Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack #7)(72)

Lydia sighed. “They’d hoped she’d one day leave Christopher.”

Confused, Frankie said, “But my parents were mated.”

“Yes, but I don’t think the Newmans quite understand the concept of true mates.” Cesar paused, stroking his mustache. “In fact, I don’t think they want to understand.”

Clara nodded, but she didn’t speak until she’d swallowed the food she was chewing. “Iris once told me that she overheard Caroline telling her mother how amazing it was to find and bond with the other half of your soul—that she felt complete. Her mother told her not to be so adolescent and foolish, said there was no such thing as soul mates and that Caroline needed to wake up and see that she didn’t belong here.”

Sounds like something Marcia would say, Frankie thought as she forked up some pie.

“I don’t believe that your grandmother is a bad person,” Clara went on. “Not at all. But I think she felt like she was losing Caroline. Her daughter used to live quite close to her. Suddenly she was living on pack territory, surrounded by other people and madly in love with a male who had a bond with her that no other connection could ever surpass.”

Trick draped his arm over the back of Frankie’s chair and drew circles on her shoulder. “Marcia felt threatened by the mating bond.”

“Brad seemed to feel the same way,” said Cesar. “Christopher was an interloper in their eyes. I’m not sure how much Brad understood about true mates, but I know his parents didn’t believe in any kind of metaphysical bond. They thought Caroline could walk away from Christopher if she ever chose to do so. They thought he’d brainwashed her into believing that she was stuck with him. Nothing Caroline said seemed to make any difference.”

Clara caught Frankie’s gaze as she said, “Although your grandparents weren’t pleased about the pregnancy, they doted on you. Didn’t they, Cesar?”

“Oh yes,” he agreed. “They were so proud, especially as you looked the image of Caroline when she was a child. They even softened toward Christopher, after a while. Unfortunately, Brad didn’t. He remained very hostile toward your father, but he loved you. ‘My Frankie,’ Brad called you.”

Finished with her pie, Clara dabbed her mouth with a soft napkin. “The point I’m trying to make is that there were always sides, even before your parents left this world. Caroline often felt torn and sad that she’d disappointed her family. But she made her decision to be with Christopher; she stuck to it. Eventually they softened. Not completely, but enough that they didn’t leave her life. Maybe they’ll soften for you, in time. It may seem highly unlikely now, but it is possible.”

Frankie wasn’t all that convinced of that, but she gave a short nod. “Wendel said that Caroline took to pack life like she was a shifter.”

Clara’s smile turned nostalgic. “Oh, she did. The day Christopher brought her here, he was the envy of the pack. All the males were sweet on her. She was just so bright and hopeful and fresh, like an ethereal fairy. None of them ever poached, of course, but they did envy your father. She only had eyes for him, and vice versa.”

Tilting her head slightly, Frankie asked, “Did anyone ever give him trouble over it?”

“Oh no. If your parents hadn’t been true mates, it’s possible that someone would have challenged him for her. But nothing could be gained from challenging a male for his true mate—to break the bond would be to kill her, so there would be no prize.” Exhaling heavily, Clara shook her head sadly. “Everyone was devastated by her death. They were even devastated by Christopher’s, despite what he’d done. He was one of us. We all loved him.”

Frankie poked her tongue into the inside of her cheek. “Is it usual for pack members to own a gun?”

Cesar blinked. “No. We were surprised to find out that he possessed one. Josh has a rifle, but it’s a keepsake of some kind; he doesn’t use it. Doesn’t need it. Shifters fight with tooth and claw, so there was no need for Christopher to own a gun. I think that was why some believed he was suicidal. But I don’t believe he bought a firearm contemplating ending his own life. He had no reason to want to die. It didn’t make sense.”

Many things made no sense, in Frankie’s opinion. “Do you have any of his things?”

“No, why?” asked Clara.

“I have some of my mom’s things. Marcia gave them to me. I have Caroline’s scent. But I don’t have his.”

Her face softened with understanding. “I’m pretty sure Iris boxed up his belongings and put them in her attic.” Clara got up, disappeared into the den, and then quickly returned. “Here. This is the key to her cabin. You’re welcome to take anything of his as a keepsake. Iris would want that, and so would he.”

Taking the key, Frankie nodded. “Thank you.”

“Me and Cam will wait here,” Lydia told her. “You should have privacy for something like that. Well, obviously, you won’t have total privacy—Trick will be with you. But I think you’d rather have him there anyway.”

Frankie smiled. “Well, how else am I going to reach the high shelves, chase off spiders, or pick up heavy boxes?”

Snorting, Trick threaded his fingers with hers and then tugged her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get it done.”