Ashlyn’s POV

Les Hurleurs Noirs

The sign for Les Hurleurs Noirs confirmed my now reality. We were here, and there was no going back now.

I’d done a brief research about this town last night. The town was infamous in its way for its luxury and anatomy.

It was the place where the quiet rich lived. The kind of people who didn’t need to flash their wealth because you could smell it on them and feel it in the air.

But money wasn’t what defined Les Hurleurs Noirs. Not really. What made it remarkable, terrifying even, was the anatomy of its population.

Ninety-nine percent of the people who called this place home were werewolves. The one percent left were tolerated humans and witches with their strange rules and even stranger powers.

But make no mistake: this was wolf territory. The town belonged to them.

My research hadn’t prepared me for what I saw as Mom drove us deeper inside. In person, Les Hurleurs Noirs was breathtaking.

Even as late as it was, I could still see how beautiful the streets were. Still, as pretty as it was, it couldn’t touch Brittlefalls.

My hometown was smaller, simpler and humbler, but it had been mine. And Dad had loved it. Which meant it held my heart forever.

I pressed my head to the glass as I watched the houses blur by. They were beautiful, I couldn’t lie about that.

Shortly, the car slowed to a stop. I lifted my head, blinking at the house that rose before me. My mouth went dry. The word house didn’t do it justice, it was a mansion.

Our modest silver sedan looked ridiculous parked in front of it. I frowned. Surely Mom had taken a wrong turn. But then she sighed and said quietly, “We’re here.”

My head whipped toward her. Here? As in, this was Walter Calloway’s place?

I remembered stumbling upon a forum about Walter Calloway's controversial, experimental research team and a biotech firm he funds. This mansion explained how he was able to afford all that funding.

I wanted to ask Mom, I wanted to demand answers, but the stubborn silence I’d sworn to keep between us kept my mouth sealed. My questions remained trapped inside me.

Mom turned to me, softening her voice. “I know you’re still mad at me, Ash. But please, I’m begging you… be nice.” She didn't wait for a response, she just got out of the car.

I stayed put, resting my head against the window and telling myself not to watch. But the corner of my damn eyes betrayed me. It caught a man confidently walking down the grand stone staircase towards Mom.

When he reached her, he pulled her into a long, lingering and intimate hug. Too intimate. That must be Walter Calloway.

He leaned in and tried to kiss her, but she dodged him at the last second. Was it out of respect for me? I scoffed to myself. My mom’s actions were the opposite of respect.

If she truly respected me, or Dad, she wouldn’t have dragged me here in the first place. No, she wasn’t dodging out of respect. Maybe she just wasn’t ready to shove her tongue down his throat in broad daylight.

If she wanted to complete the betrayal, she might as well have fucked him right there on the front steps. It wouldn’t have surprised me.

I shut my eyes, determined not to look again or care, until a knock on the window made me jump.

It was Walter Calloway. He bent slightly at the waist, bracing one hand on his thigh as he leaned towards my window. His expression was gentle, as though he were approaching a skittish animal.

I felt irritated. But Mom’s words replayed in my ears, “Be nice.” Grinding my teeth, I rolled the window down.

“Hi,” he said, smiling warmly. “Ashlyn, right?”

Up close, I couldn’t deny it, he was handsome for his age. Perfect hair, white teeth, and alluring eyes. Mid-fifties, but he carried himself like a man in his prime.

I could sense paternal care radiating through him, the kind that might have charmed anyone else. But me? It made me sick.

“Your mother’s told me all about you,” he went on. “I’m really excited you’re here.”

I wanted nothing more than for him to leave. To stop trying to fill a role he had no right to claim. He could play husband to my mother if he wanted, but he could never, ever, replace my dad.

But I had to play along. So, I forced a smile and lied. “Likewise.”

"It's really late, don't you think you should get down?" He asked cautiously.

He was right. I sighed and got out of the car, dragging my bags with me. Just then, a small army of butlers swooped in and took my boxes from me before I could say anything.

Walter waved a hand to his butlers. “Take them to her room.” Then he turned towards me. “Please, let me show you to your room Ashlyn."

So, this was my life now. Big house, irrational mother, a delusional man who thought he could fill the void my father left behind, and butlers moving around like I was some kind of spoiled princess.

I sighed and followed him inside. My mom followed behind us.

He led the way, and as we walked, I noticed the portraits lined in the walls of the hallways. They were not of family, not of history, but of him. From the corner of my eye, I caught what the gilded plaque under one portrait read: Beta Walter Calloway of Les Hurleurs Noirs Pack.

Beta, not Alpha.

I would’ve taken him for an alpha with the way he carried himself. But if this was the beta’s mansion… what would the alpha’s home look like?

We reached a room on the second floor and Walter opened the door slowly.

“This will be your room,” he said. The space inside was large, larger than my entire bedroom back home. It was decorated with everything a teenage girl could want. It was so beautiful it felt like he had been preparing for me for weeks.

“Anything you need,” Walter continued, “you can come to me or your mom.” He seemed so desperate not to mess this up, and I almost felt sympathy for him.

"Thanks, Walter," I said quietly.

He smiled with confidence. "You can call me Dad."

My heart stopped. How dare he? In my head, I said everything I wanted to spit at him. ‘You’ll never be my dad. Don’t you dare try to wear his name.’ I swallowed my rage, suffocated on it, out of respect for my mom.

I wanted Mom to say something. She knew Walter had gone too far. Instead, she cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Enjoy your new room, Ashlyn. We’ll be setting up things upstairs.”

"Don't you think you should rest. It was a pretty long drive..." Walter insisted with love.

Mom forced a small chuckle. "I'm not tired, Walter. We should go."

Coward. She wasn’t going to call him out, she wasn’t going to tell him to apologize. She’d rather run. I watched them leave, then I slammed the door shut.

Collapsing onto the bed, I stared up at the chandelier with a heaving chest. The room was beautiful, yes, but beauty couldn’t hide how wrong this was. How could Walter have told me that on the first day?

The room was quiet and I hated it. I needed to do something, anything, to distract myself from my thoughts.

I pushed myself up, deciding to unpack before my thoughts ate me whole. But as I started, I realized one of my bags was missing.

“Shit,” I muttered. I looked out the window. Sure enough, my box was still sitting on the driveway where the butlers had left it. “Some butlers they are…”

I made my way to the door, ready to stomp downstairs and fetch it myself. But when I opened it, I froze with a pounding heart and slightly parted lips.

Across the hall, leaning against the frame of another bedroom door opposite mine, stood a male.

He was majestic, his dark hair was slick with wetness, his damp shirt clung to his perfectly sculpted body, his eyes were downcast, and he didn’t spare me a single glance. He simply walked into his room and closed the door like I didn’t even exist.

I wondered to myself, "Who are you?"