“How do I even know if what you are telling me is true? You could have made this whole thing up. I don’t know anything about werewolves. Not one thing. You could say all werewolves sleep in blue sheets, and I’d have to go home and do that because I know nothing. And this whole bit about me being a wolf before? I’m not buying it. I was a human until she,”—Betsy pointed at Lake— “did this to me.”
“No.” Lake gasped. “I could never make you a werewolf if you weren’t one. You had a blockage, something keeping you from being what you should be. I removed it, and you shifted.”
“Betsy.” Cyrus pulled her against him. “Do you remember how you told me that sometimes you had urges, things you couldn’t control?”
“You would bring that up.” She struggled against him. If he kept her like that for too long, she wouldn’t be able to stifle her need for him. Just like he’d told her. Female werewolves had to be taken care of when they were in heat. Like dogs.
“Only to tell you that there has always been a reason, and now you have to believe. There is no reason to berate yourself.”
She had no response to that. He wasn’t wrong. If this had always been inside of her, then at least it explained some things, like her need for sex and her propensity to crave raw, red meat.
A door slammed open, and a shriek filled the room as Jensen and Mitchell dragged Nathan through the door. He was bleeding from the head, and his left eye had swollen shut. They carried him, but it looked like one of his ankles was twisted in an unnatural way. She winced. That had to hurt.
Cyrus poked her nose. “When the feeling of satisfaction hits you, embrace the sensation. You’re a werewolf. We attack and beat our enemies.”
What? She didn’t get a chance to answer, because Cyrus released her and walked toward the new arrivals. As Cyrus moved away, Nathan noticed her.
“You.” He hissed. “You’re responsible for this, aren’t you? You’re the reason these creatures grabbed me off the street and invaded my home. After everything I did for you. See if I save your parents now, you slut.”
Cyrus growled and with a swiping gesture too fast to be perceived, he clawed Nathan’s face. An agonized howl left Nathan’s mouth, and five red claw marks appeared on his face.
Lake laughed, a high-pitched snicker. “Don’t insult the Alpha’s mate, you stupid human.”
The Healer’s words made Betsy gasp. Was that what Cyrus meant by embracing the destruction? Lake seemed joyful. But Betsy couldn’t join her in her revelry. Maybe, if so much weren’t at stake, she’d love the way the red marks on Nathan’s face reflected Cyrus’ rage. But Nathan had a point. He’d never call now. Her parents were doomed. A pulse of temper thundered in her forehead before she gritted her teeth. She hadn’t really let herself get mad at them. There hadn’t been time, but now, since it was all going to be over, she wanted to throw something at them. They must have known what they were doing was wrong on all possible levels. They hadn’t been the ones to give up their lives to save her. They hadn’t even tried to protect her and had been publicly ashamed when her sexual issues had come out.
And they had to know something about this wolf business. They couldn’t have raised her and not known? Could they? Not to mention her sister. If her twin lived, as Cyrus said she did, then they’d outright lied to her. She growled and covered her mouth.
Cyrus turned around and looked at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but it didn’t matter what he thought. She had suddenly become the most disloyal daughter on the planet. After everything they’d done, everything they’d put up with…
…and all the lies they told me… The disloyal side of her soul didn’t budge on that issue.
But shouldn’t they have known that her needs were normal? If one of them was a werewolf, shouldn’t they have helped her to understand?
Heavens, she was conflicted. Her stomach hurt. She really wanted to go lie down, but that wasn’t an option. Whatever she felt, she wouldn’t hang her mom and dad out to dry. Maybe Nathan could be reasoned with.
“Put him in the cage,” Cyrus ordered, and his men—Jensen and Mitchell crossed the room with Nathan.
So much for reasoning.
“Cyrus.” She crossed to him. “I know you said you’d handle this, but I need him to make that call. Please. This isn’t going to get him to do anything.”
“Ssshh.” He held out his hand. “Come.”
Betsy took his outstretched fingers, embracing them with her own. She shouldn’t be so willing to, but she needed his touch and not even in a sexual way. Cyrus could make this all okay. She shook her head. Was this some kind of Alpha thing, her constant need for him to make things right?