When Storm said that, my eyes shot up to his, unsure of what to think. I was somewhat uneasy as well due to Tinley's tense look. Fleur may have accidentally told Storm something. I answered, "Sure," trying not to seem even the slightest bit hesitant. He responded, "Come with me then," and he rose up. Then, too, he got to his feet. Storm turned to face the elderly woman and lowered his head in her direction after straightening out his white shirt. She grinned. He then stroked the young child's cheek who was seated next to me. The mother of the young child grinned up at Storm, and Storm's eyes sparkled with what appeared to be love. Storm then turned to face me, his dark eyes still gentle. I approached him and gave Tinley one last look before we both entered the hallway. I looked around as I made my way through the house and out of the hallway because I was at a loss for what to do. I wasn't sure whether or not I ought to talk to Storm. He wants to talk to me, so I believe he should start the conversation rather than me. Any female would never want to come across as overly eager. But I sincerely hope he isn't spying on me. He simply could not be, right? I saw that this mansion was unquestionably large as I looked at the hallways we passed through. With antique vases, lofty windows, golden chandeliers in practically every nook, and golden and blue tapestries, it was opulent. The lamps and candlesticks appeared to be made entirely of pure gold, and as I looked down at my ring, I realized that it was also made of gold. The majority of the pack members who passed us were female, and they all dipped their heads to Storm, who nodded in return. To me, they all appeared extremely excited. Then we arrived at a location with a massive hanging portrait. It was a sizable Storm portrait painting. But in this one, Storm sported a thick mustache. With hair that was longer than it is now, he posed for the painting. I just stood there and stared at it because it was so long that the loose ringlets stopped at his wrist and extended over his white shirt. Storm's appearance in this picture is slightly different. His shirt was still too big, but now it was bigger. It seemed larger, and his pants appeared to be a little looser as well. I admired the painter's accuracy as I looked at the magnificent sunset in the background. I have always adored art. Although delicate, the strokes were beautiful. I, however, was unable to get past Storm's long hair and mustache. I wanted to ask him why he let his hair grow so long. "This painting appeals to you?" Storm questioned me from next to me, and I turned my head just a little to look at him before returning my gaze to the picture. I briefly forgot that he was standing right next to me since I was so engrossed in the picture. "Yes," I said, still carefully collecting each detail of the painting with my eyes. "I like your long hair, too. It appears to be a pattern around here," Storm said, her lips curving upward in a wink. He pulled aside a tiny ringlet from his forehead as I watched. It obstinately popped back into position. The moment he said, "Thank you for the compliment, but that's not me," my neck snapped in his direction. I blinked at him, then turned to face the artwork before returning to him. If so, who? I inquired. Possibly his father? Or don't say he has a twin brother too. Oh my goodness, enough with the twins. "Alpha Zyan is my ancestor. The first Alpha," He said, and my eyes once more lingered on the image. "Woah," I said. "The similarity is startling." "So I've been told." The picture's subject, Zyan, resembles Storm perfectly. Exactly! It's like looking at a mirror image of Storm, with the exception of the long hair and mustache. At least now I'm aware that Nessa wasn't lying when she claimed Zyan was the first Alpha. But even so, it's not impossible that she could be lying about everything else. I don't really believe in her. Storm said, "Come to my office then," and I looked away from the picture. He unlocked the wide wooden door that was adjacent to the artwork and moved aside to let me through. Once I walked inside, I could see the office, which featured a grand piano at one end and two enormous bookshelves on the left that reached the ceiling. A lounge chair and an oval-shaped table were in the center of the office, and once more, the office desk with one chair in the back and two on the opposite side was on the left end. The entire workplace was decorated in black, white, and wood, much like the rest of this uninteresting group. I actively planned how I would be able to leave this office if necessary while I stood in the middle of the room near the lounge chair. Assassins are taught to immediately begin planning an escape from any situation. Eventually, it develops into a kind of reflex. "Does it bother you if I shut the door?" Storm questioned me while clinging to the door handle, and I shrugged. His door was closed. Why should I care, really? The question, "Do you play?" Storm stepped into the room as I asked quaintly while pointing at the piano. His head's curls caught my attention because they looked like they were reaching out to touch something and jumping for glory. Storm responded, "Yes, I do," and I joined him in looking at the piano. "Do you?" "I...." I paused for a brief moment of reflection before theatrically raising my hand to my head and delicately rubbing my scalp. The truth is that, sure, I do play. "I don't know." My parents enrolled me in music studies as soon as I turned five, and as a result, I play the piano, violin, and harp. They wanted me to acquire skills and become a more rounded individual. I remained enrolled in those courses for eight years. I really like playing the instruments. The only thing I did that came naturally to me was that. I cherished playing the harp most of all. I even performed in recitals, and every year I would receive some sort of honor or commendation. I found playing musical instruments to be far more engaging than working out difficult differential equations. Storm slid his hands into his pocket and said, "You know." Even though you've lost your memories, your body just never forgets how to play the piano. Not your intellect, but your body has those memories. So you wouldn't have forgotten if you did play. Your hands will begin to move more quickly than your mind as soon as you sit down at that piano. I'll give it to you." He makes it sound like they're having a kiss. No matter how long it has passed, you never forget how to accomplish that; therefore, yes, he is correct. With instruments, you could get rusty, but what about forgetting how to play them? That would be really challenging. "Maybe," I said. Storm motioned for me to sit down and extended his hand to the couch. Going to his desk, he My gaze was fixed on him. "I spoke with Alpha Maddox, and he said that according to his records, no girl matching your description has left his pack in the last two weeks." The phrase "My description?" I said it again, not knowing what he meant. He remarked, "Tall, blonde with a short bobbed haircut, pale skin, dark eyes, early twenties, slim, unmarked, etc." before turning to look at me. I wanted to correct him by saying, "Curvy, Storm," as opposed to "slim." I am really sexy and curvy, but that is a completely different topic. Wow, I had no idea he paid that much attention to the area that wasn't marked. I resisted the urge to go for my exposed neck. Maddox's official records show that the last blonde to leave his group was a middle-aged woman with long hair who went around two weeks ago. Sadly, that eliminates Maddox's pack.Yes, Storm, how sad that must be for you, but you won't be able to get rid of me so quickly. not just now, anyway. Baby, I'm Ava, and I'm here to stay. I took care to maintain exactly the right amount of tension in my face to convey concern and confusion without coming across as overly dramatic or frantic. The storm reappeared in front of me. He appeared to be holding documents in his hands, which he then placed on the oval table in front of me. On the couch across from me, he took a seat. I bent down to look at the papers, which were really just a collection of pictures. The initial one was empty. You're kind of a mystery, regrettably. I have no idea how you may be from one of the outside packs, but you can't possibly be from any pack that borders mine. I keep wondering, "Perhaps you took a bus from a different pack?" The outline of a golden watch could be seen as he raised his fingers to his chin; it was just barely visible through the cuffs of his shirt. Most likely, when trying to visit another pack, you got lost and were robbed. Really, I have no idea. I can only assume at this point because, when it comes to you, none of my true thoughts make any sense. Perhaps you are thinking too much. a lot too much. Please stop the moon from allowing Storm to call Alpha Max. If he did, I'm in big trouble since Max would probably realize that I had modified my appearance. Do you still have no recollection of anything? He inquires as he sits more upright, and I can only shake my head. He nods and approaches the table, pointing to the pile. There are packs. I know you can't be from there unless, of course, you are fleeing, which you might be, but I don't want to assume you are because there isn't really any evidence of anything. His eyes are fixed on mine, and I too look into them while only lightly blinking. "Check out those images; they show the names of the packs and their matching Alphas, as well as pictures of significant landmarks in each pack. Perhaps anything will bring up a memory for you." In an effort to complete this tiny work as slowly as I can, I reach forward for the pile. He should believe that I'm making an effort to learn everything I can, locate my family, and go home. The first pack is obviously Maddox's once I move the blank picture to the back. Alpha Maddox, from "The Goldstone Pack" Over the university monument, the Alpha name and pack heading are engraved in large letters. Goldstone University is the biggest university in the werewolf community. My parents wanted me to enroll in this program. They wanted me to enroll in their engineering college. I've been there once, and the building is just stunning. Even now, when I look at the enormous white skyscraper in the picture, unpleasant thoughts come to me. 'Large-Sized Pack' and 'caste system' were highlighted at the bottom of the image. Storm adds, "I also wrote out keywords for each pack," and I nod in agreement. I feign ignorance and ask, "Caste system?" Each pack leads a unique lifestyle. I don't particularly like the division in Maddox's pack, but I have to admit that it's really none of my business. I chuckled a little at his jest and nodded my head as he grinned back, "If I had to explain his caste system to you, then two full moons would pass us by, definitely." I shook my head and looked at the subsequent image. 'The Shadow Night Pack: Alpha Max' was, of course, the next image. I took care to maintain a neutral expression for this one. The phrases "night is day" and "large-sized pack" were the keywords below. The image was of a casino that I was well familiar with. In that casino, I had already killed two opponents. Since it was so well-known, visitors from all other packs came to gamble there and had to pay the casino's own admission price or be a VIP member. Unquestionably, it was a national treasure. Additionally, it was a haven for assassins. Maybe Max would have finally caught an assassin or two in there if he weren't so fixated on the money the casino handed him, but instead, he always turns a blind eye for that establishment. "I'm aware that there are some packs that you just cannot be a member of, or else, as I previously stated, you would not have fled. Packs like mine, without a doubt, as well as those of Maddox, Damien, Arian, Brian, and Kane Nevertheless, I still provided pictures of their pack in case I'm mistaken because we can never be too sure." "Why do you think that I can't be from any of those packs?" I asked Storm as I peered at her through my hooded eyelashes. Storm sat more upright. "I don't mind linking you; therefore, you are absolutely out of my pack. You were either already eliminated by Maddox or you had moved on to another pack from his, which, well, hardly ever occurs. The girls in Damien and Brian's group never dress as you did when you were discovered. Even if you are wearing a ring, and Damien's pack members wear rings to prevent mate bonds, the construction of their rings differs from yours, and I highly doubt that you are wearing one of those foolish bands. Sorry to break your bubble, mate, but you're mistaken there. My ring is one of those supposedly stupid rings, in fact. In regards to Arian's, he chuckled bitterly. "You might be from there, but having a witch in my pack would be ironic. Witches are not even allowed to set foot on this pack, and if they did, I would be aware of it. I'm not sure if Tinley informed you of this or not. I am aware of the fact that you are not a witch. Why do you think you know? Leaning somewhat forward, I ask. Well, this is starting to become intriguing. The moon's gift, Storm said after taking a breath of air. You could call it that, I suppose. And what exactly is this moon's gift'? I kept going. He gives me a brief look. My gaze wouldn't budge from his. "I have a witch's sense. I can feel when a witch enters any area of my pack's territory. You are not a witch because I didn't sense you when you came upon my pack. Right now-" "Sense?" As I look at him, I squint. "How?" "Okay," he groans, cocking his head forward and placing his elbows on his knees. It operates in this way. This pack and the witches have a very bloody history together. This terrible past would require at least five full moons to explain, if Maddox's caste system required two. The Alpha line of this pack has been given the capacity to detect witches and witchcraft if the scent is potent enough, thanks to the moon. Sadly, I am unable to detect minor and rather common forms of witchcraft, but I can." I have to restrain myself from opening my mouth. I won't take my eyes off Storm. Then I remembered my newly enchanted ring. So you actually have a witchy odor? I inquired to be sure. "Yes," he nods without hesitation, his assurance enhancing the ambiance. "And what if you discovered a witch?" I continue because I want to learn more about this. "I would kill them without a doubt," you said.