by Elsa Aarden

A Story of Wolves 1
The Start
[Siren Publishing Classic ManLove: Contemporary, Paranormal, Alternative, Shape-shifters, M/M, HEA]
Cecil Hayes has been physically abused by his stepfather for most of his life. He was held captive, out of the system. His mother passed away during childbirth. On his twenty-third birthday, during a one-sided fight with his stepfather, Cecil takes the chance to escape. But the commotion lures in a powerful Alpha, who rescues him and takes him in. Cecil knows nothing about the inner workings of a wolf pack, so they were off to a bad start.
Rowan Sands has no idea how to handle humans. Still, he finds a mate in Cecil and takes things slowly. Regardless of his attraction, Cecil is someone he needs to protect. His mate’s thoughts are haunted by his father and he needs someone by his side. But things aren’t that simple. Two investigators take matters into their own hands when it comes to Cecil. Another Alpha claims to be Cecil’s mate. Can Rowan keep them away from his mate?
Length: 36,000 words
THE START
A Story of Wolves 1
Elsa Aarden

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
The Start
Copyright © 2019 by Elsa Aarden
ISBN: 978-1-64243-984-7
First Publication: October 2019
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elsa was born in Portugal in 1990. As a child, she read books and wrote poems and short stories instead of playing with dolls. Years later, in 2009, she met a wonderful author from a distant country who showed her the path of writing. Her love of writing led her to learn advanced English in order to publish her stories. Her goal was to take the readers away from reality and tour the worlds in her imagination.
Her drive comes from the readers who motivate her to do her best while having fun.
For all titles by Elsa Aarden, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/Elsa-Aarden
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE START
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
THE START
A Story of Wolves 1
ELSA AARDEN
Copyright © 2019
Chapter One
The baseball bat hit the wall, right next to him. “Son, I keep telling you to stop moving!”
“Father, please, stop it,” he shouted as his father came running after him around the living room table. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his father taking one of his shoes off. His father threw it at him, and it hit his lower back with the hard sole. He fell, but quickly got up. “Father, please…” He saw no other option but to go for the front door. It was a risk worth taking.
“Son, I won’t tell you again. Get back here, you little bitch!”
Instead of waiting, he opened the front door to escape his father. As soon as he ran out, he bumped into someone and fell backward, into the house. In front of him stood a tall man. The night was dark, but he could see the man through the dim light in the house.
“There you are,” his father said with a wide smirk.
Before he could react, his father grabbed him by his stretched T-shirt collar and dragged him back into the house. “It’s your birthday, Cecil. It’s time to celebrate.”
Cecil tried to breathe as his father choked him with the collar of his shirt. He glanced to his right when his father showed him his bat. “Help,” he tried to say to the stranger, gripping the calloused fist that was against the back of his neck. His father stood in front of him and pinned him on the floor with his bare foot on Cecil’s chest.
“I heard a lot of noise coming from here,” the stranger said as he walked into the house, ducking his head under the top of the door frame. The man wore all black, and his dark eyes glinted in the dim light.
Cecil watched as his father got off him and gripped his bat. “Father…please.” He rested his hand on his aching throat.
“It’s none of your business. Get out of my house right now,” his father told the stranger, holding his bat up.
The stranger didn’t look afraid. Why?
“Your son is full of bruises and cuts. Are you the one who hits him? From the way he looks, this has been going on for quite a while. He’s not crying or panicking. You broke your son.”
“Shut the fuck up,” his father shouted. He swung his bat at the stranger’s shoulder. It broke in half. The bigger chunk of wood fell and rolled away on the filthy hardwood flooring, earning stares from Cecil and his father. It didn’t affect the man with a strong build.
“Now I have permission to hit a human,” the large man said.
Cecil sat there, watching as the man shoved his father away. His father nearly flew across the room. Cecil turned around and got on his knees to see. The odd man paced toward his father, who stood with the sharp handle of his bat in hand. He stabbed the stranger in the stomach, but his father was punched in the face with such force that he fell limp.
“He’s lifeless,” the man said. “He was too weak, after all, and I’m not surprised he tried to kill me. I smell old blood in his hands. He’s killed before.”
Cecil stood and approached his father’s body step by slow step, gripping his dirty, stretched shirt. What did he mean by that? The stranger made his way to the exit and yanked the bat handle from his abdomen. His shoes thumped on the floor with each step. His black dress shirt and his left leg were almost soaked in blood, but the black clothes barely showed it. It poured past his belt and down his long legs.
Why wasn’t he in pain? Why had he been the only one to help when he had asked? Cecil looked back at his father. He couldn’t recognize his face anymore. Blood slowly pooled around his head.
Why didn’t his father move? Where was his anger for getting hurt?
“Are you going to stay here?” the stranger asked from the front door. “You can come with me.”
Cecil glanced at his father one last time before he followed the stranger outside. The man had answered his call for help and was a human wall of protection, and he didn’t want to lose him out of his sight.
Cecil turned the lights off on his way out. His father had always told him to turn them off when no one was in the room.
“I’m Rowan. Get in,” he said as he got in the car.
“Ah…” Cecil stared when Rowan closed the door of the front pass
enger seat. Was he going to leave? Didn’t he tell him to go with him? He rested his hand on the glass. He’d never been inside a car. To him, cars were only machines that passed by his house.
Rowan opened the door. “Why aren’t you getting in?”
Cecil glanced at the back seat and at Rowan’s lap. He wanted to go with Rowan. “Can I…sit with you?” he asked quietly.
“There’s no space. Why would you do that?” a woman asked.
Cecil tensed and noticed someone in the driver’s seat. He moved his hand as if the glass were on fire. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind.” Rowan stepped out and got in the back seat. “Come on.”
Rowan didn’t mind it? Who was this odd man? Cecil crawled inside and took in his surroundings. The car smelled good, as well as the two people in it. The inside of the car was all black and comfortable. So this was how it felt to be in a car?
“Aren’t you closing the door?” the woman asked. “We have to get out of here before someone sees us.”
“First, take this, Stella. The human stabbed me with a bat, and I can’t leave this behind with my blood,” Rowan said and handed her the bat handle. Only the sharp tip had blood on it.
She was quick to take a small bag from the glove compartment and put it in it. “The bag is too small, but it’ll hold until we get home,” Stella said.
Cecil stopped staring, held the edge of the car door, and tried to close it, but his fingers got caught between the door and the frame. He winced and retracted his hand.
“This is how you close a car door,” Rowan said. He moved over Cecil, grabbed the handle, and shut the door with a loud thud. Fresh cologne mixed with a strong-scented shampoo filled Cecil’s lungs as he gazed at the man taking up all the space.
Rowan was like a protective wall in front of him again. How could someone smell so pleasant? Rowan sat back down. “You have to be careful next time, all right? I won’t have the patience to keep an eye on you if you keep getting hurt. I need to think later of where to leave you,” Rowan added.
“Pain is normal,” Cecil said, looking at his pulsating fingers. “Father always says that.” This person helped him, so he felt that he could speak with him. On the other hand, the woman didn’t seem so kind. He looked outside as the car drove away from the house. It was a matter of time until his father came back for him. He always got angrier whenever he ended up hurt.
Rowan reached over and put the seat belt around Cecil, buckling it in. “You saw it, right? Your father can’t hurt you anymore. I can’t believe he tried to kill me with a bat. His intent was no joke.”
Cecil looked away. “I’m not sure…” he uttered.
The woman glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s gone now, and he’ll never hurt you again because Rowan made sure of that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Cecil said, turning his head down. He didn’t want to speak with her, but since she helped, she didn’t seem so unkind anymore. “Father says it’s a birthday gift from him to me, so that’s his reason to make things worse for me on this day. He’s my stepfather, if you want to…know.”
The woman gasped, drawing Cecil’s attention. She glanced over at Rowan. “Rowan, are you sure you want to take him with us? He needs help.”
Rowan sighed. “Stella, call Mia. Tell her we’re returning with someone she needs to take a look at.”
Cecil tilted his head. “I’m okay.” His heart skipped. Were they worried about him?
“You’re not,” Rowan said. “Your father lied to you. He told you it’s normal so he could hurt you whenever he wanted. Are we hurting you?”
What was Rowan talking about? “No, my father doesn’t lie. He tells me that everyone else lies, so I can’t trust people. Father is always right. I do trust you, Rowan, because you helped me.” He had to feel pain, as his father had taught him, but he couldn’t accept it if it lasted.
“If he kept you in that house, that means he was hiding the truth. He kept you inside for as long as he could,” Rowan said.
Cecil stared at him. Father had been lying to him all along? He looked outside when the car stopped. “Why are we stopping?” He leaned away from the door and shuddered. His father was coming. His father was going to open the door and take him back. He tugged on the seat belt, but it didn’t come off. “He’s coming!”
Rowan pressed on the seat belt button, and it came loose. Cecil fell on his side on Rowan’s lap and crawled onto him, thrashing to untangle himself from the seat belt.
“Your father passed away. We already told you he can’t hurt you anymore.”
Cecil breathed hard while on Rowan’s lap. He looked around as he held on to Rowan’s jacket with both hands. This stranger was the only good one, so he needed to hold on. “No, he can do anything. He’s coming.”
“What’s your name?”
Cecil looked up at Rowan. Why was he asking such a question at a moment like this? “Cecil Hayes. Why?” He noticed how Rowan was so different from his father. Rowan was tall and strong. His expression didn’t show kindness, but it was better than his father’s permanently angry face.
“Cecil, did you see what I did to your father?” Rowan asked, and Cecil nodded. “I stopped him with my own hands, and it was easy. I got rid of him for you, so he’s not coming.”
In a matter of seconds, Cecil relaxed. Stella continued to drive as she talked alone with a gadget on her ear. Was that a tiny cell phone? “You stopped him,” Cecil said faintly. He regarded Rowan. “Does that mean it’s your turn to hit me? Because you’re stronger than my father?” He glanced down at the blood on Rowan’s shirt. No blood poured out anymore. Maybe it had only been a scratch.
“No, I will never hit you,” Rowan said with a raised brow.
Cecil tilted his head. “Why?”
“You don’t deserve pain,” Rowan said. “If you didn’t hurt anyone, you shouldn’t feel pain and be hurt. Do you get it now?”
Cecil tightened his lips. He didn’t know what to think. Why didn’t Rowan want to hit him? He flinched when Rowan held his sides with his big hands. Instead of hitting him, Rowan sat him aside. Cecil had many questions, but he didn’t know where to begin.
Rowan removed his seat belt and got out of the car when it stopped. Cecil jumped out after him before he could close the door. “This is where I live. You can stay until I find someone else to look after you.”
Cecil followed close behind Rowan as they approached a large house. It looked beautiful. Even if it was nighttime, he could see the colorful flowers of the front yard garden. There were small light posts that lit the house and the yard. He could only see something similar whenever he looked out the window of his father’s house. “Is this all yours?”
“I have a few houses that belong to me,” Rowan said. “We have a big family, but this is the main one.”
Cecil followed Rowan inside, Stella coming behind him. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by people. He grabbed Rowan’s jacket and glued himself to him, shaking. He’d never been around this many. Why did they have angry looks? Were all these people going to replace his father? There were too many, and they were larger than him.
“Who is this?” one of them asked.
Cecil flinched and tensed when a young man tried to touch him. He wouldn’t care if it were any other day, but it was his birthday. A bat would come at any moment.
“This is Cecil,” Rowan said. “I rescued him from his father. Stella and I don’t have the full story, but you can see the state he’s in, so don’t scare him. If anyone comes to the door asking questions, come to me first.”
As one of them rested their hand on Cecil’s back, he buried his face against Rowan. Breathing hard, he tried his best not to move. If he moved, it would only bring him pain. He tried to peek over at them.
Stella paced to the front of the small crowd. “Everyone, give him space. Mia has to take a look at him.”
“Hi, Cecil.”
Cecil looked at a woman with long hair tied in
to a neat ponytail. Why did she smile at him? “Hi,” he said under his breath.
“Can you come with me? I need to check if your body is all right.”
“No. Please!” Cecil opened Rowan’s jacket and hid his head. He stopped when he felt the warmth inside. Rowan was so warm. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against Rowan. He felt the mounds of muscle hidden underneath the cloth. It made him feel strange that Rowan didn’t hit him for this. He jumped when someone touched his back again.
Mia continued. “I’m not going to hurt you, Cecil. Now, can you let go of Rowan? He needs to go somewhere.”
Cecil’s legs nearly gave out. “No. Please…Mia.” He gripped Rowan’s jacket until his knuckles turned white. “My father will come if I let go.”
“He won’t,” Rowan said. “Everyone here can fight an army of people who are the same as your father. This is my pack. They can promise not to hurt you. They will protect you if anyone like your father comes here.”
“A promise?” Cecil stared at him, his chin rested on the middle of Rowan’s chest. He glanced at the others. “Do you promise? Please?”
One of them sighed. “Alpha, it’s not as if we’re pleased to see a human clinging to you, but the way he’s asking…”
“Alpha, it’s a first to see you being sweet to someone, let alone a human,” Stella said. “Anyway, Cecil, we promise whatever Rowan just said. Your health is important.”
Cecil tightened his lips. Wasn’t that too easy? “Okay,” he said to Mia. He tensed when Rowan stepped away from him, and he held on to Rowan’s jacket.
“I’ll be in that room while you’re with Mia,” Rowan said, and motioned toward a large door to the left. “If you need anything from me, tell Mia. She will call me immediately.”
Cecil released Rowan’s jacket with hesitation. He watched attentively as Rowan walked into a room. Rowan hadn’t lied, after all. He remembered how he was surrounded by a small crowd and looked behind him. Only Stella and Mia stood there. Mia still wore a smile on her face.