Ordinary

I'm so Broken

"Mom" both Adam and Serenity spoke at once. I sighed. Standing in the corner of the great room of their pack house. My body was so full of emotions.

Rage.

Confusion.

Frustration.

Anger.

Exhaustion.

Hurt.

Fury.

DeAnne refused to turn. She tried in vain to settle her breathing. She'd lost all her children. To this pack. This fantasy.

Clint came forward, passing between Serenity and Adam. Slowly. Softly if one can move that way.

She could feel his presence, just behind her before he even spoke.

"DeAnne" his rich timbre, crawled down her neck, embedding in her spine. "Can I hold you?" he whispered.

DeAnne frowned. Why would he ask that? Of all things to say to her in this moment. Why that?

But her body of it's own volition, leaned back into the heat she could feel on her back. His arms wrapped around her, pressing her upper back into his chest.

Clint was careful not to link their lower halves. This tenuous boon she'd granted him was too precious to reach to far and mess it up. This was his second victory with her. First she'd said his name, while looking him over. Now, she'd allowed him to comfort her. His wolf howled inside... prancing and preening.

He could feel the moment she withdrew from him, so he released her from the awkward hug and stepped back a bit.

"Can anyone explain to me why I just left my youngest daughter in the deepest woods I've ever seen with a young man that I do not know?"

Draven sighed. "DeAnne. I think you know the answer to that."

"Don't speak to her that way. This is a lot to absorb at once," Clint barked at his son in my defense.

"Everyone just calm down," Serenity said, stepping out of the circle of Draven's arms. "Let's just go to the dining hall, we aren't going to sleep anytime soon. It seems we have need of a long overdo talk."

I follow the motley procession, refusing to let anyone walk beside me or linger to keep pace with me. My last act of defiance. It felt futile all the same.

Once in the dining hall, Serentiy, Adam and Draven proceeded to bring leftovers from the fridge into the room. Excessive, like always. There's way too much food and I have zero appetite. Still Serenity pushes a plate loaded with offerings in front of me... raising an eyebrow. She looks just like me. That's something I've done to them at least a million times.

I scoff, then collapse is laughter. Guffawing loudly.

All eyes watch me, as if I've finally lost the last bit of my sanity. The room is pregnant with the loss of air, everyone afraid to breathe until Adam grumbles. "Great. We've broken my mom."

Now everyone laughs. Their laughter is very different from mine. I wipe my eyes, my chest feeling a little lighter. Then look pointedly at Clint. He seems to be the calmest, most rational one here. Closest to my age, anyway. I wait. Hoping I don't have to beg for an explanation.

He sighs, then gives me a pained smile. "He's her mate."

I nod in resignation.

I look to Adam. "Do you have a mate here as well? And Blake too?" I ask him, a slight frown knitting my brows.

"No Mom. Neither Blake, nor I have found a mate. We just..." he pauses, searching for the right words. Then he looks to Draven, then Clint. His eyes beseeching them to help.

Clint grabs my closest hand, "DeAnne. All of your children are hybrids. How do you not know that they're part shifter?"

I frown now in earnest. "Shifter?" Confused by the terms. "I thought they were only werewolves. What are shifters?"

The table chuckles again, more relaxed now. I wait.

Clint smiles and continues his explanation, squeezing my hand gently. "Shifters is just the modern term for our kind. We are Were. There are other varieties. But Draven inherited a latent Lycan gene...so he's more powerful and his shift is (pause) different (pause) than the rest of us."

"How do you not know that your children are goddess blessed? Each of them has a powerful wolf spirit...but they were never trained. Never taught. How is it that your husband didn't tell you that he is a werewolf?" The subtle growl in the word husband made me squeeze his hand faintly. I blush.

"Roger is many things, but a werewolf isn't one of them," DeAnne corrects. Clint frowns.

"Then how are these your children? They smell subtly like you. Did you cheat on your husband?" Draven asks in confusion. Serenity slaps his chest and whispers, behave. He smirks, grabs her hand and kisses her knuckles. All without the presence to look the least bit repentant about his question.

I frowned in earnest, pulling my hand away from Clint. "These are my children. My body grew each of them!" I say a little too loudly. My breathing has begun to grow shallow again. What is happening to me?

"Mom. Calm down," Adam rises from his seat to sit next to me. Grabbing both my hands in his. "We're just trying to understand how this happened. Why don't we have a pack? Even know about this part of our nature," My oldest son explained, his pressure on my hands reminding me that he's still mine. My baby.

I shake my head, as tears gather. "Is it possible that he's a werewolf and just never told me?"

Things aren't going great for me & Roger at this point in our lives, but a secret of this monumental size... I'm not sure how to fix.

"It's not possible. Roger can't be. I would know." I assert. Then catch several glances between the occupants of the table. Sure, I wasn't aware that my kids were... hybrids, did they call them. But I would know if the man I've been married to for 26 years had kept a secret like this. I would know.

[Sure you would] that internal voice finally pipes up. I hiss back at it, in my mind.

The entire room freezes. The temperature seems to drop several degrees. All eyes land on me in disbelief. Adam leta go of my hands.

"What the f**k was that?!" Draven growls as Serenity's mouth opens and closes several times like a fish. Adams eyes are so large I can see white around the entire pupil. And Clint just smirks.

"You have a wolf," Clint smirks, leaning closer.

"Mom!" both of my kids scream in tandem.

Draven chuckles along with his father. Serenity's eyes fill with tears. I can't tell yet if they're happy or sad ones. Adams' face suffuses with heat, the red spreading steadily.

"What do you mean? I don't have a wolf...you guys are all losing it"

[Uh huh. They're the ones losing it. I told you, you should've been listening to me all along. So stubborn] my wolf chirps smugly.

"There it is again," Draven says with a subtle smile. "Is your wolf talking to you? I can feel when she presents... but I can't hear her. Like she's bound," he says to his father directly.

Clint turns to me, his eyes lit with excitement. "DeAnne, can you hear your wolf? Is she talking to you?" The hope in his eyes is hard to ignore, it swells within me as well.

Contagious.

Dangerous.

I shrug, "I've always had that little voice inside my head. My grandma told me, she's probably the bad angel on my shoulder. So I shouldn't listen to her. But I talk to her sometimes. She's always with me. And she listens:" I finish my explanation, my voice breaking on the last word. Understanding finally taking root. My wolf. She's always been with me. And she listens.

I'm so broken.