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Shift (Southern Werewolves Book 1) by Heather MacKinnon (6)

Chapter 6

“Elizabeth!”

I heard my name being called, but couldn’t respond. Body frozen in shock, my world was spinning violently around me.

I’d been bitten by a werewolf.

How could I have not put the pieces together before now? Everyone knew if you’re bitten by a werewolf, you turn into one. Then again, everyone also knew werewolves were make-believe. Boy, were we wrong.

“Why aren’t I a…” I swallowed harshly, and spit out the next word like it tasted bad, “werewolf yet?”

The siblings looked at each other silently until Abraham approached me and took a seat on the bed. I immediately noticed the creases lining his handsome face, and the bags under his eyes.

“It won’t happen until the next full moon,” he explained.

The next full moon.

“And when is that?”

“Not for about another four weeks.”

I nodded as my chest constricted.

I had a month until my life became drastically altered forever.

My impending change threatened to drown me in fear and anger, but I fought to keep my head above water. Besides, I’d never been one to sit and cry about a problem instead of trying to solve it, and I wasn’t about to start now.

“Is there an antidote?” I asked.

This seemed to surprise them.

Another wordless conversation passed between the two before Evey speared me with remorseful blue eyes.

“Not that we’ve ever heard of,” she breathed.

“Has anyone ever looked?” I asked, desperate for a way out of this nightmare.

She nodded her head slowly.

“No one’s ever found anything. I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”

Okay, so that option was a bust. What else? There had to be a solution. I wouldn’t accept this fate without a fight. I wracked my brain in the quiet of the room, the only sound my harsh breathing as I hyperventilated.

“This is not okay,” I whispered.

What an understatement that was.

Abraham reached out tentatively and wrapped his thick arm around my shoulders. I tensed a moment before I gave in to the comfort he was offering.

“It won’t be that bad!” Evey insisted with a hopeful grin. “You’ll like livin’ here, we’re like a big ol’ family–”

“I’m sorry, live here?” I interrupted.

Her eyes flashed to Abraham. The man sighed next to me, and tightened his arm, as if he was worried I’d bolt.

“Yes, you’ll have to live here now.”

I jumped to my feet despite his hold. My leg screamed in protest, but I ignored it.

“The hell I will!”

“Elizabeth, be reasonable,” he pleaded.

I gave him my fiercest glare.

Reasonable? What part of this is reasonable, Abraham? The part where I got attacked by a serial killer in the woods? Or the part where I woke up in a house full of storybook characters? Or maybe, it’s the fact that I’m now apparently a part of this fucked up fairytale too? Which is it?!”

I never cursed. Pretty girls don’t say ugly words. My mother had drilled that into my head from a young age. Well, this pretty girl was pissed. All bets were off.

Abraham remained seated, his face full of remorse. “I’m so sorry.”

“You think sorry makes up for this? Sorry is for when you bump into someone on the sidewalk, or forget a person’s name. This is so far beyond a simple sorry!”

The anger and unfairness of the situation boiled inside of me. I was an active volcano, set to erupt at any moment. My stomach churned like molten lava undulating beneath the earth’s crust.

With a very unladylike growl, I turned on my heel, and paced the length of the room despite my injured leg.

I felt trapped.

Like a caged animal.

“You can’t keep me here,” I told him. “I won’t stay.”

Abraham sighed, but remained silent. Smart man.

“I have a life back in Raleigh. A career.” Another thought popped into my head, and I stopped dead in my tracks to level another glare at him. “I’m supposed to be getting a promotion on Tuesday!”

Abraham’s eyes dimmed, but he stayed quiet.

With a snarl, I started pacing again. If I didn’t get this pent up anger out of my system, it would tear my body at the seams, and burst out of me. It was that intense.

What am I going to do?

I couldn’t live here in this house full of werewolf strangers.

Was it even safe?

I wouldn’t.

They couldn’t make me.

A few more laps around the room, and I had enough control to speak again.

“I’m not staying here,” I informed him.

Abraham took a deep breath and stood. With his hands raised in front of him, he cautiously approached me. “It’s not safe for you to live off pack land.”

“And why is that?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He ran a large hand down his face. “Your body will go through many changes. Things you won’t be able to understand without our help. And when the full moon comes, you’ll need to be somewhere you can safely shift. Away from any humans that might see you. I can’t risk you getting hurt, or worse,” he looked like the thought pained him.

The way he said “humans” was like a shock to my system.

He wasn’t human, and now neither was I.

Oh my god, I’m a werewolf.

I paced again.

Think, Elizabeth!

My brain zipped at top speed searching for a solution. Anything that could make this situation bearable for me.

“What if I came back here on the full moon?” I stopped in front of Abraham.

He shook his head, but Evey piped up from behind me. “That could work.”

He glared at her. “Not a good idea.”

I cocked a hip and placed my hand on it. “Why not?”

He sighed in frustration. “I told you, your body will change in the time leading up to your first full moon. There will be things you won’t know how to deal with. You need to stay here so we can help you through all that. This is what’s best.”

“I don’t accept that,” I informed him.

He let out a frustrated breath, and looked up at the ceiling, like it could give him the answers he sought.

“What if one of us went with her?” Evey suggested.

I spun to face her. That was a better option than staying here, but it still wasn’t what I wanted. “That won’t be necessary.”

Evey shook her head slowly. “Abey’s right. You’ll be goin’ through some changes you’ll need our help with.”

My hackles rose, and I spit out, “I don’t need anyone’s help!”

A heavy sigh from behind had me spinning to Abraham again.

“You seem like an independent woman who’s used to only relying on herself, and I respect that. But, just this once, Elizabeth, you really do need help.”

I shook my head and looked away. “I disagree.”

“Must you argue over everything?”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I get along just fine with most other people. It must be something about you that brings this out of me."

A small chuckle sounded like it escaped him unwillingly. I turned to find his eyes light with humor. For some weird reason, it lessened the weight on my heart, and I sighed in resignation.

Sensing my defenses weakening, he went in for the kill.

“If you agree to take one of us with you, I’ll let you stay at your place until the full moon.”

And my fury was back.

Let me?!” I shrieked.

Evey came rushing over, placing herself between us. She somehow made herself tall enough to interrupt my furious stare-down with her brother.

“He didn’t mean it like that. He’s concerned for you.” She shot an annoyed look at the man in question. “He just needs to work on his delivery.”

My chest heaved, fists clenched as I struggled to calm myself. I hadn’t felt this out of control in a long time. Years and years of rigid self-discipline had flown right out the window. I needed to get myself together. If I wasn’t calm, I couldn’t think rationally, and I needed my brain firing on all cylinders right now.

With a few measured breaths, I brought myself back from the edge.

“Fine, but I’m staying in my cabin the rest of the weekend.”

Abraham was shaking his head before I’d even finished my sentence.

“Why the hell not?!” I exploded, all my calming measures down the drain again.

He shot a disbelieving look at the leg I could barely stand on.

His eyes softened when they reached mine. “You’re hurt. You shouldn’t be alone while you’re still healing. What if something happened to you, and there was no one there to help?”

I wasn’t used to being cared for. Not since Gran. His attention was making my skin itch and my heart flutter.

“Why do you even care? You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything. What’s in it for you?”

Abraham’s cerulean eyes scanned my face like he was searching for something. I kept my chin up, and my face openI had nothing to hide.

His gaze dimmed, but a reassuring grin spread across his face. “You’re pack. And we take care of our own.”

A multitude of emotions clashed inside me.

Fear. Uncertainty. Trepidation.

 

What was I getting into being a part of this pack? What would it entail? How would I be able to keep living the life I’d work so hard to create for myself while also being a werewolf?

But, beyond that, there was also a small glimmer of hope. And maybe a pinch of self-doubt. I hadn’t been a part of something in so long. What if I screwed this up like I’d done before? What if they got to know me and stopped wanting me to be a part of their pack? But, what if this was the family I’d always yearned for?

“Please stay?” Abraham asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I did not like losing arguments. In fact, I’d based my entire career on my ability to reason my way out of or into anything I wanted. The thought of conceding to his demands again had my stomach churning.

However, I prided myself on my logical reasoning above even my ability to win arguments. As much as it pained me, Abraham was right. Just the thought of climbing those stairs to the loft in the cabin made my leg ache. I wasn’t sure how I’d make do on my own.

Would it be such a bad thing to accept help?

The defiant adolescent I never fully outgrew screamed: YES, IT WOULD. I didn’t need help. I couldn’t count on anyone but myself. If I let my guard down, I’d only end up being disappointed, or worse, hurt.

But the adult Elizabeth knew my adolescent self had gotten me into more trouble than I cared to remember. Maybe it was time to accept some assistance. And, what better time than now, when I really needed it?

And besides, he’d said please.

My shoulders sagged in defeat. “I need to get my things at least,” I muttered.

Abraham spoke up immediately. “I can take you there now.”

Evey frowned. “But Abey, don’t you have that thing–”

“This is more important,” he interrupted.

She shook her head with an indulgent smile.

I spun on my heel and stormed toward the hall door. Well, more like limped, but hopefully it looked like an angry limp at least. “Let’s go,” I grouched.

A small chuckle came from behind me, but I ignored it.

I whipped open the door to find another room, and not a hallway at all. The giant space looked like a private sitting room decorated in dark colors like the bedroom. There were overstuffed chairs, and a huge entertainment system alongside a pool table and a wall full of books. I took a quick look around and located a possible exit. By then, Abraham had caught up, and rushed ahead to open the door for me.

A wide hallway stretched out before us, the series of rooms we’d been in were at the far end. I struggled to hide my discomfort as I hobbled along the seemingly endless hallway.

“Can I help?”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Please?”

With an aggravated huff and my leg screaming in pain, I hooked an arm around his waist, and let him support most of my weight. We walked past door after door, but didn’t run into anyone else until we’d made it down the first set of stairs.

A pair of tall, light-haired men were coming up the staircase, so engrossed in their conversation they almost walked right past us. The taller of the two spoke up first.

“Alpha,” he acknowledged with a reverent nod.

“Hey, Wyatt. How’s your mom doing?”

The other man answered. “Better. Thank you for sending the pack doc to her.”

Abraham waved a hand dismissively. “We take care of our own here, Wesley.”

Both men nodded gratefully, their inquisitive eyes bouncing from me to Abraham and back again. It looked like they were waiting for an introduction or explanation, but Abraham offered neither.

“I’m off, men. Bea’s around here somewhere, but if you need me, I have my cell,” he told them, patting the front pocket of his dark jeans.

They nodded again and resumed their ascent. We walked quietly down another flight of stairs before he spoke up.

“Wes and Wyatt are new additions. They’ve only been with us a few months.”

“Where did they come from?”

Abraham’s shoulders tensed. “Another pack,” he replied succinctly.

“How many are there?”

He chuckled. “In North Carolina? Or in the world?”

My brain short-circuited for a minute. I’d been so immersed in this house, and my own pending transformation, that I hadn’t even stopped to consider how many more werewolves there might be. How had they gone undetected for so long?

“Um, both?”

“There’s about ten different packs in the state. Maybe a few hundred in the country? And who knows about the rest of the world? I can tell you, we’re on six out of the seven continents and every country in them.”

I blinked slowly, trying to process what I’d just heard.

He laughed, but said nothing else, and I appreciated that. It was like he knew I needed time to digest that thought before I learned more.

“Where did you all come from?”

I caught his brows furrowing out of the corner of my eye. “All over I guess.” He scratched the back of his head. “My siblings and I were born and raised just a few hours from here.”

I shook my head. “No. Werewolves. Where did they come from? Are you an evolutionary anomaly? An unidentified species? Aliens?”

Abraham’s laugh echoed off the walls and high ceilings.

“Aliens? Really, Elizabeth?”

Indignation heated my blood for a moment, but I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. Okay, maybe that was a silly question.

“Never heard that one before,” he mused.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I get it. But really, what are you?”

“We’re human,” he insisted. I arched a brow. “With a twist,” he added.

“Yeah, some twist,” I mumbled.

He laughed again. “No, really. We are. It’s a long story–one I’ll absolutely tell you sometime. The short answer is: we’re descended from a man who’d been spelled by a witch to turn into a wolf. Over the centuries, the magic mutated and evolved into what we are today.”

My jaw fell open, and a small gasp escaped my lips. When would I stop getting pitched curve balls?

“Witch?” I croaked.

He nodded affirmatively. “Witch.”

“Are they still around too?”

“Oh sure, they’re all over. You’ve heard of psychic hotlines, right? Most of em’ are witches. Not all witches are strong enough to be very accurate though, and that’s why they have a bad reputation. If you want a real divination, you need to find a powerful witch, and they definitely won’t be working for a 1-800 company,” he chortled.

My mind went blank.

What do you say to that?

I finally went with the first thought I could fully form. It was an old saying of my Gran’s that had never seemed more appropriate than right now.

“Well butter my ass and call me a biscuit.”

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