy. My jaw trembled as I tried to breathe. I wanted Charles here. Something ached at his absence. I yearned for his unwavering support. I needed someone in my corner. I wanted the calm his presence and confidence gave me though I felt like I was falling apart.

I sniffled, grabbing the phone. I felt stupid and weak, and hopeless, but I couldn’t stop myself. It rang once before I jerked back and hung up. Wasn’t I just proving them all right? Tears welled up. I pushed my hands through my hair.

A few moments later, the phone rang, and with each passing second, my heart seemed to beat a little faster.

I answered before I could even think about it.

“Grace,” he said warmly, and I could almost feel his steady presence through the phone. His voice was a balm to my frayed nerves. “Sorry, I suppose my reception is a little iffy.”

“Hey, Charles,” I replied, trying to infuse my voice with a semblance of normalcy.

A beat passed. Then, his tone shifted, becoming more attentive as if he could sense that something was amiss. “Is everything okay?”

I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. How could I convey the turmoil that churned within me?

“I just... I needed to hear your voice,” I admitted, my voice catching slightly.

Silence hung between us for a moment before Charles spoke again, his concern evident. “Grace, what’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”

I took a deep breath, my resolve crumbling as the weight of my emotions threatened to overwhelm me. “I can’t… I don’t know what—They hate me, and it’s all my fault. I feel like I’m drowning in it all.”

A low rumbling sound came through the phone. It turned my whole body to jelly. I slumped over the table. My mind felt so clear, and all I could hear was his voice.

“You are not alone in this. You’re so strong, Grace, and you’ve already proven your resilience. Don’t let the doubts of others define your worth.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, his words a lifeline in the storm that raged within me. “It’s just... so much. And I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve let my father down, that I’ve betrayed his legacy.”

Charles’s voice softened, carrying a warmth that reached across the distance between us. “Grace, your father would be proud of what you’re doing. He would understand why you’ve done what you’ve done and respect your will to make it right. You’re taking steps to rebuild and strengthen the pack. You’re facing challenges head-on, and that’s something to be admired. Don’t beat yourself up for trusting someone you loved. You’ll end up resenting your own heart.”

His words struck a chord deep within me, and I felt a knot in my chest begin to loosen. Did he resent his own heart? Had he come close to it?

“Thank you, Charles. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” he replied gently. “Remember, you have allies who believe in you, including me.”

As I hung up the phone, a sense of determination surged within me. Charles’s unwavering support gave me the strength to face the challenges ahead. I wiped away my tears, squared my shoulders, and stood to collect all the mail I had thrown to the ground. With each piece, I felt a little more in control. I separated all the mail by addresses. If they came from within the pack, I gave them to my assistant.

“If it’s hate mail, shred it. If it’s not, give it back.”

Her eye widened, and she nodded. “I will. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were receiving hate mail. I’ll screen all of your mail from now on.”

My lips twitched, and I nodded. “Thank you.”

“For what it’s worth,” she cleared her throat. “I… haven’t found a new job, and… I renewed my lease.”

My heart clenched. I wrapped my arms around her, sniffling, unable to help it.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She nodded, seemingly stunned, before heading back to her desk. I went back into my office to sort through the rest of the mail, make notes and send what needed to be sent to the right departments. The doubts and fears still lingered, but they no longer held me captive.

My phone chimed with a message from Charles.

I will call you in a bit, but you should think about how anyone knows a lycan is involved with anything.

I blinked at the message and frowned. There were only a few people who knew about Charles’ involvement.

You think it could be Devin?

I think it’s a question worth asking: who else wants your downfall.

His words resonated with me, and I sent a message to Eason.

How good are you at finding information leaks? Someone told someone that there are lycans involved with the pack now.

A few moments later, his reply came. I’ll have something for you by the end of the day.

I sat back, taking another deep breath to steady my racing thoughts. Then, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and felt a mix of surprise and anticipation. It was a call I had been waiting for, a connection to my past that could be the key to getting Wolfe Medical back on track.

My old mentor had called me back.

I answered on the second ring.

“You know, I was more irritated than surprised to hear your voice on my voicemail,” she said. “So tell me in a way I’ll care about why I should be bothered this time around.”