Hendrix ✓

50 ★ Picture of my past

As soon as I saw my motorcycle parked in the parking lot, I knew I was home free. My bike represents my freedom. No more human crowded travel.

Walking over to the bed, I sigh as I shrug a new jacket over my shoulders. I recall a flight attendant woman trying to flirt with me by brushing a hand against my leather jacket. I immediately took it off and shoved it in my carry on. I can't stand the scent of another female being on me at all. It makes me sick to my stomach.

I bend down to my knees, leaning over Hendrix and brushing my fingers over her hair. Her scent is the only one I want. I crave it.

Kissing her forehead, I just look at her for a few seconds, then I stand back up and force myself to walk away so I can get this over with. I need to tell Ezra the truth. He deserves to know. I know he played it off like he doesn't need it, but I know that it will at least give him some closure.

I'm thankful that Ardeta was kind enough to help me out with the files. I grab the papers from my bag before slipping out of the house into the cold night. Despite the weather warming up, the nights are still brisk throughout the summer months.

It's a quick trip to my office, it's in a little building with three other offices for my team. They each get their own space to do what they need. Ezra and Savannah use theirs often, but Ryk is not interested in being locked up inside. He says he craves the outdoors. I don't blame him, not many lycans like to be crammed behind a desk at our size. It's not very comfortable.

The night is dark, aside from the bright stars above. I trudge forward, not wasting a second of time.

I walk into the office and stomp off my boots. The grass outside is still damp from the melted snow that flows down from the mountains, not to mention the rainy weather that's been plaguing us.

Though the building it quiet, appearances can be deceiving. I know Ezra is already here. I can smell him right when I open the door.

He's sitting in my office, looking relaxed in a leather chair across from my desk, but I know otherwise. He may seem collected, but his scent tells a different story. He's agitated, anxious.

We've spoken already about his Mother before, I'd gotten a picture from the CPO. They said it was all they had on her.

Of course, Ezra already knows that Cole killed his mother. We never knew why, or who she even was. Now I do, and the background story isn't pretty. I'm not sure how he'll react to this. I've actually come to care about Ezra, and I don't want him hurt.

"What is it?" He asks, before I even land in my chair. I finally sit, observing him carefully as I lift the folder to the table and slip it open, my eyes wandering the pages and pursing my lips. I don't know where to start, or how to word it. I look back up at my Gamma.

His yellow eyes are restless, and he won't look away from me.

"I think you know what this is about." I guess, and his eyebrows furrow in question.

"My Mother?" He clarifies, and I nod grimly, pulling out a page with all her information. I scroll through the lines of information like I did countless times on the plane home. I know this information forwards and backwards.

"Her name was Ruby Townsend. She was from San Francisco, and she was only 22 years old when she gave birth to you. She was a human." I say slowly, trying to lessen the blow. He sinks down into his chair, running a hand over his face as he sobers up completely. These are the words he's been waiting to hear his whole life. He thought his Mother dumped him in a garbage can when he was a toddler, it's what he's been told all through his childhood.