The first man she had killed just so happened to be a shifter himself. She took her pleasure in killing him, because she knew deep down he had been the one that r***d her first. She had been able to smell him on her mother afterwards for days. His scent had been strong. I never did ask if she knew what breed he was.
When my mother had been done and returned home, she found her mother dead in their barn out back. She had taken her own life by stabbing herself in the heart. My mother buried her mother, packed her clothes, and saddled her own horse. She never went back home. It had been a hundred years after that before she met her mate, my father.
I knew mom was hunting. She was up in the mountains as we speak torturing Shawn by keeping him scared out of his mind. I almost had to smile to
