Chapter 1

1409 Words
Callum sneaked back into the house through the living room window. He was covered in sweat and grime. His body trembling from the residue of adrenaline coursing through his lean fourteen-year-old body. The warm air in the house was the complete opposite of the cold air outside, but he barely registered it. His senses were focused on other things. The house was quiet and dark. From the little light coming in through the window, it was easy to make out the room and some of the furniture. Although he knew the room well, so light or not, he could move around without a problem. He also had the advantage of his wolf’s eyes. He crouched down and waited. It was almost one in the morning and he knew his mother would be asleep, but he could not take any chances. His heart was beating hard, his breathing was no better. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled as quietly as possible. When the silence in the house reassured him he hadn’t been caught; he grabbed the shorts he had left by the window on his way out and dressed up. He then took a step away from the window and heard the floorboards creak under his feet. Callum cringed and held still. He needed to move fast and get to his room before his father found him there, but he also could not risk waking his mother in the process. The seconds ticked away as he waited, holding his breath. When he was sure his mother had not heard him. He took another step. He wished he could shift to his wolf. The animal had far better success at moving with stealth and silence, but thought that would take too much time to shift, and his father would catch him before he got away. Callum frowned and tried to walk as quietly as possible. When he reached the base of the stairs, he let out a sigh of relief. He was almost there. Cautiously, he took a sniff of the air to confirm his father was not yet nearby. He had caught his father’s scent in the woods just as he and his friends had finally caught the rabbit. They had been chasing for almost an hour. All three of them had sneaked out of their homes to go for a midnight hunt. The second they had caught the scent of Rocco Stone, Callum’s father and the pack Alpha, they knew they were in deep s**t. Callum chuckled silently at the memory of how fast they had ditched the dead rabbit and sprinted home like bats out of hell. He hoped his friends would manage to sneak back into their beds without getting caught. If any of them got caught, they would all go down. There was no one in the pack who did not know that trouble and mischief came attached to three names: Callum Stone, Mattias Park, and Oscar Dove. It was a guarantee, whatever one was involved in, the others were most definitely part of it. That was one of the major reasons Callum had to reach his room before he got caught so that his two friends would also not get into trouble. Another sniff of the air reassured him his father was not yet at the doorstep of the house. He started up the stairs. He was halfway up when an unexpected scent caught his attention. His wolf within him growled and rose to attention. The scent was not familiar, and it definitely did not belong in their house. Callum knew for a fact that it had not been there when he left the house almost two hours ago. Cautiously, he made his way up the rest of the stairs. He sniffed the air and followed the scent to his parent’s room. The first thing that captured his attention was the closed door. His mother never closed the door when his father was away. It was her way of making sure her son stayed in the house all night, not that it helped. He hesitated a second in the hallway and wondered what he should do. Something inside him told him he would not like what he would find if he opened the door. But his wolf also clawed and raged and pushed him to do so. It was as though it knew there was a problem and he had to face it. Callum was still a young werewolf, but he was fast beginning to learn how to listen to his wolf and trust it. After all, he was alpha by blood and next in line to rule the pack. His wolf was a vital part of him and he had to listen and trust it if he hoped to ever be as great a leader as his father. He took a deep breath and opened the door. The strange scent was in his parent’s room, but another stronger scent hit him right away. Somehow the closed door had blocked it, but now Callum could smell it and he felt dread fill his body. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. He shuddered as though ice had just rolled down his back. It was the smell of blood. His mother’s blood. The smell was strong enough to tell him it was not from a small cut on her finger. Tentatively, he walked further into the dark room. The bed was empty, but he could see his mother’s side had been slept in. He took another step and looked around. In a small voice he called, “Mother?” Only silence greeted him and the sound of his own breathing. His heart rate picked up again, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins almost deafening. Two more steps and he finally saw her. Callum froze. His heart that had been beating too fast just seconds before, just completely stopped. He was suddenly lightheaded, and bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t close his eyes or look away. His feet would not move either. He couldn’t go to her or run out of the room. He stood there and just stared at the horror on the carpeted floor of his parent’s room. It took several seconds before his brain remembered to function and instruct the rest of his body. When it happened, he jerked forward and fell to his knees next to his mother’s bloodied body, and grabbed her head onto his lap. “Mum?” he whispered, even though he knew she would not answer. He was only fourteen years old, but he knew what death looked like, what it smelled like and what it felt like. His mother’s body was heavy and cold. He could not hear her heart beating or the air leave her lungs as she breathed. Tears rolled down his face as he failed to contain the pain that pierced his chest. He knew he had to call for help, but he could not get himself to leave her. He tried to howl, but his throat was too tight. It felt like something hard and heavy had lodged in his throat. He was shaking and crying without even realizing it. He did not know what to do. Then he thought of his father and remembered the man was on his way home. Callum took a deep breath and reached out to his father through the pack link. He did not have the strength to do much. Pack link would allow his father to feel his emotions if they connected, but Callum did something else, something rarely done. He spoke words into the link. “Dad, it’s mum.” He hoped it would be enough to bring his father home immediately. Callum was not sure exactly how long he sat there with his mother in his arms. He heard a sound at the door of the room and looked up to find his father standing there sweating and shaking in only a pair of sweatpants. He was in his human form, but his eyes were his wolf’s. They stared at each other in silence and for the first time in his life, Callum saw his father sway and land on his knees as though all his strength had just been sucked out of him. When Rocco reached out and took his mate’s dead body, Callum sat back and closed his eyes and cried for the loss of his mother.
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