Sequel to Orphan's Cry
More than fifty years before Leah Corbyn became a werewolf, Amélie Orne was cast out of werewolf society, manipulated into taking the blame for crimes she did not commit.
After living for so long on the run as a Feral wolf, she found unexpected comfort and companionship from Leah and her lover Amy Oakley. As they grow closer, can she dare to hope for a real future together with them after a lifetime of betrayal and misery?
Amélie has allies to stand with her now, but it will mean uncovering secrets long buried, and reopening dangerous old wounds ...
"Good afternoon, Amy!"
Amy stood, offering a hand. "Hello, Abigail. How are you?"
Abigail chuckled as she waved Amy to one of the seats next to the exam table, then pulled over her stool. "That's usually my line, but I'm doing very well, thank you."
"Good, good." Amy sat back, but Abigail couldn't help but notice the slightly nervous look in her eyes. "Thank you for squeezing me in today."
"No trouble," she assured her. "So -- you needed a consultation? Is something the matter?"
Amy seemed to be looking for the right way to explain why she had come in, so Abigail sat back and waited for her rather than trying to rush her.
"I came in because I have a situation that I may need your help with."
Abigail's eyebrows rose as she straightened up. "It's not anything with Leah, is it? Her last checkup went quite well."
"No, no," Amy shook her head. "Leah's wonderful. We're doing very well, in fact."
"Oh, good." Abigail leaned forward with a smile. "So -- are you taking in strays again?"
Amy coughed nervously. "Well. Something like that." She reached into her pocketbook, and drew out a paper envelope, handing it over to her. "I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but I would like you to take a look at this before I explain."
Abigail took the letter and turned it over in her hands, running her thumb over where it had been addressed to her. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and she was confused who would ask Amy to hand deliver a letter to her. Everyone they knew in common could have just come themselves if there was an issue that required her attention.
She turned it over in her hands again before she unfolded the letter with a frown, then gasped as she saw the neatly written names that revealed.
Simon Josef ben Eli Feldsher.
Anna Lucie bat Sara Feldsher.
Yonathan Eli ben Simon Feldsher.
22/3/1948 -- A. O.
Abigail's hands shook as she read the names again, but they hadn't changed. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke.
"Who gave you this?"
"A ... friend." Amy coughed nervously, but Abigail barely noticed. "She's been staying at my cabin, and she needs your help."
Abigail looked up from the paper and into Amy's eyes. "Your friend has black hair, fair skin, and hazel eyes. When she shifts, her fur is white, and her eyes are gold."
Amy's eyes widened in shock. "How did you know that?"
Abigail held the letter up instead of giving Amy an answer. "She wrote this?"
Amy nodded. "I watched her do it."
Amy shifted from side to side in the chair. "She's afraid of being recognized if she came to the clinic herself, and I wasn't sure if I could ask for you to come to the cabin with me without an explanation."
Abigail frowned as she considered that, her eyes falling back to the letter again. "She needs my help?"
Amy's voice was as certain as she had ever heard. "Yes."
Abigail smoothed the paper again, folding it into quarters before putting it into her pocket. "Then we need to go."