Prey Drive

Chapter 12: The Letter

I will probably update this with an explanation for my absence, but just imagine everything that could go wrong in your life. Yes. That is what happened. However, I don't feel up to writing that now and you guys have been waiting long enough. FadeWahab2113 made two new covers for this book, huge thank you to her! I will update the cover along with an explanation within a few days. Thank you all for your support, especially anyone voting/commenting! Ps. If you voted/are voting for me in the Passion Awards huge thank you, I have not been the greatest author so that is so undeserved!

Thanks, and Enjoy!

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I stand staring at where Blair was. A stupid smile on my face. Did she mean Clayton actually liked me? Like, liked me liked me? Maybe this meant-

 Whoa, their Quinn, just wait a second.

 I was getting ahead of myself, she couldn't have been any vaguer. Besides we already agreed (kind of) that whatever this was ended at that diner. What's done is done. I look at the metal cylinder in my hand... right?

"Quinn get over here and help me before I murder this dumb pony!"

Myra is at the top of the street, Tansy the old mule next to her, something that looks suspiciously like my aunt's hat clutched in her muzzle. I hastily shove the whistle into my bag not wanting to think about what exactly it means. I toss my bag into a dark corner of the stall and jog up to help her unload. 

Bags of flour, sugar, and spices fill the cart. She only does a big supply trip like this once a year when I'm here to help. I release the cart from Tansy's tired back and trade a sugar cube for Myra's hat. Myra gives the beast one last glare and pulls her slobbery sun hat back on her head.

The rest of the day is spent hauling supplies and taking inventory. The work is repetitive, boring, and gives me plenty of time to think. My thoughts drift, and I don't try to stop them. Blair, the pack, the Alpha, Clayton,  the name only brings butterflies to my stomach and that scares me. No trepidation, no fear,  who knew that my lack of stress would stress me out so much? The only thing occupying space with the butterflies and warm fuzzys is an internal hunger. Its small and insignificant yet I feel it growing.  Feeding on my ribs and trying to let my heart free. The worst part is I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to keep it at bay.

And my heart, my heart wants to throw caution to the wind. My heart wants to follow Clayton wherever he goes. Throw away seven years of good decision making, thinking every move through and dive in head first.

I never thought prestige and power would appeal to me. Yet, the temptation in there. The desire to become more do more than I thought I ever could. Throw away the obscurity of being just Quinn Harper Fellson, daughter of Peter and Angela, destined to be nothing.

However, I would be throwing away everything associated with that simple life. As much as I love my mom she is a proud woman. Her fear and distaste for wolves runs deep, and I know she would never forgive me if I went along with this foolhardy plan. Leaving the prairie for the pack would be the same things as leaving my family. My mother.

There was no best of both worlds here. It wouldn't be going home for the weekend and family game nights. My mother would make me choose.  An ultimatum.

Him or her.

My heart twinges and I drop the open bag of flour I'm holding.

"You alright, dear?" My aunt shoots me a concerned look.