Filed to story: In the Shadow of the Past Luna (Lily & James)
I checked Lily’s birthdate again, and this time I focused on the birth year. I did some quick math to make sure I was right, and I was. I saw Lily at the waterfall on the morning of her 20th birthday.
Oh, my Goddess. The fireworks are now blazing high in the sky.
Why had I not thought about this before? Given the timing, I was almost certainly Lily’s first mate. Which meant that Lily was my first mate. Which also meant that Stephanie was never my destined mate, and that she was never destined to be my Luna.
How could that be? Was my whole life a lie?
Long-buried questions and memories suddenly flew through my head.
Everyone was so sure that Stephanie and I were mates, including Stephanie and I. But… why were we so sure? One thing I knew for certain was it was not something that originated with Stephanie, me, or either
I our wolves.
No, the idea that Stephanie and I were mates originated with my mother and Margie. The two of them. told us from an early age that it was “clear”
that Stephanie and I were in love. They did not say that once, or twice, but probably 1000 times.
When you are young and impressionable and hear something like that often enough, you begin to believe it. Is that what happened to us?
I
Memories continued to hit me as though I was standing in front of a freight train. I now remembered that every time that I did or said anything that was inconsistent with being in love with Stephanie, my mother
For example, in 8th grade, I wanted to take Lexi Laughlin to the winter dance. After Lexi agreed to go with me, my parents forced me to un-invite her. I had been angry and upset, but I was obedient back then and I agreed. My mother explained that she had “just been talking to Margie”
and “they”
thought it was better that I go with Stephanie to the dance. My mother said that they had seen how Stephanie and I looked at each other and it was “clear”
that we were mates, and it would be unfair to other she-wolves to get their hopes up.
There were lots of examples of interventions like that. Another example was that my mother and Margie often told us that we had “so much in common,”
but did we really?
Now that I think about it, Stephanie and I actually had very little in common. The things that we thought we had in common were actually things that had been suggested or encouraged by our mothers. For example, I have always hated watching movies; I would much rather be outside doing something.
Yet, somehow my mother convinced me that I loved watching movies with Stephanie. We would do that together all the time. And yet, I have not watched a movie since the night that Stephanie died.
Back in the present, I heard knocking on my bedroom door. It is my mother and Nick. My mother seems worried. But it is too late. The fireworks are in full bloom right now.
Memories of that last night with Stephanie come flooding back to me. This time, in slow motion.
I flip back to the medical record that had vaguely stood out to me at the beginning. It was dated the night before Stephanie died. Lily had been hospitalized with severe injuries. She was released just after midnight.
I now felt like I could not breathe. I was suffocating.
Lily had been in the hospital with serious injuries the night before Stephanie died. She was released from the hospital shortly after midnight. But Stephanie received a text message from Lily shortly BEFORE midnight asking for help because she had gotten lost after meeting up with a boy in the woods.
We have now reached the grand finale of the fireworks show,
Stephanie did not let me see the text message from Lily that night, and she did not let me come with her.
Lily was at the hospital; she was not lost in the woods needing rescue.
Stephanie lied to me. And Lily… Lily most likely had nothing to do with Stephanie’s death.
(Lily POV)
I am currently in the pack kitchen making cookies. Or, rather, trying to make cookies. It seems that I have run into a bit of a problem thanks to my “helper.”
I should have known that accepting his help was going to be a bad idea.
“Seriously, Brady?”
I say, with my jaw practically on the floor.
he to ever
“Come on, Lily. That has to be a pretty common mistake. There is no way that I am the first one mix those two things up.”
“Brady, you confused tabasco sauce and vanilla extract. Those are VERY different things.”
“You said the tall skinny bottle on the second shelf. They are both tall skinny bottles, and they were both on the second shelf.”
“Yes, but they both have labels on them. One says ‘vanilla extract’ and the other says ‘tabasco sauce.”
That is a pretty big clue.”
1
“I could not remember what you said we needed. I just remembered tall, skinny bottle on the second shelf.”
Wow. I am completely floored.
“Ok, fine. But did it not occur to you that tabasco sauce is a little too sp icy for chocolate chip cookies?”
thing as sweet –
He smiled coyly. “Perhaps if it was someone else making the cookies it might have. But you, dear Lily, are the definition of sp icy and sweet.”
I blushed. Ever since I got here, Brady has developed an amazing ability to make me blush almost at the snap of his fingers.
“Ok, well, hand me your phone,”
Ldemand.
“Sp icy, sweet, and bossy. Why do you want my phone?”
“Research.”
“You know murdering an alpha is a crime, even if you are able to g&&gle a way to do it creatively.”
I laughed. “What if I let you choose the creative way that I kill you?”
“Oh, well then in that case, I accept. And I choose death by sex. But I warn you, it will take a LOT of sex to kill me, so I hope you are prepared.”
Oh, my Goddess. I walked directly into that one. “Why does everything have to turn into a sexual innuendo with you?”
“Practice.”
“Gross. Whatever. No, Alpha Brady, I do not want to look up ways to murder you. Although maybe now I should. I want to look up ways to fix this little mistake of yours. I am guessing that there must be are ways to incorporate tabasco into cookies, or at least mask its taste. I want to g&&gle a few recipes.”
Brady smiled and handed me his phone, and I immediately start looking on the internet.
“Ah! I was right! I found a couple. Ok, now how much did you put in again? Just a couple of tablespoons, right?”
“Tablespoons?”
“Brady….”
“I thought you said half
“-half a tablespoon per batch times four batches, so two tablespoons total.”
“Oh.”
“How much did you put in?”
“Half a bottle….
Η
“Oh, my Goddess, Brady. Really? There is no way that I can incorporate that much tabasco sauce into cookies and have them be edible. Now what am I going to do with all of this cookie dough? We are going to have to start over!”