Wild Blood: The Trueborn Saga Book 1

by Samantha Wolfe

  Silver abruptly flashes in Emmett's eyes, and he surges to his feet. His chair crashes to the floor behind him as he yanks his shirt off over his head. Oh no. He's about to shift, and my father is still wearing his uniform, which includes his service weapon.

  Fear supersedes any lingering fatigue or confusion, and I lurch to my feet as he starts to convulse and writhe into the shift. I stagger across the room as he leans down toward the floor with his hands. Dark-gray fur is already rippling across his back and his body is contorting under his skin.

  Dad gasps with a shocked and horrified expression and staggers back a step. Before Emmett can even finish shifting, he's already pulling his pistol from its holster. As the wolf's massive paws hit the tile floor, the barrel of the gun is moving upward to point at his chest. I fling myself forward toward the two most important men in my life with no thought to my own safety.

  "No!" I cry as I throw myself at Emmett and latch my arms around his furry neck.

  There's a loud blast from the gun. White-hot pain rakes a line across my left upper arm as the wolf jerks against me. I feel the splash of something hot and wet hit my cheek. I hear shouting and screaming and snarling as the world starts to wink out on me. Then everything goes black.

  I wake up after what feels like mere seconds to find myself lying in a strange bed, feeling like shit and all kinds of confused again. I feel a solid and familiar presence curled up next to my hip on top of the blankets, and assume it's Luna. I just lie there for several moments staring up at the slowly spinning ceiling fan of an unfamiliar bedroom as I ache all over. This time I'm sweating and freezing to death all at the same time too. I must really be sick. I moan softly through chattering teeth as I roll to my left side and feel a throbbing pain in my arm.

  "Ow," I whimper pathetically as I turn onto my back again. I reach over to find a bandage wrapped around my upper bicep. What the? How the hell did I get hurt?

  "Baby girl?" I hear my dad say in an unsteady and choked-up voice.

  I glance to my right to see Dad rising from a nearby club chair to step toward me. His face is a mask of anguish, his eyes and cheeks wet with tears.

  "Dad," I say pitifully as he sits on the edge of the bed next to me. "I feel terrible, and I hurt all over. Did I have another seizure? I don't even remember how I hurt my arm. Wh...what happened?"

  "A bullet grazed you."

  "What?" I blurt in shock.

  He closes his eyes and drops his head as his body deflates wearily. "I..." he began in a strained and wavering tone. "I...I shot you."

  His words trigger a burst of clarity, and I suddenly remember what happened earlier. I remember Emmett shifting and Dad firing his gun. I remember the sharp pain of a bullet hitting me as Emmett's wolf form jolted in my arms. I remember blood. Oh my God. Emmett was shot too. I gasp as terror floods my body in an icy rush.

  "Where's Emmett?" I ask in a panicked voice. "Where is he? Is he okay?" I try to sit up, but the world spins. I'm too weak to fight it, and I flop back down onto my pillow with a harsh sob. "Where is he?" I mewl out as my heart seizes with agony and devastation at the thought of him being hurt, or worse, being dead and gone.

  "I'm here, Rav," Emmett's voice says quietly from across the room. "I'm fine."

  I look to the left to see Emmett standing just inside the doorway of the bedroom. Oh thank God. Relief sweeps through me, and I reach a hand out toward him. I'm desperate to touch him, to feel our bond and know that it's still there, that he's really here. I see need and longing in his eyes, but he hesitates and doesn't come to me. I don't understand.

  "Please," I whisper, still reaching for him.

  He crosses the space between us in an instant and takes my hand. I feel his love and his affection, but swirling all around it is guilt and anguish, and I don't why.

  "I'm so sorry," he says tremulously as he drops to his knees next to the bed. He presses my hand to his cheek, his ice-blue eyes swimming with tears. "It's my fault you got shot. I...I just wanted to make him believe us."

  "No," Dad interjected in a mournful tone. "This is all on me. I'm the one who panicked and pulled the trigger and shot my own daughter." He shook his head. "I'm the one who shot you."

  I gasp and try to sit up again, my fear and worry flowing into Emmett.

  "Shh, baby," he says as he gently pushes me back down onto the mattress. "Bullets can't hurt me. I'm okay."

  "Promise?" I ask softly. He looks fine, dressed in a tank top and loose fitting track pants. From what I can see of his bare skin, he appears uninjured.

  "I promise." Emmett smiles and turns his face to kiss my palm. "I'm all healed up and good as new already."

  "Thank God," I say and caress his scruffy cheek with gentle fingertips.

  I love him so much and let it flow into him, along with the fact that I don't blame him one damn bit for what happened. It was an accident. I just don't know what led to Emmett and his parents telling my father the truth in the first place or why they risked the pack by doing it.

  I feel Dad watching and glance over expecting to see angry animosity toward Emmett since Dad now knows he's not human, or at the very least some disapproval. Instead, I see grudging respect, and a cautious and wary acceptance in his eyes. From my dad, that's a lot more than any other boyfriend in the past ever received. It's a very good thing since Emmett is so much more than just a boyfriend. He's my love, my mate, my future.

  "Where are we?" I ask curiously, now that I know Emmett is okay.

  "We're at my parent's house," he replies. "This is my old room."

  "O...kay..." I say slowly, wondering why we're here and not at my house or Emmett's place.

  "We thought it would best if you stayed here for now."

  "Best?" I ask in confusion. "Best for what?"

  Suddenly, Emmett's emotions turn nervous and uncertain. He shares a worried glance with my father before meeting my eyes again. "It's best to have the pack around you while your body goes through the change."

  "Change?" I blurt out and shake my head in bewilderment. "What change?"

  I feel Emmett steel himself and this time he speaks with determination and conviction. "The change into a werewolf."

  "What?!" I screech out as I sit up with a sudden and dizzying jerk. Luna whines and crawls up the bed to lick my face, and I push her away. "What the fuck are you talking about? That's not right. I'm not...I can't... You said I was a wild blood human. I'm not...I'm not a werewolf. I...I can't be," I babble out, then look to my father with fearful and pleading eyes. "Tell him, Dad. Tell him I can't be one. It's impossible."

  Dad purses his lips, his eyes sympathetic and pained, and not what I expected at all. "What Emmett says is true, baby girl," he tells me softly. "I don't want to believe it either, but your body has been trying to shift during your seizures today. I saw for myself during the last one you had before we brought you here a few hours ago."

  I blink back tears and try to fight down my panicked breathing as I frantically shake my head. "No, no, no. It can't be...it can't be." I start nervously fluttering my hands in my lap. "We would know. We would know," I add in a whisper even though I know it's not true, but I'm too terrified to admit it.

  We never knew anything about my biological parents. I was left at the doorstep of a fire station as an infant with no hint or clue as to where I came from. Dad was the first officer to respond that night, and he's always told me that he knew the instant he held me in his arms that I belonged to Mom and to him. They became foster parents for me, and adopted me as soon as they were able. Unfortunately, the ovarian cancer and subsequent hysterectomy that stole her ability to have her own children, came back with a vengeance and stole her from me before I even had a chance to know her. It's just been Dad and me ever since.

  My father reaches out to take my hands in his, and stills their frantic movements. "I've been told that what we thought was epilepsy was actually puberty waking the wolf inside you. Cadie thinks that the seizure medications must have somehow suppressed it
all this time," Dad explained. "She believes that," -he glances over at Emmett with an uncomfortable expression- "your intimate association with Emmett woke the wolf again and finally made it strong enough to show itself, despite the medication."

  I look to Emmett, who nods in conformation, and I pull one hand away from my father to reach for him. Emmett immediately squeezes it in a warm reassuring grip.

  "I'm so scared," I tell him in a pathetic whimper.

  "Don't be afraid," he tells me. "You're not alone. I've been through this, and so has my father, my brothers, and my sisters. My mom and your dad and Luna are here for you too. We'll all help you get through this, and you'll be okay. I promise."

  I nod. "Will it...will it hurt?"

  "I'm not going to lie, Rav," Emmett says candidly. "The days leading up to your first shift will be miserable, and when it finally happens it will be very painful. But after that you'll feel better than you ever have in your life, and shifting will get easier and hurt less over time."

  I nod infinitesimally since my head and body are throbbing again. My skin is clammy and tight, like it doesn't fit my body. My eyes feel hot as the pain starts to pound excruciatingly behind them. I don't think I've ever felt this badly before in my life. I swoon a little as blackness rims my vision, and Emmett immediately stands so he can ease me onto my back again.

  "How long?" I ask with a soft sob as I close my eyes. "How long do I have to feel like this?"

  He breathes out a resigned sigh and answers, "It usually lasts about a week."

  "A week?" I say in a horrified tone, whipping my eyes open against the fatigue crashing down on me.

  "Shh, baby," Emmett coos as he leans down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "Don't worry about that now. Just go to sleep, and I'll be here when you wake up."

  "Promise?" I slur out as I start losing my fight against sleep. My eyes start fluttering closed against my will.

  "I promise," he says, still holding my hand. "I'll always be here for you," he adds, his voice low and gruff with emotion.

  A soothing caress of love and affection spills into me through our mating bond. It eases my pain and misery enough that I can drift away into a peaceful slumber.

  26

  EMMETT

  I wake feeling like I didn't sleep at all, my eyes gritty, my mouth full of cotton, and my head muddled and sluggish. It was another long night for Raven, filled with delirious fevers, heartbreaking moans and whimpers of pain, and thrashing around during several nightmares.

  I held her in my arms through all of it, naked and skin to skin to strengthen the bond between us. I spent most of the night trying desperately to send soothing emotions. Even as her scattered and tortured ones tried to pull me down and drown me right along with her. It was mostly successful until I drifted off to sleep and start having nightmares of my own that were fed by her fear and suffering invading my psyche. This couldn't end soon enough. I'd had it with watching and feeling my mate's misery for the last five days.

  Thankfully, she stopped having seizures within a day of letting the medication get out of her system. She did try to shift unsuccessfully yesterday though, her body twisting and contorting in a way that appeared only subtly different than a seizure. I can see why her father thought that was what it was the first time he saw it happen when she was thirteen. Mom theorizes that over time, her wolf's efforts to get out must have turned into actual seizures as it struggled to free itself more and more over the years. Hence the frequent medication changes as the wolf slowly learned to overpower each one.

  Right now, she's actually sleeping peacefully as she lies warm and languid in my arms. Her emotions are for once tranquil and content with sleep, and she doesn't have a fever either. Good. I need to get up and take a piss, then find something to eat before my stomach starts consuming itself. I long to head out into the forest and hunt, but leaving Raven long enough to do that isn't something I can do until this is over. She needs me to take care of her. There will be time enough for hunting later, and next time I could enjoy it with Raven by my side. The thought of running through the trees with my mate every night for the rest of my life fills the man and the wolf in me with joy.

  I let out a low rumble of contentment and nuzzle into her hair for a moment. I breathe in her honey sweet scent as I listen to her heart's slow and steady beat. Then I kiss her cheek softly before disentangling myself from her warm body and crawling out of bed. Luna lifts her head to look at me from where she's been sleeping curled up at the foot of the bed.

  "Watch over her, girl," I whisper to her, and reach over to stroke the little husky's furry head.

  She swishes her tail a couple of times in reply before dropping her head down onto her paws and going back to sleep. I pull on a T-shirt and athletic shorts from the bag of clothes I've been living out of for the last few days before treading quietly out of the room. Then I carefully close the door behind me, and make use of the bathroom across the hall.

  It's dark and quiet when I make my way upstairs to the kitchen of my parent's large split-level home, since neither the sun nor anyone else is up this early. Ordinarily, I wouldn't be up at this ungodly hour either. I flip on the lights as I walk into the kitchen, then start a pot of coffee brewing. I gather what I need to make bacon and eggs, and pour a huge bowl full of cereal to eat while I cook.

  By the time I polish off my cereal, the bacon and eggs are done and piled high on a plate. Then I pull the toast out of the toaster and lay it atop the mound of food. Yeah, a werewolf's high metabolism requires a lot of fuel. I pour a mug of coffee for myself, then sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen island to dig into my breakfast.

  I'm only a few bites in when my heightened hearing picks up the sound of a familiar SUV pulling up the driveway out front. Shit. I stiffen as an urge to flee back to my room hits me, then I sigh when I realize that's a ridiculous notion. I steel my backbone and continue eating as footfalls travel up the steps of the front porch. Then the front door clicks open, and the footsteps move through the house toward the kitchen. I glance up from a spoonful of eggs just as Brandon Cade enters the room in his gray and black Wolcott P.D. uniform. He looks tired and haggard. Watching Raven suffer these last few days has been hard on him too.

  He's been staying here for the last five days in one of the guest rooms. We've mostly avoided being alone together this whole time, which is easy when a family as big as mine is hanging around. Whether it was purposefully or not on his part, it definitely was on mine. Not only am I the one defiling his daughter, but I threw the truth of what I am in his face. I shifted in front him with no warning, and got Raven and myself shot for my impulsive stupidity. Raven could have been killed since she's still humanly vulnerable until her first shift. I feel guilt and shame for what I did, and the pain of that bullet to the chest wasn't near enough of a penance for it as far as I'm concerned. I've been a coward and didn't want to face the man ever since. Now it looks like that moment has finally arrived, and I need to man up.

  His steps falter a bit when he sees me. His face grows blank and unreadable, but he can't hide the anger glittering in his dark eyes. I can hear his heart rate spike and scent the fear he doesn't want me to see. More than likely, it's what's pissing him off. He's afraid of me, and has been since he saw me shift, and I don't blame him.

  When that bullet tagged Raven as it slammed into my chest, the wolf in me lost its mind in a protective rage at the scent of her blood and the feel of her pain. If it hadn't been for my father stepping between us, I think I would've gone for his throat and killed him in that moment. I was nothing but a mindless savage beast at that point. Dad literally had to slam me onto the floor and physically hold me there until I calmed down, before he commanded me to shift back. I obeyed my alpha and turned human again, and the bullet popped out of my chest to plink onto the tile floor as I swiftly healed.

  By then, my mother was trying to hold pressure on Raven's arm wound as she started to seize again. There was a lot of blood all over the floor,
and though most of it was mine, I was still horrified. My impetuous decision almost cost Raven everything. My shame and guilt nearly wrecked me in that moment. I crawled to my mate covered in both our blood, broken and sobbing as I pulled her into my arms. All the while, her father stood there watching in horrified shock with his gun hanging lax in his fingers.

  Dad promptly took the gun from him and sat him in a chair, then proceeded to talk him down from going into full-blown emotional shock. Brandon Cade is strong and resilient like his daughter, and recovered quickly since she needed him. But his fear of me is still there, still very real, and it made me feel like shit. I needed to fix this.

  "I made coffee if you want some," I say to him in an attempt to offer him an olive branch. We can't go on like this if I'm going to be a part of Raven's life from here on out.

  "Sure, thanks," he says with little to no inflection and breaks our eye contact to make a beeline for the coffee maker. His body language is stiff with obvious discomfort as he pulls a mug from the nearby cupboard and fixes himself a cup of coffee with the cream and sugar I left out.

  "There's more food too, if you're hungry." I cooked a dozen eggs and a whole package of bacon, and though most of it's on my plate, there's still some left. I was saving it for Raven, in case she felt up to eating something when she woke up, but I could always make more later.

  He turns to eye the huge portion on my plate and snorts out an unexpected laugh. "Are you sure there's any left?"

  "Yeah," I answer with a small smile. "It's in the warming drawer."

  "Thanks," he says with a nod and leans down to grab the plate out of the drawer below the oven. He grabs his coffee and surprisingly comes to sit next to me at the breakfast bar, despite the fear I can still smell on him. My respect for this man increases even more. Raven is lucky to have him in her life.

  He glances at my food again. "Do you always eat that much?"

  "All werewolves do," I explain with a nod. "So you better get used to it since your grocery bill is about to go through the roof," I add with a smirk.