Wolf Song (Wolf Singer Prophecies Book 1)

the church, there were some secrets that remained hidden within my dad.
I uncrumpled that paper, comparing it to his notebook. It had been such a tiny ball in my dad's hand, but it turned into most of the page. I could match up the torn edges really well, so I knew that this was where it came from. But.
It was nothing like the rest of the page.
The pages before and after were just sketches of various plants and other types of herbology. I assumed Ma had something to do with that. She was an herb witch, after all.
But this page. It was scratched. Like it wasn't that there was writing or whatever. It was like pen scratches.
I held it up to the light to see if there was any rhyme or reason to the pen marks. There were no watermarks or hidden glyphs or sigils. It was just a series of dashes and dots.
Maybe that was a new language.
I sat down hard. I was at my wit's end.
Dad was lying on the church altar, and there was this piece of paper that he took the time to tear out of his notebook before leaving me with the book, leaving me with the house, leaving me with the scriptures.
Leaving me with everything.
He had never intended on coming back. He had fully expected it to be a one-way trip. He knew or thought he knew that he was going to die. He was going to leave me alone.
I didn't realize I was crying until my vision blurred.
What the hell was so important that he thought it would be better for him to run away in the middle of the night? Not only that, but he also ran at night when he swore, swore, that we would never open the door at night.
And why did he risk himself by dropping off his notebook? Nothing added up.
How could he think that it would be better for me to be alone?
He broke so many promises and left me with nothing but secrets and questions and tears and monsters.
Night fell and my brain couldn’t stop wondering if I’d have any visitors this time. ‘Course the more I told myself to stop thinking about it, the more the idea consumed me.
It was stupid to be carried away. After all, I knew the lengths the Reapers would go to capture their prey. They would use the likenesses of children in peril; they would use a pretty male to lower my guard.
It was the second night of the full moon and the light streamed in again. I hadn't bothered to try to sleep. I just sat at my window, blankets wrapped around me to serve as both a cushion and comfort as I stared off into the forest.
There it was again. A shadow. Was this a trick of the light under the moon?
But no, there it was. The same lope and build as the people from the night before. The same as Perfect Cheekbones. And maybe, just maybe, he was the one whose presence startled me enough that I didn't leave the safety of the gated sanctuary when I saw that boy.
He didn't leave the edge of the tree line. But I could see the press of shadows behind him. He was there.
A flutter escaped the trees and I startled back from my window seat. What I thought could have been a weapon or bomb or some other projectile hurled at my window was actually a bird. A raven. It was huge and could barely fit on the sill. It kept hopping about until it got a footing.
It peered inside with its glassy eyes. They didn't look quite normal and I couldn't figure out why.
Its eyes swiveled and locked onto me. How was it able to see me through the blessed glass? I snuggled down deeper in my blanket.
It opened its mouth and when I thought it would lose its charm, a bit of mist flowed out of its beak.
That was different.
An eerie voice, like a rasping from the beyond. "Greetings, ramina. I hope you are well. You seemed upset earlier."
Upset? How in the hell could he have known that? And what’s up with that name? Did I look like this person?
"We weren't spying, if you wondered. You were…talking to yourself.”
Oh. The raven wasn’t talking about the crying jag I had right before I got ready for bed. At least that was a relief.
Now I just needed to figure out how a raven was talking to me. And why it wanted to reassure me that it hadn't been spying. And who exactly belonged to this we he kept talking about?
"We will protect your borders, ramina. You need not worry that the Reapers will return. They know better than to come here now." And with that the raven hopped again and flew away.
I knelt at the window and slowly pulled myself up so that I would be able to look down to the tree line below.
The figure was as clear as day to me standing in the shadows. He raised an arm at me. I waved back.
This was odd.
And I should be nervous that there was a stranger in the woods, but somehow it made me feel relieved. Like I wasn’t alone.
This interchange was the most conversation I’d had with anyone in a long time that personally involved me. Like he was talking to me and not just coming at me because I was a preacher's daughter. Like that was all I was and all I would ever be.
I wanted to take those shackles off, just a little. I was always the preacher's daughter, or Dr. Lena Bishop’s daughter. I was never truly myself.
Yet, come to think of it, it wasn’t like I knew who I was in the grand scheme of things, either. Maybe I needed to change that.
How?
Well, I could start with what I did know about myself. I was the daughter of a preacher, word mage, and monster hunter. I was also the daughter of