The White-Moon children have been fighting for their lives for as long as they could remember. Their parents past haunts them as they struggle to find who they are.
As they find their mates, a prophecy takes a turn for the worse.
Will Kendan become...
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My hands were tight against the porcelain of the sink. My livid figure looked back at me through the mirror, the image reflecting everything I didn't want to see.
My body was throbbing in pain, I could barely stand without the dizzying pain nearly consuming me. After pretending to be asleep long enough for Ellis to fall asleep, I had dragged myself out of the damned hospital bed and to the bathroom. Where I currently stood, enduring the pain that had me nearly kneeling over as I gritted my teeth.
I was a Lycan, I should be healed already, the extent of my injuries regardless. I came from an Alpha family, that blood flowed through my veins. It should have helped with the healing, not hindered it.
I was just glad I didn't end up with the broken leg, I felt for Ellis. Neither of us could sit still for long, but Ellis would be jumping off the walls if we weren't doing something after being home for an hour. How he was going to manage to sit still long enough to heal was beyond me.
My fingers were aching as they grasped the sink, they'd been white for some time now, the familiar tanned skin gone replaced with a shocking pale.
I wasn't happy with what I was looking at in the mirror. All of this was going down and I was expected to just lay in bed and sleep? I bet that plenty of the pack wished they could lay down and rest for a moment, but they weren't complaining.
Letting the rim of the sink go, I stood for a moment, getting my bearings, lifting one foot to take a step away from the sink, my other leg buckled. My ribs hit the sink harshly as I lurched over, grabbing onto it so I wouldn't fall to the ground.
I wouldn't be able to get up once I fell.
I breathed harshly through my nose, struggling not to yell out in pain and frustration as I slowly straightened up again, facing myself in the mirror.
Ellis and I had always been identical in our looks. When we were younger our mother had a hard time keeping track of who was who, going as far as giving us different colored anklets. As we grew, and our personalities developed she found herself not needing to check our anklets to make sure who was who.
Ellis became the chipper one and I was moody and always brooding about something.
I had known since I was young that something had been wrong with my beast. He was violent, lashing out at the smallest things. His violent streak soon affected me as I became violent as well.
I was young when the first incident happened, and the beast was furious, he was always mad, but he was past that point when we had found out that Ellis left to play with his friends. Even at the age of 5, my twin knew there was something wrong, and he was embarrassed.
