Being the princess of all werewolves is not easy, but finding a mate is harder. Annabeth's royal life is turned upside down when she meets her mate, Kate.
Soon, she finds herself stuck between two choices: her duties to her family, and her love for...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The first thing I do as I hear the door close behind me is let out a shaky breath. My shoulders sink a few good inches and I feel a weight lift off my chest.
Home.
Dad nudges me on the arm a little "You alright, Pancake?" he asks, his brows almost touching.
I simply nod, humming sounds of acknowledgment "Just tired, I guess."
"Do you wanna go to your room and lay down a bit, I can call you when dinner is ready."
I think about it for a second but the thought of being alone in my room, on my bed... it doesn't sit well. "No, I'm fine"
"See, I told you, George, she missed us," my mom calls from the kitchen laughing. I see her putting away the apron, drying her hands before hurrying over to engulf me in the tightens hug ever, cradling me slowly from one side to the other.
"Mom!" I exclaim like a whiny teenager, as she starts planting kisses on my forehead and temple.
"Rose, take it easy, you can shower her with all your motherly love after you made dinner." But despite saying that, he takes the wooden spoon himself, stirring in the pods and checking the oven.
After another crushing squeeze, paired with a squeal she lets go of me, walking back to help my dad. I just stand there, taking the picture in, sighing.
"You sure you are okay, Honey?" Mom asks.
I gift her a small smile but roll my eyes anyway "Yeah, Mom."
"Teenagers are such a delight," Dad chuckles, "Come Pancake, sit down."
But I refuse, instead, I pull out the plates and begin to set the table. Doing nothing feels wrong, and that's exactly what I've been doing the last few days, nothing. The fork goes on the left, or is it the right side? I never seem to remember. With nimble fingers, I simply roll the cutlery into a napkin and place the small bundle on the respective plates, just like always. But Dad isn't having it, guiding me gently but firmly to my usual seat.
"Coke?" He asks and I nod, thanking him as he slides me the can.
"So, you want to talk, right?" It's more a statement than a question. I know they are dying to know what happened, what I have to say. They've probably read the reports, but I am sure they have tons of questions, and I can't blame them.
"If you feel like it, Honey."
Shrugging, I pop the can open, twisting it in my hands, again and again. "You already know I shifted, what else do you want to know?" The small ice-cold drops of condensation water mix with the sweat that begins to wet my palms.
"Tell us what happened," Mom says gently, taking the seat next to me.
My eyes trail around a bit until they land on the window that leads into the deep dark forest of the setting day, like a doorway to my memories. My mind is scrambling in need of the right words, but I don't find them so I start anyway, I'm not sure there is even a 'right' way to begin. "We walked and talked and then we heard them, there were so so many of them." I need to pause, suddenly surprised by my rising pulse, as I remember the foreshadowing howls from the past, and I can feel my heartbeat fasten with every single one of them. "Ann told me to run home, and that I shouldn't hide and that I have to keep running home no matter what I hear."
