"The old man" was our stepdad. The house was dark and quiet. Tyler marched me straight to the study, where a lamp still glowed. Our stepdad looked up from his book.
"We have a major problem," Tyler stated without preamble, pushing me forward. "Leah's in the middle of it. The Black and Windsor boys nearly tore each other apart at school over her. They were shouting 'Fated Mate' and 'Bloodmate.'"
The book slipped from our stepdad's fingers. He looked up slowly, shock stripping the usual calm from his eyes. His gaze darted between us. "Explain. From the beginning."
Tyler laid out the brutal facts. I added my fractured, terrified account in a numb monotone. When we finished, our stepdad leaned back, removed his glasses, and pressed his fingers hard against his closed eyelids.
"Good Lord...
