Chapter 5

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"The truth?" I asked. Genevieve shushed me.

"Many years ago Silver Hills was founded by the Mason family. They built a mansion deep in the woodland that surrounded their town. It seemed they wanted to hide away from the townsfolk. Most presumed it was snobbery. A few knew the truth.

"The people of Silver Hills were, for the most part, normal. But if you ventured into the woods you would find something... supernatural in nature."

My heart raced, thinking of the wolves.

"Some would call them werewolves, but that almost sounds too crude a word. These beasts have their own society. Their leader being the alpha. They have lived in the woods surrounding Silver Hills before the foundations were first set down. And this," she said, turning to look at me, "is the part where you laugh in my face."

I shook my head. I didn't want to believe, but too many pieces of the puzzle fit for me to deny it. "At this point I'll believe anything."

She looked mildly impressed. "I suppose I'll carry on with my scary story then. The wolves forged a fragile peace between the Masons, for they knew that the great family also harboured a dark secret. An ancestor of their family was a member of the supernatural himself, and that made them keepers of the secret. Indeed, though Victor no longer lives with his Mason descendants I have no doubt he is still kicking somewhere."

"A vampire!" I burst out. "The Masons are vampires!"

She cast me a scathing look. "The Masons are not vampires. Victor Mason is. He sold his soul to the devil many years before they even came to this continent. I wouldn't worry about him though: last I heard he had been captured under some enchantment."

"Enchantment?" My head was spinning wildly. "So magic..."

"Magic is as real as wolves are," she assented. "Wolves are more primitive though. And more important for you."

"What does that mean."

Genevieve looked me over. "You... you appear to be the alphas mate."

I stared at her blankly. Magic, vampires and werewolves I could accept. However, those words held little meaning to me. I wasn't well versed in wolf lore as she was. She might've as well called me a clown in French.

Her green eyes studied me warily. "Oh dear," she drawled. "Looks like somebody needs a lesson in wolves."

"Do you know much about them?" I asked, hoping the answers was no.

She just grinned, showing off pearly white teeth. "I know more about werewolves than any other imbecile in this town."

"But how?" I shook my head, hardly believing her claim. "You aren't a Mason. And I don't think you're a wolf so..."

Her expression turned deadly. "Don't expect me to give up my secrets so easily, Smith. I'll happily trade away the secrets of others, but you'll have to suffice with the knowledge that Silver Hills High wasn't my only education."

I scoffed. "How shocking! I don't think I saw you even pick up a pen thoroughly the whole of high school."

"You just didn't watch closely enough." She frowned at me before frowning at the clock. "I can't stay long: do you want my incredible knowledge of werewolves or not?"

I just nodded, afraid to speak lest my voice lose its conviction.

"The first thing you need to know about this certain pack of wolves is that they live a very long time. Maybe not vampire long, but ling enough that the current alpha came into power during the time of Richards great great grandfather."

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