Only Broken

The Truth in the Silence

Claire's POV

I don't know hold long we stay like that-in each other's arms. But I don't stop crying until the well suddenly becomes dry.

I slowly back away from Liam sniffing and hiding my face when he hands me a handkerchief.

I look up and smile at him before taking it from him. "Thank you." I then turn my face to the other side so he sees only my back.

Gosh I can't believe I just cried in front of the guy I'm crushing on. But he was right though. It felt good to let the tears out and I didn't know how much I had held in until I did.

"Feeling better?" I hear his voice closer to me and I turn around only to bump into him.

"Sorry." He says moving back with a shy smile on his face that makes my heart melt.

Gosh those eyes.

An awkward silence settles between us as we hold each other's gaze until...

"There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere." Christopher enters the room eyes on Liam until he sees me in the picture.

His face immediately changes to that of concern as I watch him.

"Hi Claire....I'm sorry for you loss. I can only imagine-"

“What are you two doing here again?” I cut him off sharply. Their eyes widen at my sudden switch from vulnerable to suspicious.

From crying to activating detective mode.

“How did you get in?” I press, arms folded. They exchange nervous glances.

Honestly, this is a welcome distraction from going back into that room or hearing more empty condolences.

“Don’t you have 18-year-old stuff to do? Why are you at a funeral you probably weren’t even invited to?” I ask again, and this time, Liam chuckles softly.

“You think we’re eighteen?” he says, amused.

And instantly—I feel dumb.

“Aren’t you?” I ask, lowering my arms.

“I’m only a few months older than you.” Christopher says, grinning. “Liam and James are a year older. But I get the confusion. It’s the werewolf genes.”

I frown.

How come I didn't go that way?

Hold on!

Am I finally accepting this? No. I can’t be. I can’t actually believe werewolves are real—and that I’m one of them.

Gosh no! I've joined the crazy club.

“And the food we eat helps, too. The pack’s meals are designed for optimal werewolf growth,” Chris adds casually.

I shake my head and narrow my eyes. “You still didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

"Dad-" Christopher is cut off by his father entering the room.

“We came to offer our condolences,” he says, walking toward me with calm confidence. “And to tell you my offer still stands.”

He stops just in front of me, and I can’t ignore the look in his eyes—pure concern. Genuine.

“Our doors are open, Claire. Please, let us help you.”

I glance at all three of them before settling on Liam.

He just helped me silence the noise in my head. Somehow, this all feels too real.

Either the supernatural world is real… or I’ve officially lost my mind.

"But what would happen to me if I said no." I ask wanting to know what's at stake here.

"Claire-" Peter hesitates but I shake my head for him to tell me the truth.

He sighs. “Boys, could you give us a moment?”

They nod and head for the door. Liam is the last to leave, glancing back at me once before stepping out.

Peter turns to me. “Werewolves are similar to wolves in many ways.

And just like wolves we too depend on a pack." I crease my forehead.

"A pack?....Like a family of wolves."

He nods. “A wolf can’t survive without its pack. Same with werewolves. If you choose to walk away from it… you become a rogue.”

My brows furrow. “What’s a rogue?”

“A werewolf without a pack,” he replies simply.

"And what's so bad about them?"

“Rogues lose their sanity… their minds. Their instincts take over, and they become violent just to survive.” He pauses, then adds, “Like the brown rogue that attacked you in the woods.”

I swallow, remembering that terrifying moment.

"The pack gives werewolves sanity and balance, and without it we don't know what might happen to you."

"So you're not sure?" I ask and without hesitation Peter answers.

“You were raised by humans, and your wolf is dormant for now. It could stay that way. Or it might not. But trust me—this is not the path you want to walk alone.”

His voice is soft, but there’s a warning laced within it. A heaviness that makes me exhale slowly.

What the hell did I get myself into? And how the hell did I end up here?

"Come live with us Claire. There are empty rooms in the pack house, you'll fit right in." He says in an almost pleading tone with a pleading look in his eyes.

Why does this seem so important to him? Why do I seem so important?

I quickly shake my head and walk past him to the door.

"No. I can't do that...and even if I wanted to I'm not legal to just choose who and where I want to live."

His face immediately drops.

“I’m sorry,” I add quietly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my parents to bury.”

I leave him standing there and walk out.

****

After the funeral, the lawyer gathers the family to read the will.

I’m not surprised when he announces that my parents left everything to me—every penny, every estate. They clearly knew the kind of people surrounding them.

Some relatives were livid, muttering things like I wouldn’t know how to manage such wealth. Well, it’s not my fault their “blood relatives” chose their adopted daughter over them.

Eventually, everyone clears out. Everyone except Aunt Matilda and her daughters.

I hate that they’re still here. After what I overheard earlier, I can’t help but think she’s just like them—fake smiles and silent daggers.

But I have no choice. She’s my guardian now. At least until I turn eighteen.

Back in my room, I hold the brown envelope the lawyer gave me in private after everyone left.

He said Mom instructed him to give it to me only if something happened to them.

I stare at the handwriting. “Samantha Claire Williams.”

Yeah—Claire’s my middle name. My parents were fans of the two-name thing.

I open the envelope and find a few documents and a flash drive.

The documents are my adoption papers… and DNA results?

My pulse quickens.

I grab the flash drive and rush to my computer, heart pounding.

What am I about to find?