Chapter One.

I put my father's dinner in front of him and he quickly dug into it like a pig after a 'long day' at the office. I looked at my mother who had a cigarette in one hand and a wine glass with vodka and soda in the other. She didn't eat much, mostly just alcohol so I know I'll end up having to put her dinner in the microwave for her to eat when she wakes up in the middle of the night. I heard my dad coughing and my head snapped to him, worried. He cleared his throat, grabbed his glass of wine, and took a few sips. He then shoved the plate off the table.

Huh? I thought stunned.

The plate smashed into a million pieces and I cringed at the sound. I hurried toward it to clean it up but my dad got up and I instinctively cowered away from him. He stalked over to me and grabbed my face, pressing his fingers roughly into my cheeks and tilt my back to make me look up at him.

"It was too spicy. After you pick it up, I want you to make me another one without that much spice. You understand?" he asked as his dark soulless eyes bored into mine.

I nodded quickly, "Yes, daddy."

He roughly shoved me letting go of my face, "Good."

I quickly bent down and cleaned up his mess as fast as I could. If I didn't hurry, he'd get mad and I'd get smacked. I shuddered at the thought and cleaned faster. After cleaning up the mess, I went into the kitchen, threw away pieces of the broken plate, and dumped the rest of the mess in the sink. I hurried and made my dad another steak. Within five minutes, it was finished. I placed it in front of him and he took a bite. He didn't spit it out or push the plate away, so I knew it was fine.

A cry from the kitchen started. "Go shut him up." my dad ordered and I nodded.

I dashed into the kitchen and picked up my nine month old brother Tyler from the high chair. I placed him on my hip and bounced him as I made him a bottle of his milk. I'm just happy he's grown out of needing formula and I can give him regular milk now. Formula took too long to make.

I gave him the bottle and he held it by himself. He sucked it down and closed his pale green eyes. I kissed his forehead and ruffled his pale blond hair. I bounced him a few more times and started to hum a lullaby. He liked the soothing sound of it. You can say I'm more like his mother than our actual mother is. She doesn't take care of him, I do. I change him, bathe him, feed him, dress him, get up in the middle of the night to rock him back to sleep, and do everything else. All she did was carry and give birth to him.

But I don't care, I would do anything for Tyler. I won't let him get hurt like I do. I have this motherly instinct to take a hit for him. It's more than what our mom does for us. She doesn't care if my dad hits us. But I do. Tyler's a baby, he doesn't know when to cry or not, what's right or wrong, or what's going on. All he knows is to cry at the moment. So when dad gets angry towards him, I turn his anger to me by doing whatever draws his attention from Tyler.

Tyler laid his head down on my shoulder. He must be getting tired. I walked up the stairs and put him in his crib. He wasn't fully asleep yet, but he still lay down. I pulled the blankets over him and the bottle dropped from his hands as he passed out. I smiled down at him and stroked his pale cheeks. I tip-toed over to the door and turned off the light. I closed the door behind me and walked back down stairs. I started on the dishes and when I got half way done, my father came out with his plate.

"Get to bed when you're done. You have school tomorrow," he said. I didn't need to be reminded. I realized I didn't answer back and before I could, he gripped the back of my hair and pulled my head back. "Do you understand?" he asked, putting a tight grip on my hair.

I winced and cried out. "Yes!" I said quickly. It felt like he was about to rip my hair out. "Go straight to bed after."

"Good," he said. He let go of my hair and went back into the dining room. He then went over to my mother. I tried to ignore their argument. They argue a lot. This time it was because my dad wanted to go upstairs and have sex, but she didn't want to. They were starting to yell and I just wanted them to lower their voices so Tyler didn't wake up. In my worrying I didn't realize I was holding the knife in my hand too tight until I felt a sharp pain in my hand.

I dropped the knife from my hand and mouthed a curse word. The blade didn't cut me too badly. It just stung really badly. I put my hand under the cold water and hissed when the stinging worsened. I heard my dad's footsteps walk back into the kitchen and he pulled me away from the sink and onto the floor.

"Do you want me to do it to her?!" he yelled to my mom and I looked at my mom pleadingly. Please, please, please. I knew what he meant by that. That's how he'd always get sex from her. If she didn't give it up, he'd take me. He never raped me, but he would threaten her by saying he would, and really, I believe he would do that to me. I mean, his own daughter, his own blood. He has a cold soul.

It's the only thing my mom does for me. Save me from being raped. She got up from the chair and glared at him before going over to the steps and unbuttoning her shirt.

He smiled in victory and undid his belt, "Finish and go to bed," he ordered before walking out of the kitchen. I threw my mom a grateful glance and hurried to finish my chores.

*

I took a brush and brushed all my hair to one side. Most of my bruises were on the right side. I dug around for a ponytail in the drawer of the bathroom with hair stuff in it. When I found one, I quickly braided my hair. Once my hair was braided, I took a few bobby pins and pinned the few strands falling out of the braid. I stepped back from my mirror and looked at myself. I had washed out jeans on that were getting a little tight (I'd had them for two years now, though) and a white button long sleeve shirt I was wearing was slightly baggy. I just ended up tucking it in my jeans.

I pushed my bangs behind my ear and sighed heavily. The gross black eye my dad gave me two days ago was covered by makeup. The bruises on my arms and legs were also covered. The few visible bruises I had could have easily happened by falling.

Deciding this was as good as it was going to get, I put on my sneakers and grabbed my three-year-old gray jacket. I turned around and grabbed my book bag off the floor and made my way downstairs. Since my dad wasn't a breakfast person, I never had to make breakfast. It was my only break.

I walked into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools in front of the island. I heard the door to my parents' room open and I quickly put my hands in front of me and sat up straight. I heard his heavy footsteps walk down the steps and my dad came into view since the steps lead to the kitchen first. He looked tired and grumpy—like always. He was never in a good mood.

"Ready?" he asked, grabbing his car keys. He drives me to school. Now, you might think that's such a nice fatherly thing to do, but it's only because it's one less place I could try and make friends. He doesn't want me to interact with other people. He doesn't trust me to keep my mouth shut. So he drives me to and from school. Walking home with friends was to 'distracting'.

I nodded and hopped off the stool. We walked out of the house and got in the car. I buckled myself in and looked out my window as he started the car. I kept my hands on my lap and stayed quiet.

*

"You think you're going to like it here, Abigail?" he asked.

I just shrugged. I never like any of my schools. I hated school. It was a waste of time. What would I go to school for? I won't go anywhere after. I'll just continue to live with my parents.

"Your sixteenth birthday is coming up. What do you want?" he asked and I just shrugged again.

I never expect anything. He always asks me this question and every time I say what I want, I never get it. I continued to stare out the window, but he suddenly pulled the car over and I straightened up in my seat, scared. I saw his hand reach out and before I could move my chin away, he grabbed it and turned my head, making me look at him. I winced when he pressed his thumb roughly on my chin and I looked at him with wide eyes.

"You'll answer me when I ask a question, not ignore what I'm saying and zone out," he said, his voice low and hard.

"I'm sorry, daddy." I said. "You're right, I was being disrespectful. I would like a new outfit." I swallowed hoping that was a good answer.

He looked at me then nodded.

"Okay, we can make that happen," he said, letting go of my chin. Then we pulled up to the school. He leaned over and kissed my forehead and then told me to get out. I got out as quick as I could and watched him drive around to park. I got off lucky there. He got out of the car and came up to me. I sighed heavily and made my way to the school's office with his hand on my shoulder.

Scott

I ran into my kitchen and jumped on top of the island, and yelled, "BOO!" My mom dropped whatever was in her hands and quickly turned around.

"Scott Russo!" she cried my name and hit me on the head.

I chuckled, "Jeez, mom, relax. I thought you saw me coming."

She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips at me. "How could I? How can I ever tell when any of you boys are coming?" she asked when my three older brothers came through making their way to the table in the dining room. "You all are so very sneaky."

"Why thank you," I smirked, grabbing my headphones off the counter and placing them on top of my head. I got off the island and blasted my music up. I walked over to the stove and grabbed a piece of bacon from the pan and she hit the back of my head again. I laughed and ran out of the kitchen eating the bacon mockingly while my mom glared at me.

I turned and went into the dining room where my brothers were now sitting at the table. The oldest, Skylar, is eighteen. The twins, Tristan and Shay, were both seventeen. I was sixteen. The youngest boy was Jamie and he was thirteen. And there's only one other girl in the house and that is Lena, who's eleven. My brothers and I are all very protective of her. Big family, huh? They were all texting and I didn't have to guess who they were talking to. I felt like the black sheep again and out of place.

They all have their mates and who do I have? No one. I sighed and sat down across from Skylar, finishing off my bacon. I tapped my fingers against the table as I waited for my mom to bring the grub. After a minute or two my mom came out with my breakfast. I thanked her and ate my pancakes and bacon absently while sulking. After we all finished our breakfast, we kissed our mom goodbye on the cheek and made our way to Skylar's jeep. After he unlocked it, we all piled in.

I listened to my music on the ride to school and joined my brother as they talked about football and the game coming up in two weeks. We all played football but Shay; he does basketball. Skylar of course is the quarterback. Tristan would take the honor next year, and then I will when I get to my senior year. You may think we're a typical family, but we're not.

See, my family is different. We're not like most. Want to know why? We're werewolves. The whole family is except our mates (my mom is my dad's mate). The legend goes back to the seventeen hundreds during the Salem witch trials. Let's just say one of the witches got really pissed off and turned the whole Russo family into giant wolves. So every child born into the family will become a werewolf. It's not that bad actually.

There is one side effect to it, though. We're joined together with humans for mating. Like normal wolves do. It's who we're supposed to be with the rest of our life. We're supposed to protect them and have cubs. Crazy, right? The thought of not having that someone yet when everyone else did pained me. Why don't I have her yet? I can't look at other girls and be interested in them like normal guys. That was another thing; I can't feel for other girls. Sure, I think girls are beautiful, but it's never enough to want to be with them.

That's why I want mine so bad. I want what belongs to me. I don't like the thought of her out there with some other guy and the chance that I might never find her. I want her. I need her.

My brothers noticed me getting quiet so Shay pushed me, "Hey, wake up. You need to focus and stop acting like a little girl daydreaming about prince charming." I glared at him and I punched his arm roughly. He hit me back and we started wrestling in the back.

"Hey, stop it you two!" Skylar yelled. "I don't need to be pulled over by the cops right now or get in an accident! Haley will kill me if I ruin the ride that takes her home and she has to start riding the bus."

We all snorted and punched him for being a pansy. He breathed out of his nose in annoyance, heavily like a real wolf. Out of all three of us, he's the one that is most in-tuned to his mate. Don't get me wrong, Haley's awesome, but she can be kind of—a nag.

*

We finally got to school and after Skylar parked we all got out. You can say I have a big ego, but we were the most popular boys in school. Everyone loved us. As if on cue our friends came up to the jeep and chatted all at once to us. My brothers quickly grabbed their girls and kissed them. I shot them looks of envy. I leaned against the jeep and joked around with my friends. Girls flirted with me and I flirted back. I'm a flirt, I'll admit, but no player.

I was laughing at a joke Reese said when a scent hit my nose. I stood up straighter and inhaled deeply. It smelt like the woods—fresh and with a splash of strawberries. I couldn't help but close my eyes and inhale it deeply. God, it was beautiful and intoxicating. It was so good that I could feel my brown eyes darken to a shade that was almost black—they only do that before I turn.

And then the world suddenly faded into the background. I opened my eyes and I sniffed around trying to find where the scent was coming from. I pushed aside my friend Will and looked across the parking lot to see a girl walking towards the school with a man, probably her dad, next to her.

She had light brown hair that was in a braid, hanging over her right shoulder, and her skin was pale. She looked around five-six or five-seven. She turned her head slightly and I saw her eyes were a beautiful forest green. I felt the urge to follow her. I felt like she belonged right in my arms.

Mate, the word whispered in my head and the wolf within me howled in excitement. I started to walk forward to her until the twins grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I growled at them and they shook their heads. I growled again, really confused why they stopped me.

"Mine", came out of my mouth for some reason. It took them a second and then they got it.

They chuckled, "Dude, she's new. Give her moment before you stalk her." Shay said and Tristan agreed.

"Yeah and her dad looks strict. You do not want to mess with a strict daddy," Tristan added, jerking his head toward Colleen, his mate, whose daddy hates him.

"She looks like she would be in your grade anyway; you'll see her again later on today."

"I don't want to wait, though," I growled out.

Skylar chuckled and came in front of me. "Now you know how we feel. My little brother, finally a man," he said, ruffling my hair. I smacked his hand away.

"Don't treat me like Jamie," I said. I looked back at the entrance to see her go in and I groaned. I knew what they were saying was true. I should let her get used to Kings High. But damn, why did it feel like it's been hours already?

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