"You're Nikolai, right? Asra's father?"

Dark blue eyes narrowed, but the man didn't scare me. Perhaps it was because he shared the same eyes as the man I adored, but Nikolai was nothing but grumpy personified.

"Yes." He huffed.

"Don't talk much, do you?"

"No, but you can talk a lot." He glared.

I frowned. "I have been quiet whilst here. Thank you very much."

"And the walk here?"

I cocked my head, confused. Walk here?

He grumbled again, shifting his weight awkwardly. "You talk a lot, for such a small human."

"I am not small." I narrowed my eyes. "Why were you listening to me?"

"You were talking to me!" He snapped.

I was?

When did I...

"You're the sandy wolf?" I gasped. "You led me toward the stream so I would have to meet you here!"

His lips twitched, the faintest of a chuckle leaving his throat. "I made you dinner."

"That is why you left? To entice me with food?"

"It worked, did it not?" He wondered. "Easy way to make a woman comfortable is through food."

"You are lucky I got no bad vibes." I tutted.

"Bad vibes? What are those?"

"Bad feelings." I shrugged, scooping some mash. "The lake..."

I drifted off, unsure if I could continue. I didn't want to sound crazier than I already did. I had spent at least half an hour rambling to his wolf about things, even down to the itchiness of my armpit when I shaved.

Perhaps I should tone down my pleasantries when talking to strange wolves.

"You can communicate with the lake?"

His voice sounded surprised, and looking back up at him, I found him leaning forward. I narrowed my eyes at his curiosity, placing food in my mouth and chewing softly. His jaw hardened as I prolonged my answer, and my lips quirked at the similarity to his son.

Do I mention I have his journal?

"Lakes don't have voices." I shook my head.

"You know what I mean, Ailia Thorne."

My nose crinkled. "Just Ailia is fine. Besides, how do you know my name?"

"I listen." He shrugged. "How do you communicate with the lake?"

"I listen." I grinned, repeating his words back to him.

Two can play this game.

He growled lowly. "I have just made you food. The least you can do is answer my questions."

"I believe I asked you one first." I pointed my fork at him. "But dinner was splendid, thanks. Saves me having to find something in the fridges."

"I am surprised a female would eat rabbit." He admitted.

I ignored his sexism, wiping my mouth with my hand. "I used to catch rabbits all the time for dinner back home."

His head cocked with curiosity, calculating something as he gazed at me. His eyes stared into mine before moving to my hair.

"Do you still have your birthmark?"

I felt my heart leap into my throat, and a strange splutter escaped me as I nervously laughed.

"I'm sorry, what? Birthmark?"

"Yes."

I blinked, waiting for further information.

"I don't have a birthmark." I shook my head.

His eyes narrowed, losing the curious gaze. "Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"You do. It is on your back."

"I think I would know if I had a birthmark."

"It does not look like a birthmark. It is not brown." He rolled his eyes. "Turn around and lift your shirt."

I reared away from him when he stood, scowling at him. "Excuse me?"

"I apologise. That came out wrong." He scratched his beard. "I have been alone for quite some time."

"I am aware of that." I mumbled. "I was told you were feral."

"Not feral, just comfier in my fur." He shrugged. "Now, your birthmark-

"I am not stripping my shirt for some perverted old man!" I snapped.

He growled. "It is not like that!"

"I do not have a birthmark! I am not removing my shirt!"

"No! Listen to me!" He roared back, and I quietened with shock. "You just have to move it a little. The mark sits along the top of your spine. It is silver."

The top of my spine? Was this man on crack?

"Just peel down your collar and lift your hair."

"How do I know you will not snap my neck when I'm not looking?"

A look that was the picture-perfect replica of Asra passed over his face, and I couldn't help but grin. His head had cocked the same was as my mate, eyes narrowing as a sarcastic sparkle lit them up. He was giving me Asra's as if look.

"Okay, fine." I huffed. "But I know karate."

"I'm sure you do, Spitfire." He mused.

Spitfire. Where had I heard that before?

Turning around, I curled my hair into my fist and raised it to the top of my hair. Messy tendrils fluttered around my face, but Nikolai bypassed them, his rough fingers latching onto the collar of my t-shirt. I felt him pull it down softly, exposing some of my shoulder too, but not tight enough that it choked me.

I flinched slightly when his thumbs ran across some of my scars, knowing he could feel the indents of my marred skin. He grumbled slightly, the dryness of his skin scraping across my own. Despite not seeing what he was doing, I know he found the one from when Darius took a glass bottle to my neck. He had only just missed my artery, and instead took a sizeable chunk of skin from my shoulder instead.

Nikolai's thumb moved from that scar before settling on something directly over my spine. I felt him press into it, and instantly my body erupted in goosebumps.

"There," he stated. "That is it."

"How do you know it is a birthmark?" I mumbled.

"I have seen it before, Ailia." He grunted. "This is not the first time we have met. You were not a decorous child."

An eeriness settled in my stomach as he let go of my shirt. I readjusted the material, stepping away so I could study him.

Frowning, my fingers hovered over where he just touched me. I could still feel the ghost of his thumb pressing into my spine, and I didn't like it.

"I think living alone has made you delusional." I stated.

His lips quirked, but his eyes followed my hands as I pressed my fingers into Asra's mark.

"You have questions."

Statement. Not a question.

"I do." I breathed.

Eyes snapping away from my throat, he smiled softly at me. "Then we will start with the first one."

Nikolai had me sit back at the only seat at the dining table, a glass of water in hand. He stood against the opposing wall, watching, waiting for me to speak.

Where do I begin?

I wish I had a pen and paper to make notes. This was like a seminar.

As always, I should start at the beginning, right? But what was the beginning?

I grunted softly, scratching at my throat with agitation.

"Are you going to ask or keep being unusual?"

The journal?

No. Too soon. I need to know if he put it there.

The birthmark?

Maybe.

How does he know me?

Why is he not feral?

"Why did you want to speak to me?" I asked.

Not the best, but it will do.

His eyebrows quirked. "What makes you think that?"

"I followed you through the woods. You led me here. Then you ran off to catch dinner, which would entice me to stay because you heard how hungry I was." I explained. "That seems like you wanted to speak to me, not the other way around."

He smiled. "You are smart, aren't you?"

I laughed softly. "I am just observant."

"Most humans are fearful of beasts like mine. Admittedly, I was hoping for a chance to see my son's mate in person. You coming near my home worked to my advantage." He explained. "I led you this way, and the food is a courtesy for my daughter-in-mating."

That is the most I have heard this man speak in one go.

"No one has belittled my cooking skills in a few decades." He admitted, scratching his beard. "My mate would always shout at me about chopping boards."

"You would think you would've learnt by now, then." I pointed out.

"Yes, you would think so," He mused, softly.

"So, you just wanted to meet me?" I wondered, redirecting the subject.

He couldn't. There was more to this.

He must've noticed the look in my eye, because his lips curled upward.

"My, Asra really has his hands full."

"I have said nothing." I shook my head, annoyed.

"It is in your eyes, Spitfire." He chuckled. "You already know I am bluffing."

There it was again; Spitfire. It made my skin crawl, a strange feeling passing over me I couldn't quite grasp.

"So can we just get down to it, then?" I rolled my eyes.

"How much do you know?"

Know? Know.

General knowledge?

Secrets?

This old man was frustrating.

"Enough." I stated, holding his gaze.

He observed me, still scratching his beard. I scowled at his habit, finding it slightly gross and awfully distracting.

"So, you got my book."

Despite the shock that coated my insides, I remained passive. "So, you know my name."

"I do."

"How?" I probed. "And don't say you listened. You admitted to knowing me before. I don't remember it."

"I assume you don't remember most of your past." He cocked his head, leaning on the wooden wall. "I assume it is all empty or confused."

"Me and my sister remember different things."

"She is not your sister, Ailia."

My jaw tightened, and I had a hard time looking away. "She may not be my blood, but she is my sister and I will protect her with my dying breath."

His eyes brightened, and he leaned away from the wall to pace. "And your mate?"

"What of Asra?" I frowned.

"You feel the same way toward him?"

"Of course I do."

"You have no mate bond." He stated.

Trick question.

"I do. I feel the bond." Shaking my head, I scoffed. "I hear him in my mind and I talk back to him."

"Like you talk to the lake?" He mused.

I swallowed. "Yes."

He grinned. "So your wolf is dormant."

I blanched at that point.

Completely zoned out.

Completely left the planet.

Frozen in the chair, I didn't even breathe as I stared at the old man in front of me. Even when he laughed, I merely blinked.

He moved closer, gripping my shoulder as he crouched down to my eye level. "Breathe."

Staring into the familiar blue depths, I exhaled heavily. He stayed beside me, grinning.

I preferred the quiet, grumpy old man.

"I heard that." He mused.

"How?"

"You talk out loud sometimes."

I cursed, knowing I did. Asra had told me many times I spoke out loud by accident.

Shaking the fog off my mind, I stared back up at him. "I do not have a wolf. I am human."

"Your father is a wolf, and you assume you do not have a wolf in you? Not even the blood of one?"

"My father?" I shook my head. "He..."

"Do you honestly believe that man is anything but?"

Hesitation was answer enough for him because Nikolai moved away and sat in his armchair.

"Your father is a wolf, Ailia Thorne. Your mother is not your mother, and your sister is not your sister."

"I know." I mumbled.

"You do? Good. Then stop doubting it and tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me."

My eyebrows furrowed. "What am I telling you?"

"Who you are."

"Ailia."

"Who you are."

I gritted my teeth, agitated. "Ailia Thorne."

"Who's that?" He wondered.

"Me!"

"You? Who are you?"

I spluttered an obscenity, fists clenched on the dining table. "Ailia Thorne! I am Ailia Thorne!"

He grinned, snickering. "And that is?"

Seething, I rose from my chair and stepped aside. This man was giving me a headache.

I rubbed my temple to combat the sudden dizzy tension. "Maybe it was a bad idea coming here after all."

He was beside me in an instant, mellowing out his attitude. "I am simply asking you a question."

"Annoying me." I crossed my arms.

"You are strong, Ailia Thorne. You must present yourself as so." He shook his head. "Me agitating you is nothing. I see the scars on your skin."

"They are from a past I'd like to forget."

"But why should you?" He breathed, leaning away from me. "Why forget a past that moulded you to who you are?"

"Because it nearly killed me." I quirked an eyebrow. "Pretty good reason there."

"Yet you say it so lightly." He quipped. "A past cannot define a present, but it can mould a future."

"You say you know me, then you should know that the man I was with would torture to me to where I would beg for death."

"Do you not think you would then be dead? If it was so bad, how are you still alive?" He wondered. "With nothing but scars on your skin, and a wolf's bite that shines silver, how are you still going? How trust a man after what others did to you?"

He had a point.

"Asra is not like Darius."

"Asra is a beast, as much as the ones that tore you down from that tree." He pointed out. "Asra is an alpha. A strong one. Yet one who needs protection."

His journal. It mentioned Asra's bloodline.

I relaxed my tense posture, choosing to perch on the table's edge instead of the chair. Noticing I would not run, he cleared his throat.

"Unfortunately for me, our time is running out."

"Why, you going to go wolf on me?" I mused.

"Not me." He shook his head, scratching his beard.

Then who?

***********

and so the past grows