"So this is Mia?" His voice is deep and full of authority. He says my name like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. I can't lie and say I'm not intimidated. He's frightening. He oozes power and masculinity. He doesn't look like anyone's uncle. He's just too young for that. I look at my bare feet, because I can't meet his eyes. There's something cruel in them.
"Yes, uncle."
"Do you know why you're here?" He asks me. I look up and I bet my face says it all. I don't have a clue why I'm here. I don't belong here. This has all been a huge mistake.
"No. I don't."
He smiles at my response. It's patronizing, his smile. I feel small next to him, and it has nothing to do with our difference in height. I feel insignificant. "Well then, I believe we should enlighten her. Don't you think, Cyran?" He turns his back to me and takes a seat by the fire.
Cyran grabs my arm. I look at him in disbelief. What does he think he's doing? I shake his grip off. He reluctantly lets me go. He says through clenched teeth, "Go sit next to him."
I scowl. "No." He grabs me again and I hiss at him. "Let go of me."
"Problem, nephew?" Serge asks, and there's an edge to his voice. I still instantly and Cyran shoves me forward. "None at all, uncle. Mia's only having a hard time getting used to all of this."
"Is that so?" Serge keeps peering into the fire. "What bothers you, dear Mia? Care to share?"
Cyran tightens his grip on my arm and I feel his breath on my neck. "It isn't wise to disrespect the Alpha. Go." He shoves me and I turn around to glare at him. He's watching me through narrowed eyes. Is this normal? Is he kidding me? He's mad at me right now?
This can't be happening.
I take a seat next to Serge and try not to look at his...privates. Cyran was serious about nobody getting dressed around here. It's ridiculous. I cross my legs and my arms. He has this dreamy expression on his face. He's gazing at the flames as if it's the best kind of entertainment. The same way one would look at a television. Do werewolves even watch television?
"This place," he begins without any introduction. "It's sickening. FireMoon isn't like this. Our House is luxurious, comfortable. I was born in that House." His eyes glaze over. I look down at my hands because I don't know what to say. Or what he even expects from me. I don't even understand what he means completely. It feels like I might wake up at any moment, and Garrett will be by my side and we'll laugh about this terrible dream someday. But this is real. If anything, Cyran's uncle, this Alpha, confirmed everything. He isn't human. He's shaped like a man and talks like a man, but there's something amiss about him. Something feral.
He's most definitely not human. There's a difference in the way he talks and acts. Sure, he's speaking English, but it's strange, like he's from a distant land. Like how Cyran sounded when I first hit him with my car. Speaking of which, I should've killed him. I should've never stopped.
"When those Rogues attacked FireMoon and killed my brother and his wife, my whole world fell apart. I was lost without him. Most of the pack was killed during the attack, but by the grace of the Moon, my nephews were spared." He looks at Cyran. "Cyran and Calhoun were about three. I raised them as my own. I built a new FireMoon from the ashes, and made our pack strong and respectable. It's by no means like BlackPaw," he chuckles. I don't get the joke. What is this BlackPaw? "But, it's getting there. That's before Calhoun took it from me." He hisses the last part. I inch away from him automatically. I couldn't control myself. What the hell? "I raised him like a son, and how did that mutt thank me? He thanked me by taking my pack and my place. I'm the rightful Alpha. Me, and no one else. Who does he think he is?"
"Uncle," Cyran says. Like a warning.
"I'll tear out his throat the next time I get my paws on him. Mark my words, child. I should have whipped the envy and contempt out of him when he was a pup." His teeth are barred and his fangs are protruding from his mouth. There's saliva slithering down his chin and there's hair sprouting all over his body. It's grotesque. I want to stand and run, but it's like I'm glued to the ground. Serge turns to me and I scream. His face is splitting apart and it's a horrendous sight. I'll never recover from this. Cyran comes up behind me and pulls me up. I cower behind him. I'm shaking.
He puts his hands up. "Don't, uncle. Calm down." These four little words reverse the entire situation. Serge composes himself and the hair gradually disappears. He returns to normal and he runs a hand down his face, that wasn't a face ten seconds ago. What is this? I'm going to lose my mind here. I'll lose it.
"Forgive me," he says. "I am not myself lately. These past few months have been torturous and unforgiving."
Cyran turns to look at me. He nods at me reassuringly. I don't know why I need his reassurance, or why I'm even listening to him, but I sit next to Serge. The heat from the fireplace is scalding. I'm not sure this is safe, taking into consideration the fact that this entire cabin is made of wood. This place could burn down in the middle of the night.
None of us say a thing for the longest time. I obviously have nothing to say to either of them and Cyran is standing behind us, so I can't see him.
"I'll have to ask you to leave, nephew. I'm no longer in the mood to entertain," Serge says. Cyran taps my arm and I stand. I follow him out of the cabin and into my own. I guess I should call it my own. I'm traumatized. I'll never become whole again after what I saw in there. His face. I can't get it off my mind. It's cold and I rub my arms. He enters and closes the door. I don't know what else he could possibly say to me.
He should've killed me when he had the chance.
"There's a lot you still don't know."
I spin around. "Can you read my mind?"
"It's not necessarily called mind reading." He walks over to me. "Because I Marked you, I'm in a certain way connected to you. It's my blood rushing through your veins. I can feel your thoughts and your moods, but only vaguely. Only when you feel something intensely. You're afraid of my uncle."
"I'm not." My answer is automatic, but it's a complete lie. I can feel how dangerous he is and I don't want to be near him. It's something rooted deep inside me. I can't truly understand it, but it's there.
"You should be," he warns. "My uncle is known for his unpredictability. He's dangerous and volatile, and you should steer clear of him. Do you understand?"
I nod my consent. Then I feel stupid for it.
We stare at each other in silence. Then, he says, "We created this pack for the sole purpose of claiming FireMoon back. Cal shouldn't have done this to us." He shakes his head. "My uncle is right. He raised us. My brother had no business challenging him and claiming his spot as Alpha. And telling lies. He's always been this way, always wanting what doesn't belong to him. What he can't have. I don't understand him, and I never will."
I don't know what he wants me to say. I really don't care about any of this. I don't even know what he's talking about. I take this opportunity to look at him, really look at him.
It feels like the first time I'm looking at him. I was seeing him, but I wasn't looking. I'm not sure if I'm making sense.
He's handsome, without a doubt. He's tall and muscular. He has a cleft on his chin and his eyebrows are thick and arched. His eyes are unnaturally green and his lips are succulent and rosy. He smiles at me suddenly and I blush against my will.
"Like what you see?"
"No," I huff indignantly. "Why should I?" There's something inside of me that does. Something that sings when he's near and wants to touch him. I suppress it. This irrationality needs to stop. He's a monster and I hate him for turning me into a monster. He took me away from Garrett. From my life. I was working towards my degree in business administration. I had plans to graduate and a brilliant future ahead of me. He took all of this away from me. I need to focus on more important things, like getting out of here. He can't keep my here forever. I don't want to stay here.
I can't.