Logan walked out of the strategy room after his meeting with Casper. His heart was alive with happiness and he couldn't wait to see his mate again. He found himself smiling at the memory of her sleeping so carelessly on his bed. He realised that he wanted to always see her on his bed, right by him.

His mind wandered to the killings again and his smile was deflated a little. He realised that whenever he thought of Aella, the killings also came to mind. It was as though they were closely related, and he couldn't help the nagging feeling that his mate and the killings were somehow connected.

His mind suddenly went to his father and he decided to pay the old man a visit. He hadn't seen him since the time he had attempted to get some advice on what to do about the killings. So instead of turning left to his own wing, he went right, pausing at the door that led to his father's room. 

He opened the door and stepped into the gloominess of the room, waving away the dust that fluttered up to his face. He squinted his eyes and looked around, noting that the room was in a much worse state than the last time he came here. Obviously, they hadn't been doing their jobs.

The cans of beer he had met on the floor had been replaced by new ones. His father was no longer on the couch by the window but on the bed, his face to the wall. The old man did not acknowledge his presence or make any move. Logan approached the bed slowly, his feet kicking up debris on the ground.

He got to the bed and saw that his father was snoring slightly, fast asleep. He slowly studied the old man's features. He was once a very attractive man, the pride of the whole pack. Even after he had been mated to Jessica, women had flocked around him, subtly giving him hints. He had stayed fateful to his mate though.

The raven-black hair that Logan had inherited from him had turned grey due to stress. His face had more wrinkles than any man his age should have. Logan noticed that he was tapping his fingers on the pillow incessantly, as though he was having a troubled sleep. He was only fifty but he was already starting to look like a seventy-year-old man.

It had been ten years since Logan's mother had died and Logan had taken over the running of the pack. Ten long, hard years for Logan's father. He hadn't for once stepped out of the room in those years, and it was only a sign of immense strength that the man hadn't died long ago. He had totally given up on ruling his people or finding another mate. Logan knew that only the loss of a dearly loved one could do that to a man.

His mind drifted to Aella again and he scrutinized her in his mind. She was tough as nails, stubborn, and unyielding. He would have seen that even without talking to her anyway. She would make a great Luna for him. With her, by his side, they would be able to rule the pack effectively and hold back any enemies. Her hard eyes and haughty expression showed immense strength and resilience, and the only time he had seen those big eyes soften a little was when he had stared into them yesternight.

He found himself getting a hard-on just thinking about her and he tried valiantly to push her out of his mind. No, he thought. Having thoughts like these was not good for him. Even though the Goddess had willed them to be mates, there was no how he would finally accept her and make her his Luna. He didn't want to lose her and end up broken and defeated like his father.

A loud ring jarred him from his thoughts and he jumped slightly, looking around. He realized the ring was coming from the landline on the other side of the room. It hadn't been used in several years.

The call had also woken his father as the old man stood up from bed with a surprising alacrity and looked around, obviously startled. Not shockingly, the first thing from his mouth was "Jessica. Jessica!"

Logan shushed his father back to sleep, then turned around and walked over to the dusty white telephone. He sighed, looking back at his father to confirm that the man was sleeping again, then picked up the telephone.

Immediately he picked it up, the phone rang again. He picked up the call and raised the phone bell to his ear. "Hello?" He said uncertainly. He wasn't used to receiving calls from unknown people.

"It's been a hot while, Logan." Said a voice on the other end. The voice was strangely familiar and Logan frowned, trying hard to remember where he had heard it before.

"Who's this, please? I cannot really place the voice." 

"Oh, cut that out, Nutcracker. It's me!" The voice said. There was only one person who loved to call him Nutcracker, but she was thousands of miles away on the other side of the world.

"Louve?" He asked with doubt in his voice.

"Correct!" The voice said, "I was seriously thinking you would never place my voice."

Logan chuckled and turned round to check his father again. The man was snoring peacefully now. "Well, you didn't make it hard. I knew it was you the moment you called me Nutcracker."

"Nobody would dare call you that and get away with it. By the way, how's that poor butt faring?" Louve asked teasingly.

"My poor butt is doing very fine, thank you," Logan answered, rolling his eyes. The Nutcracker incident had been a running joke between the both of them since they were younger. When Logan was about twelve, he had sat on a dining chair so hard that he'd cracked a walnut that was on the chair. Ever since then, Louve his cousin had always called him Nutcracker.

"I thought you were touring the world and would not be back till a few months’ time." Logan continued "You haven't called me in almost a year."

Louve scoffed "Yeah, I'm still touring. But would it hurt to say hi to my cousin?"

"I didn't say that, Louve!" Logan said and chuckled "It feels nice to hear your voice again."

"I know." She said "And how's your dad doing? Is he coping well?" She asked after a short pause.

"Well..." Logan looked at his father's sleeping frame "Well is a strong word."

"Oh wow," Louve said. "Is it that bad?"

"He barely recognizes me now. It's sort of scary." He admitted. Louve was the only person he could be this honest with. He truly was scared that his father's end was near.

"Oh, that isn't good. Hey Logan, I was thinking of stopping by the pack to say hi. My next destination is Mexico, so it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with you and the pack."

"Of course, Louve. You know you're always welcome here."

"Great! It was really nice hearing your voice again, Nutcracker. You should see me in a few days' time, I think. So long!"

"So long, cousin. I really did miss you." He said, smiling.

"I did too, Nut. Bye!"

"Bye, Louve." He said and the phone went off. He realised that he was grinning from ear to ear like a happy schoolboy and knew that his cousin's presence around him was truly what he needed to get a lot of things off his mind. She had this light, happy personality that made everyone around her feel at home, and Logan knew that she would make him feel better the moment she arrived. She was also an amazing strategist and he knew that she would come up with a plan on how to deal with the killings the moment she came here.

He took a last look at his father and walked out of the former alpha's room, towards his own wing, his face still animated in a smile. He got to his room and opened the door, his heart still in high spirits.

"Hey, Aella. I'm–" He stopped short at the sight that met his eyes and the smile melted from his face. His eyes caught Aella's own and he could feel the rage that flowered in his chest.

"What the fuck?!" He yelled.