Listen to me 88

In Chapter 88 of “Listen to Me 88,” Sloane reflects on her exhausting day at school and the impending freedom of graduation, mixed with anxiety over her brother Slade’s future. As she rides home with Uncle Roman and Slade, Sloane feels the weight of responsibility for Slade, who will be left to face high school alone. She is determined to keep her struggles with bullying a secret, especially the incident where she retaliated against a bully named Beta Louis, leaving him injured. Despite Uncle Roman’s concern and love, Sloane feels the need to maintain a tough exterior, pushing back against any attempts to discuss her feelings.

As the conversation shifts to Benedict Winslow, a classmate who has shown unexpected interest in her, Sloane grapples with confusion and irritation. Uncle Roman shares insights about the Winslow family’s status in the werewolf community, highlighting their power and respect. Sloane’s thoughts drift to her family’s legacy, particularly the burden of her mother’s past and the loss of their noble lineage. She is reminded of her sister Aria’s innocence regarding their family’s history, feeling a sense of loss for what could have been.

Upon arriving home, Sloane experiences a brief moment of warmth and belonging as she watches Uncle Roman interact with his children, Aria and Theo. Aunt Samara greets them with genuine care, and Sloane feels the comfort of family despite her internal struggles. However, the mention of her grandfather Waylon’s upcoming visit brings a wave of dread, as she is not ready to confront the complexities of her biological family’s history. The chapter ends on a note of tension, as Sloane’s emotions and familial obligations continue to weigh heavily on her.

**TITLE: Listen to me 88**

**CONTENT: Chapter 88**

**Sloane**

Somehow, I managed to survive yet another exhausting day at school. The thought of graduation fills me with a sense of exhilaration. Just one more month, and then I’ll finally be free, liberated from the suffocating halls of academia.

But that freedom comes with a heavy price. Slade will be navigating high school all by himself. I can only hope that Uncle Roman dedicates enough time to help him over the summer so that he can stand up for himself once I’m no longer there to shield him.

As I slide into the backseat of the car, the moment I catch Uncle Roman’s stern gaze reflected in the rearview mirror, I know without a doubt that Principal Rollins has already contacted him.

“Sloane, care to enlighten me about what transpired today?” he asks, his tone a mix of concern and disappointment.

I deliberately avoid looking at Slade, who is seated in the front. I don’t want Uncle Roman to realize that my troubles at school stem from the relentless bullying Slade faces. I can’t control what happens next year, but for now, I’m determined to keep this between Slade and me.

“A Beta got a bit too mouthy with me, and I taught him a lesson,” I reply, feeling no remorse whatsoever that Beta Louis had to have his nose reset before heading home. I can’t help but wonder if he confessed to his father that it was Sloane Hartwell who caused the injury, or if he concocted some pathetic excuse about tripping and falling.

Uncle Roman exhales deeply, the sound heavy with weariness. “Sloane…”

“Relax, Uncle Roman. I didn’t kill anyone, and in a month, you won’t have to fret every time your phone buzzes during school hours,” I retort, not wanting to endure this lecture for what feels like the hundredth time—or perhaps even the millionth.

He shifts in his seat, resting his arm on the back of Slade’s and turning fully to face me.

“You know I love you, right? And Aunt Samara loves you too?” he inquires, his voice softening.

I know this. I’ve always known it. They’ve treated me no differently than their own children, their pups. They even offered to give me their last name, which I accepted, but calling them mom and dad has always felt like a bridge too far.

“I know,” I respond quietly, my gaze drifting out the window.

“If you ever feel the need to talk…” he begins, his concern evident.

“I’m good,” I cut him off, not wanting to delve into the turmoil swirling inside me.

I glance at Slade, and for a fleeting moment, I see a flicker of determination in his eyes, as if he wants to spill the truth. I subtly shake my head, urging him to keep quiet, before turning my attention back to the world outside.

“You’re a strong wolf, Sloane, but you can’t take on the entire world,” he advises, his voice laced with concern.

Well, maybe the world should stop trying to take me on. If it did, perhaps I wouldn’t feel the need to maintain this tough exterior all the time.

As we drive back to the pack, I half-listen to Uncle Roman chatting with Slade, my mind wandering instead to Benedict Winslow. Why on earth is he suddenly interested in me? What could possibly possess him to ask about my weekend plans? This isn’t typical behavior for him; he’s never been one to try and embarrass me. In fact, he almost seemed… hurt when I didn’t jump at the chance to talk.

It’s strange how he always seems to appear whenever Slade is being bullied, and I’m left to deal with the fallout by throwing punches at some jerk. And then there’s the way I catch him watching me—more often than I care to admit.

I snort softly to myself. Maybe I should just spar with him and help him work out whatever it is he’s feeling.

“What’s so funny, Sloane?” Uncle Roman’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He has a knack for picking up on things that slip by others.

“What do you know about the Winslow family?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“The Winslows?” he replies, and I’m grateful he’s focused on driving. If he weren’t, I’m sure his gaze would be locked onto me. “They’re a well-established family in the werewolf community, quite powerful, though not as powerful as we are.”

I can’t help but think about how much of our pack’s strength comes from Aunt Samara. She carries the lineage of the white wolf, just like my mother did—right up until the moment she murdered her mate, my father, because she believed he would never lead a pack. To my mother, being a Luma was everything. She even betrayed her own wolf, losing the Moon Goddess’s blessing and becoming just another regular wolf, like every other she-wolf. Just like me.

Aisling whimpers softly in my mind once more.

“It’s not you, Ais. I’ve told you that. You deserve so much more. You deserve the stature that comes with being a white wolf. I only wish I could have given that to you,” I reassure her.

I don’t hold Aisling responsible for our circumstances. The blame lies squarely with my mother. She destroyed our legacy. My mother and Aunt Samara were the last of the white wolves, she-wolves descended from a noble line of Alphas. White wolves were revered and sought after as mates. Given that my father was an Alpha, albeit born from a mistress rather than a mate, I should have inherited the white wolf gene. But my mother’s betrayal of the mate bond led to her punishment by the Moon Goddess. And apparently, the sins of the mother are passed down to the daughters.

I’m relieved that my sister Aria was too young to grasp the weight of the legacy she should have been born into when our mother passed away. She’s been raised to believe, like me, that she would have a regular wolf. But I was only a year younger than she is now when our mother died. I was acutely aware of my mother’s legacy and had anticipated becoming a white wolf. Yet it seems that lineage will only pass through Aunt Samara’s daughters from now on.

“Is there a reason you’re asking about the Winslows?” Uncle Roman’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“Benedict Winslow is in my class. He asked what I was doing this weekend, and I was trying to gauge whether he was being genuine or if he was just trying to humiliate me,” I explain, feeling a twinge of anxiety.

I notice Uncle Roman’s eyes narrow in the rearview mirror, and I realize I may have overshared. I don’t usually divulge much about my school life to my aunt and uncle; there’s little they can do, and honestly, it would only complicate things further if they intervened.

“Is Benedict harassing you?” Uncle Roman growls, his protective instincts flaring.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I just…”

I just what? Why did I even bring him up?

“He’s never shown an interest in me before, so I’m puzzled as to why he’s suddenly trying to engage in conversation now,” I admit, feeling a mix of confusion and irritation.

“Did you talk to him?” he presses.

“No. I told him to find someone else to swoon over because I’m not interested,” I reply, staring out the window again, my mind drifting to Christa inviting him to her birthday party. As if she would ever be worthy of being mated to Benedict. She’s as fake as they come, spending more time preening in front of a mirror than studying. Her personality is as dull as a rock, and her intelligence barely registers.

“I don’t recall hearing that he’s been on your hit list in the past,” Uncle Roman remarks, and I shoot him a glance, wondering if he’s actually keeping track of all the ranked members I’ve knocked out. Knowing my uncle, he probably is.

“No, that’s why I was surprised when he tried to talk to me today. He usually keeps his distance,” I clarify.

“Well, from what I’ve gathered, Benedict is aware of the legacy he’s about to inherit. He’s started attending pack meetings with his father in preparation for taking over when he turns eighteen. I can’t speak to what he’s like at school or as a person, but in my dealings with him as an Alpha, I’ve been impressed,” Uncle Roman states, his tone carrying a weight of respect. That’s a significant endorsement coming from him.

As we pull up to the packhouse, he turns to face me once more. “So, maybe hold off on breaking his nose until you’re sure he’s being a jerk, alright?”

I can’t help but grin at my uncle. “No promises,” I quip, stepping out of the car.

He shakes his head, but I catch a glimpse of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. My uncle has always supported my desire to be strong, and even after I began getting into trouble at school, he never ceased training me to become a formidable warrior. Now, only he and Aunt Samara possess the strength to take on Aisling and me.

“Dad!” Aria and Theo shout in unison, racing out of the packhouse to greet us. He effortlessly scoops both of them into his arms, their laughter ringing like music.

“How are my pups?” he asks, enveloping them in a warm embrace.

I can’t help but smile. This is what a family ought to look like. This is what MY family should have looked like.

Aunt Samara waits for us on the patio, her presence radiating warmth.

“Welcome home, Slade. How was school?” she inquires, her voice filled with genuine interest.

“Fine,” he replies, his tone dripping with the typical grumpiness of a teenager.

Aunt Samara takes his response in stride and turns to me. “And you, Sloane? How was your day?” she asks, and I can tell she’s aware of my run-in with that Beta jerk. So, I adopt the same surly teenage demeanor.

“Fine.”

Instead of letting me pass like she did with Slade, she pulls me into a hug, her arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace.

“You know I’m here if you ever want to talk,” she whispers, her sincerity evident.

I nod, returning her hug. Her clean, fresh scent always has a way of soothing my frayed nerves.

When I finally pull away, she searches my eyes, ensuring I understand her seriousness before looking past me at Uncle Roman. “Hello, my mate.”

“Hello, gorgeous,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth.

I don’t linger to witness their affectionate exchange; I know what’s coming, so I head inside.

“Oh Sloane? Your grandfather Waylon is coming to visit this weekend.”

Great, just what I didn’t want. The arrival of my biological father’s father is the last thing I need right now.

As Sloane steps into the familiar embrace of her pack, she finds herself caught between the exhilaration of impending freedom and the weight of her responsibilities. Graduation looms on the horizon, promising liberation from the relentless pressures of high school, yet the thought of leaving Slade to navigate that treacherous terrain alone fills her with dread. The bond between them is palpable, forged through shared struggles and unspoken understanding. Sloane’s fierce protectiveness over her brother is a testament to her strength, but it also reveals the emotional scars left by their tumultuous family legacy. In her heart, she knows that her role as a shield will soon fade, and the fear of what lies ahead threatens to engulf her. The tension between her desire for independence and her instinct to guard those she loves creates a poignant conflict that resonates deeply within her.

As the warmth of family envelops her, Sloane begins to realize that the strength she has cultivated is not solely for the purpose of fighting battles; it is also about embracing the love and support that surrounds her. The gentle reminders from Uncle Roman and Aunt Samara serve as anchors, grounding her in the present as she grapples with her identity and the burdens of her lineage. Their unwavering belief in her potential offers a glimmer of hope amid the chaos, suggesting that perhaps she doesn’t have to shoulder the weight of the world alone. With each interaction, Sloane finds herself inching closer to acceptance—not just of her past, but of the possibility of a future where vulnerability and strength coexist. As she prepares for her grandfather’s visit, she steels herself for the challenges ahead, yet for the first time, she feels a flicker of optimism—perhaps, amidst the trials, she can carve out a path that honors both her legacy and her own desires.

In the next chapter, readers can expect the tension to escalate as Sloane grapples with the impending visit from her grandfather, Waylon. With his arrival looming, the weight of her family’s legacy and the fractured history that comes with it will undoubtedly resurface, forcing Sloane to confront the shadows of her past. The dynamics within the pack are about to shift as secrets unravel, and Sloane’s resolve to shield her brother Slade from the harsh realities of their world may be tested in unforeseen ways. Will she be able to maintain her tough exterior, or will the emotional turmoil from her family’s history begin to crack her facade?

Additionally, the mystery surrounding Benedict Winslow deepens. As he continues to show interest in Sloane, the question remains: what are his true intentions? Is he genuinely trying to connect with her, or is there an ulterior motive at play? With Uncle Roman’s warning still ringing in her ears, Sloane must navigate the treacherous waters of high school politics while balancing her own feelings of confusion and irritation. The stage is set for unexpected alliances and potential confrontations, and Sloane’s choices may lead her down a path she never anticipated. As the weekend approaches, the stakes are higher than ever, and readers will be left on the edge of their seats, eager to see how Sloane will confront the challenges ahead.

Sara Lili

Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.