Birth Right
Page 1
Birth Right
D.C. Lewis
After Glows Publishing
Birth Right
© Copyright 2017 D.C Lewis
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Published by: Opal Moon Press
PO Box 224
Middleburg, FL 32050
OpalMoonPress.com
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Cover by LKO Designs
Formatting by AG Formatting
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All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
OpalMoonPress.com
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
About the Author
Note from the publisher
Birth Right
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Kiera Hemmings doesn’t want to be a monster. She wants to spend her summer riding WaveRunners and taking camping trips, and to go back to college in the fall. But she’s a werewolf -- the first Lycoan born in 200 years, and next in line to take over her mother’s pack.
As her mother’s control over both her daughter and her pack weakens, and Kiera is nearly killed over the birthright she doesn’t want to claim, she finds herself at the center of overlapping wars she doesn’t fully understand. With a mysterious Watcher, rival Lycoan factions, her mother, and Brandon—a childhood friend she might be falling in love with, all competing for her future, Kiera must determine what a birthright truly is, and what she will -- or can -- do in the face of hers.
One
“What have I done?” Kiera thought to herself as she pulled into her mother’s driveway. “Can I really tolerate spending the entire summer at home with mother?” Punching in the code on the keypad, while the gate slowly creaked open, taking its dear sweet time. Kiera pondered her decision. Exhaling a deep breath, “Too late to change it now,” she mumbled.
Passing through the gate, Kiera was always shocked by the absurdity of her mother’s house. A six-bedroom colossus, rising from the ground like a wooden mountain, overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway. A house that she shared with no one except Kiera. A house that had never known a male occupant. A house that Kiera would immediately get rid of once her mother passed it on to her.
Putting her car in park, Kiera took a few moments to give herself a pep talk. She found it difficult being around her mother. Their ideas of what Kiera’s life should be when she got older were vastly different, different to the point that there was no ability to compromise. Kiera knew that there would be multiple discussions about this which always drained her. “What have I done?” she asked herself again.
Regardless, Kiera put a smile on her face. It was an unspoken agreement with her and her mother that they would always smile and be polite, no matter how they were feeling emotionally towards each other at the time. Adopting her role, she opened the car door and prepared to begin the first day of the next three months of her life.
Stepping to the rear of her silver M5 BMW, she popped the trunk to retrieve her belongings that were nestled in the Kate Spade Lisbon Luggage set that she bought for herself before embarking on this trip. The red and black luggage put a genuine smile on her face as she started pulling the bags out. The four-piece set was crammed full of clothes and other “necessities” that an 18-year-old girl needed in order to survive. Humming to herself, she closed the trunk, grabbed her four bags, and headed into the house.
She trudged up the steps to the front door but before she could put her key in the lock, the door opened and there stood her mother. And what an imposing figure she was. Standing six feet tall, Katrina Hemming could look her daughter straight in the eyes. The two women were sharp contrasts to each other. Katrina, with her long black hair, dark eyes, and broad shoulders, looked like a woman who had spent a lifetime engaged in manual labor. She wouldn’t be considered beautiful handsome was more often than not the adjective used to describe her.
Long blonde hair, green eyes, and a small frame stood opposite her. Kiera could be mistaken for a European supermodel. Here, there was no doubt she was beautiful. There was a 50 pound difference between mother and daughter the only physical trait they shared was their height.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Welcome home Kiera, let me help you with your things.”
Grabbing the two largest bags, Katrina lead the way to Kiera’s bedroom. Coming to the oaken door, Katrina set the bags next to the wall, gave Kiera a hard once-over and announced that dinner would be at 6 p.m. To a stranger, the cold formality would be uncomfortable. To Kiera, it was what she had always known.
Opening the door to her bedroom, Kiera took in a deep breath, absorbing the feeling and smell of her room. Looking around, it was exactly as she left it. Sky-blue walls bordered by clouds. Her twin bed with the Power Ranger comforter she had gotten as child. Oh how she had to beg her mother for it, who simply gave in so that Kiera would stop annoying her about it. The big bay window, streaming sunlight, seeming to welcome her home. Pictures, trophies, and medals were all hanging perfectly on the walls. A conspicuous lack of dust was the only detail that gave any indication that the room had not remained undisturbed for the past nine months. “She always has to be in control,” Kiera mused.
Even though she dreaded the next few months being at home, Kiera did have to admit that it felt good to be in her room, her sanctuary, the one place where she always felt safe. Dragging her luggage and plopping it onto the bed, she decided it was time to get settled in. She spent the next hour unpacking her things and putting them away. It wasn’t until she tried to put her clothes in her dresser that she realized just how large her wardrobe had gotten. There just wasn’t any room! How she hated to part with any of her clothing. But she knew it was time to bag some stuff up and take it to the local Goodwill so that she could make room for new stuff. Encountering the same problem in her walk-in closet, Kiera elected to visit the Goodwill as soon as humanly possible.
Although she wasn't finished unpacking, Kiera walked over to her desk and fired up her laptop to check her email. A smile crossed her face when she saw multiple emails from her college friends, wishing her luck and hoping that she would “survive” her three months at home. “If they only knew,” she said. Clicking through all her unread messages, she was happy to see an email from
Brandon Phelan, her childhood friend.
"Hey Kiera, just wanted to welcome you back home. Things haven’t changed at all as I am sure you can see. Hope we can get together sometime, I would like to see you if you have any time."
“Oh, Brandon, you sweet, insecure guy,” Kiera chuckled as she reminisced about how she had first met him.
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Lying on her bed and breathing in the aroma of home, Kiera stretched fully out, contracting her muscles and arching her back. She was a little stiff from her car ride. Releasing, her body succumbed to gravity and she landed gently on her bed, the comforter billowing with the sudden rush of air. Laying there, Kiera just lets her mind wander, not really focusing on anything, just a blissful lack of direction. It was the first time she had been able to do this in quite some time so it was an incredible annoyance when there was a knock at her door. Forcing herself to get out of bed, she opens her door to see Katrina standing there.
“Dinner in one hour, Kiera.”
“Ok, thank you,” Kiera says impatiently and closes her door. “As if I can’t tell time,” she mumbles, “I have been living on my own for the past 9 months.”
Attempting to recapture the peacefulness she was feeling prior to the interruption, Kiera lays back down. Her bed just felt so good and before she knew it, she had dozed off.
The smell of pine and earth permeates the air as Kiera races through an indistinguishable forest. With more speed than she has ever experienced, she expertly weaves between the tall wooden giants at ground-eating pace. The woods feel uninhabited and a peaceful tranquility overcomes her as she continues running. Looking down, she doesn’t recognize the legs that are carrying her so swiftly, they are covered in…
Jolting awake, Kiera gasped for breath. The dream that had remained absent for so long had returned. Drenched in sweat, Kiera could scarcely believe that it had resurfaced once more but with much more detail that ever before. She could still smell the forest. “Hair.” she mumbled, “Covered in hair.”
Visibly trembling, Kiera got out of bed and made her way downstairs for dinner, her mind racing, trying to make sense of the dream and its sudden return. It had never felt so real and full of detail before. It had always before been more of a blurry movie where she was the audience member, not the star.
“What is the matter, Kiera?” Katrina asked.
“Just a bad dream.”
Bending her head in acknowledgment, Katrina looked her daughter straight in the eyes. “You cannot deny what you are.”
“Can we please NOT talk about this now?” Kiera said with a strong tone.
“Fine, but you cannot hide forever, eventually you will become your true self,” retorted Katrina.
A wave of nausea hit Kiera like of ton of brick and her vision started to blur. She felt her body go numb and her legs buckle. She is falling, falling towards the hardwood floor and there is nothing she can do to fight the force of gravity as it pulls her down. A strong pair of arms wrap around her back and waist and prevent the inevitable crash.
“When was the last time you ate,” a voice mumbles in the far distance.
“Some…..sometime this morning,” Kiera stammers.
Powerful arms picked her up and transported her to the couch. They gently placed her lengthwise with her head on a cushion. Moments later, warm liquid was being poured down her throat. Reflexively, Kiera swallowed and felt the warmth spread all over her body. The more she drank, the sharper her vision became and the more feeling she got her arms and legs. After a few minutes she was able to sit up and focus on the shape sitting in front of her. Katrina sat there with a bowl of beef broth, slowly spooning the flavorful fluid into Kiera’s mouth.
“You should know better,” Katrina admonished, “You know how fast our metabolisms are, and that we cannot go that long without eating. This is a mistake a young pup makes, not an 18-year-old.”
Try as she might, Kiera could not argue. It was a foolish mistake and one that she had not made since she was a child. “What a great first day. I can’t wait to see what the rest of the summer holds,” she thought sarcastically.
“Come, your body needs more than just beef broth. While nutritious, it will only appease you for so long.” Reaching down to grab an arm, Katrina helped Kiera from the couch and lead her to the kitchen where dinner was waiting.
The buffet that was presented to Kiera caused a small flare of nausea to resurface. The sheer amount of food could feed a family of six, yet it was prepared just for her and her mother. Kiera felt her stomach rise as she surveyed all the uncooked meat. Noticing her daughter’s distress and hesitation, Katrina took a plate and started piling it with select choices.
“I’m not eating that raw, mother, I would like to have it cooked,” Kiera stated.
“Cooking is a waste of time for our kind. This is how our ancestors ate, this is how we will eat. Stop hanging on to those human formalities and accept who and what you are.”
“Fine, I will just go without eating.” Kiera said it stubbornly, her chin rising slightly in defiance.
A shudder passed through Katrina's body as she gained control of her emotions.
"Be glad that you are my daughter and successor. Were you any other, this conversation would be very different", Katrina said with smoldering eyes full of rage. "If you want this cooked, you will have to do it yourself. While you need to eat, I refuse to engage in this stupidity."
Kiera prudently decided to keep her mouth closed, prepare her dinner, and get out of her mother's presence as quickly as possible.
Placing her plate and silverware in the rarely-used dishwasher, she decided to hurry upstairs before her mother could corner her again, her socks enabling her to expertly slide across the wooden floor to the foot of the stairs, fleeing to the sanctuary of her bedroom once more.
Two
Today was the day she was supposed to be back in town. He hadn’t seen her in months and the
anticipation of her arrival was building. He remembers the first time her ever saw her.
Brandon lay on the ground surrounded by five kids all older and bigger than him. Curled up in the fetal position, anticipating the forthcoming kicks and punches, tears streamed down his face and he just wished for it to be over. His glasses were broken and his nose bleeding, pouring crimson liquid all over the ground, the smell of the freshly cut grass being tainted by the coppery miasma filling his nostrils. “You little freak!” one of the bullies shouted. “We told you not to come back to this park!” Brandon attempted to explain that he had to walk through the park in order to get home but was quickly silenced with a kick to the stomach. All the air rushed out of his lungs and through his nose, causing a bloody explosion that covered the front of one of the bully’s shirts. “My mom just bought this for me! Now you are going to pay,” the bully screamed. Bracing himself for the impending onslaught, Brandon was surprised when it didn’t come. Chancing a look, he cracked open his eyes to see someone between him and his aggressors. Standing there defiantly with her long blonde hair swaying in the breeze, she stared them down.
“Leave him alone Josh Riley!” she yelled.
“Oh look, the freak has to have a girl protect him,” the bully said, ‘Get out of here Kiera before you get hurt.”
Without a second's hesitation, Kiera firmly punched Josh in the nose. Reeling from the blow, he staggered and held his hand to his nose as blood gushed down on his shirt, ruining it even more. Stunned, his cohorts stared warily at Kiera and took off running. Josh stood there looking defeated, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes and hatred pouring from them. Realizing that he was all alone he quickly took off in the direction of his friends, vowing revenge on Kiera and her little freak.
Brandon could scarcely believe what had just happened. Even though he knew there would eventually be retaliation and that he would suffer more indignities because a girl had come to his rescue, he was incredibly grateful for this blonde warrior. Attempting to get up, Brandon stumbled to his feet and was s
teadied by his rescuer. In her hand she held his glasses, the lenses cracked and the frame bent beyond all recognition. Not even bothering to put his glasses back on, Brandon looked up to see green eyes intently studying him. Taken back by their ferocity, Brandon quickly looked away.
“Hi, I’m Kiera,” she said.
“I’m Brandon.”
“Nice to meet you Brandon, want to walk with me?”
“Sure.”
And from that point on, Kiera and Brandon had remained the best of friends.
But for Brandon, it had evolved into something deeper than friendship. Not that he could ever tell her for fear that the awkwardness that would come from feelings not being reciprocated would cause her departure from his life and he so enjoyed being around her. He only wished he could be more relaxed in her presence. He always seemed to do something to embarrass himself, whether it be tripping over some invisible obstacle, becoming nauseating by some smell, or simply stuttering as a response to her playful joking. But she never seemed to mind and he always admired her ability to have such an air of confidence about herself. It seemed as if very few things bothered her and that for the most part she had things figured out.
His heart raced when his phone and he saw her number pop up on the illuminated display.