12. Chapter Eleven

I groan, holding my stomach with one hand while splashing water on my face with another. I’ve been throwing up all morning and I have no idea why. It has to be something I ate. The doorbell chimes, telling me I have a customer, and with sluggish steps, I walk out of the restroom.

“Welcome to Paws and Purrs—” I scream, standing in the middle of the aisle when I see one of my foster brothers holding a gun to Ashley’s head. Morgan is lying on the floor passed out, another damn brother that I had hoped to never see again is kneeling next to her, a knife to her throat. “Dylan. Brett. What are you doing?” I can’t help the tremble in my voice. I step forward to check on Morgan, but Brett presses the knife harder against her throat.

“Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says, just as Dylan cocks the gun.

Ashley squeezes her eyes closed, gripping Dylan’s arm until her knuckles are white. Tears stream down her face and I know that look all too well.

She’s terrified.

I would be too.

I remember all the things they did to me growing up. They turned out just like our foster parents.

Violent and heartless.

“What do you want? It’s been years since I’ve been in your life. What could you possibly want enough to show up out of the blue like this?” I ask them, soulless eyes staring back at me. My stomach turns again, but I hold in the sickness, not wanting them to see how weak I am.

Or they will take advantage.

“Let my friends go. They have nothing to do with your issues with me.”

“Nothing to do with you?” Dylan scoffs and Brett laughs, showing his yellow rotting teeth. “They have everything to do with you coming home. And that fucking vampire you’ve been hanging around? He’ll come too.”

“We can keep him chained up and sell his tears. He’ll make us so much money.”

“What are you talking about?” How do they know about vampires?

“You are insane. There’s no such thing as vampires,” Ashley argues, trying to fight her way out of my brother’s grasp.

“You’re getting… on… my… fucking nerves!” Dylan yells into her ear before slamming the gun onto her head.

Ashley’s eyes roll back, and her body falls limp. I run to catch her, easing her down on the floor. There’s blood weeping from the cut above her ear.

“What the fuck, Dylan? She didn’t do anything to you. She didn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this. You need to go before anyone else gets hurt. I am not going back to that hell hole, so you can forget it.”

He points the gun at me, smirking. “I thought you’d say that. Either you come or you die. Dad’s orders.”

“What could he want with me?”

“Tell him, Dylan. Tell him,” Brett chuckles, lifting Morgan’s hair to smell it. “He won’t believe it.”

“How fucking dumb are you, Oliver? Do you really think Dad and Mom had a bunch of foster kids around? No. We are a pack, and you are the one that can change everything for us.”

“Pack,” I whisper in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Pack,” the doorbell rings again, only it’s Deacon who steps in, his eyes glowing a bright golden hue. A sign that screams he isn’t human. “Meaning wolves. Your brothers here are from a wolf pack, but not just any, right?”

“Don’t take another step or I’ll shoot him,” Dylan warns, and Ambrose appears behind Brett.

“If you don’t put the gun down, I’ll break your brother’s neck,” Ambrose snarls, grabbing the sides of Brett’s head. He is pure animal right now. His claws slice Brett’s face as he begins to twist. Brett can’t get out of the hold and Ambrose flashes his fangs in warning, his eyes a bright red, promising death.

“But they aren’t any pack,” Deacon spits. “They are outcasts. Wolves who have been shunned and banned due to their… traditions. They aren’t full wolves. Their blood is muddled because they feed from other shifters and the curse to that is, they can’t ever shift.”

Ambrose inhales, his eyes landing on me before dropping to my stomach. His chest rises and falls in a rapid rhythm.

“Ambrose,” I whisper his name, watching as an unknown force is trying to consume him. His eyes are redder, talons are longer, and I swear his fangs are sharper. “Don’t. I’m okay.” I put on a brave face, hiding how fucking scared I am.

“What do they have to do with me? I’m not a wolf. I’m just some kid they took in. I left when I had the chance,” I explain to Deacon.

“Because we didn’t know at the time that you were a direct descendant of the Grandie’s. Your blood can cleanse ours.”

“It cannot be.” Ambrose sounds confused yet stunned.

“What?” I ask in frustration.

“They are the pack that first mated with humans,” Deacon explains. “No pack lives like they do. They are exiled and have to live in deserted territory.”

“I wouldn’t say mated. They raped and forced pregnancy on the humans.”

“We don’t do that anymore!” Dylan yells, spit flying from his filthy mouth. “It’s why we need his blood.”

Deacon’s eyes widen. “They were the first family your kind mated but because your blood was already so muddled, they couldn’t give you pups— children,” he corrects for me. “That’s why their blood is different. You need his blood to free you of the filth you’re riddled with.”

“We didn’t know we had the answer right under our nose!”

“How did you find out?” Ambrose asks warily.

“You. Talking to this wolf about your mate, about him being a Grandie. We knew then that we made a mistake.”

“How fucking dumb is all that shifter blood making you? It’s his last name!” Deacon roars and Dylan’s knees buckle.

“We heard they had all died. We didn’t think there was any relation.”

Deacon growls causing Dylan to fall to his knees. “Alpha, please—” my foster brother begs like a coward, something I’ve never seen him do.

Ambrose acts fast. Too fast for any of us to react. A snap of bones sounds. My foster brother Brett crashing lifelessly onto the floor. My mate pushes Deacon out of the way, grabbing Dylan by his throat.

“I can promise you; no amount of begging will save you from me. Your family, your kind, I’m going to kill them one by one, and rid the world of the vile nature. Then, my mate will finally be free.” His talons sink into Dylan’s neck, and he rips out his throat.

Red is a color I’m becoming all too familiar with. It falls down Dylan’s chest, staining his clothes until it hits the floor.

After a few moments of silence, reality sets in. “What the fuck just happened? What happened? Oh my God, I have cannibalistic blood inside me? I want it gone.” I cry, rubbing my arms up and down in fear.

“No. No!” Ambrose takes me into his arms, his scent washing over me, settling the tremors unnerving me. “Listen to me. Listen.” He takes my face in his hands, the danger in his eyes gone and replaced by emerald seas. “You are nothing like them. You hear me?”

“You would have to be born between two of them to have their blood,” Deacon informs, kneeling down to check Brett’s pulse. “None of your family could carry the pups— children— sorry.”

“Don’t be if that’s what you call your babies, Deacon.”

“Anyway, humans couldn’t carry their children. So they started to only mate with family members. What was left behind was that hint of magic that makes us shift. Nothing special. It probably makes your blood taste delicious.”

Ambrose growls in agreement. “Oh, his blood is divine.”

“I’m glad that’s taken care of. You don’t need that kind of trouble when you’re pregnant.”

“Who? Ashley? Or Morgan? Is the baby okay? Are they okay? They are never going to forgive me.”

“They are fine. I’m going to mystify them, so they don’t remember this. It isn’t them that is pregnant,” Ambrose states, placing a hand over my stomach. “It’s you, Kitten.”

A hysterical laugh works its way up my throat before I pass out.

What man wouldn’t with that news?