Chapter 132

Fiona

Ethan settles against the kitchen counter and looks through the mail. The activity is so mundane, something I didn’t picture him doing, but watching him standing there, I can’t help but move closer and stand beside him.

“Anything interesting?” I ask, trying to peek over his arm when he sets all but one envelope aside on the counter.

“Actually, yes,” he says softly, ripping the envelope open. “One of the children who I helped get medical treatment, he wrote this.”

Ethan’s eyes scan over the paper, and I lean in, letting my eyes fall on the words.

Dear Mr. Ethan,

Thank you so much for helping me get to the hospital. I feel a lot better, now and I don’t hurt anymore. Sometimes I still feel sick, but the doctor lady said it will get better. They said the medicine is working.

Thank you for helping me.

I love you.

Merric

A hand drawn picture of a smiling little boy decorates the bottom of the paper.

“That’s so sweet. Who is Merric?”

“Merric is a ten-year-old orphan that has a new type of blood disease,” Ethan answers. “Lately, there have been groups of Lycans contracting blood diseases, which is why I began opening hospitals around the West, one of which is close to my pack lands. After I opened one of the hospital closest to my pack lands, the orphanage contacted me with Merric’s case.”

A blood disease. Kind of like my mother.

“I have entire funds set up for children like Merric who are underprivileged and don’t have anyone to take care of them,” he says, setting the letter aside. “They don’t have to be heavily sick, though. The orphanages can get any of the children the care they need. Adults can go as well because there’s also an adult’s fund. It’s set up for those who can’t afford to help themselves.”

“That’s amazing,” I whisper, turning to stand in front of him. This man is amazing. The more I learn about Ethan, the more I find buried beneath his hard exterior.

“Do you get a lot of letters from the people who go to these hospitals?” I ask, looking up at him.

“I’ve gotten several, yes,” he answers, taking my hand. I watch as he brushes a thumb over my knuckles again. The soft touch makes me smile along with his words.

“Do you keep them?”

Ethan stands straight and tugs me into his side. “I do. Do you want to see?” I nod. Any chance to learn more about Ethan is one I will gladly accept. I think I could ask him a million questions, and I’d probably still be able to learn more. There are so many interesting and different aspects to his life that I still probably don’t know about, and even the things I do know, I’m sure we’ve only touched the surface.

In Ethan’s room, beside his bed, is a little table. He reaches into the bottom drawer of the table and pulls out a brown box.

There has to be at least twenty letters in the box, some on white paper, some on construction paper, and some on actual cards. The writing on each letter is different, but the one thing they have in common is that the writing is overly large, wobbly, and unsteady. Each is clearly written by a child.

“Can I read them?”

The confused yet interested expression on Ethan’s face makes me smile again.

“If you want to,” he mutters, setting the box in my hands. I grin gratefully and begin shuffling through papers. I would love to read all of them, but I also don’t want Ethan to feel like I’m trying to invade his privacy, so I pick out three and set the others aside.

The entire time, I can feel the heat of Ethan’s gaze on me as I carefully unfold the first letter. It’s pink with big black writing in it and stickers along the sides. Written at the top in neat, familiar handwriting, is the name Isabelle Worth and the number seven.

Dear Mr. Ethan,

I love you. You gave my mommy money to feel better when she was sick. Now she can play and have fun with me. She helps me with my homework and takes me to get ice cream. She doesn’t have to stay in bed all day.

Thank you for helping my mommy. Oh, and wait for me to get older cause I’m going to marry you.

I love you!

Isabelle Worth

The big, clumsy words and the little heart drawings are so cute that I can’t stop smiling. It’s even cuter that she wants to marry Ethan. When I glance a the man beside me, he just shakes his head and covers his eyes.

“She was a sweet little girl, and you’ll find that there’s at least two more letters declaring her love for me in that box,” he says with a chuckle.

I flip to the next letter and unfold it, finding much neater writing this time. Like with the last letter, Ethan’s handwriting sits in the top right corner. Alex Redding. Age thirteen.

Dear Mr. Montgomery,

Mrs. Marie said that I could write to you, and it wouldn’t disturb you.

I’m the boy you placed in the Denton home after the split in the Red Moon Pack was disbanded. I couldn’t find my parents, and you didn’t hesitate to take me in and give me somewhere to stay until my parents could find me.

Thank you for being a good Alpha. I didn’t know any Alphas were as nice as you since mine was always awful to everyone.

One day, I want to follow in your footsteps and help people.

Thank you for everything you did for my family.

Alex Redding

“The Alpha of the Red Moon Pack was evil,” Ethan says, making me look up at him. “He hurt his pack members, enslaved them, and forced them to serve him if they didn’t want punishment. When the King and Council ordered it to be disbanded, my pack and the Midnight Pack went to oversee the task. I made sure Alex’s Alpha couldn’t hurt anyone again.”

“Does that happen often?”

Ethan shakes his head, the hand on my leg rubbing gently like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Most packs follow the law set forth by the King, but there are times when they rebel. In those times, the King will send out his enforcers and an Alpha of his choice to make sure the Pack Alpha either steps back into line or to have them delt with,” Ethan explains.

“That sounds dangerous,” I mutter, looking down at the letter.

“It can be. Sometimes they give in easily, and others, like with the Red Moon Pack, there is a fight. Alex’s parents got hurt and taken off to a hospital, but he couldn’t find them, so I had him stay with friends of mine- the human-Lycan couple I told you about,” Ethan replies. His fingers continue the soft, slow circles on the side of my leg as I nod.

I guess there are more aspects to pack culture than just living together in a group.

“This would’ve been almost four years ago, so Alex would be close to seventeen now. After he sent me the letter, I gave him my contact information and told him to come see me when he turns eighteen.”

My heart squeezes at the sentiment, and I lay my free hand on top of his, linking our fingers together. There’s so much more to this man than I ever thought, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Men don’t become leaders for no reason.

Opening the last letter, I focus back on my self-appointed task of learning more about Ethan and pause. This letter has much neater handwriting than the last two, the letters swirling in nearly perfect cursive.

August Min. Age nine.

The age makes my heart ache. Knowing so many children have needed help, and probably still need help, hurts my heart. If there was only a way to get rid of all the sickness and pain in the world, everything would be so much better.

Dear Mr. Ethan,

They told me I wouldn’t get to be a teenager. There’s something wrong with my blood and no one knows how to fix it, but they said you’re working on a way to fix what’s wrong.

Thank you for being the only person who cares about everyone and is trying to help. I hope you can find the cure soon.

August Min

My eyes blur from fresh tears, and although the letter was short, it holds a world of hope and pain.

“Did…”

“I got this letter two weeks ago,” Ethan says, tilting my chin up. Soft thumbs brush underneath my eyes, and I sniffle.

“Is this the blood disease you mentioned before?”

“It is. I’ve been working for years to find a cure for it.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, leaning into his arm. The tightening of his jaw and the darkened look in his eyes tells me just how angry he is. I don’t blame him, though.

If I couldn’t find something after searching for years, I’d be upset too, especially if people- kids- were counting on me.

“Do you like kids?”

Ethan’s brows knit together because of my random question, but he still answers, “I do.”

“What are you going to do if you become the King? Will you still have time to run the companies and look for the cure?” I ask, concerned.

“I won’t stop until I’ve found the cure, so I will do what I must in order to be King and help the people.”