The Dark Rose

Chapter 1

The beginning is never how you expect it. You expect that the day was normal, sunny and everyone is running around singing and laughing. The hero's are having fun, while the villian's are plotting. Right?

Well mine starts as a little of both.
Everything was normal. My mom was in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. Which was an indication that something was wrong because mom never cooks, unless it's stress cooking.

Damien was on his phone, trying to make it seem as if his very nonchalant but failing miserable. He keeps looking around. And after like 10 seconds I realize that his looking at all points of entry. The doors, windows, damn even the ventilators.

And dad's nowhere to be seen.

This wasn't always our normal, but the last month this is how they've been acting. As if expecting me to think that nothing is happening, but I know that it is and I know that it's big. I just don't know why they would hide it from me. I'm not fragile by any means.

"Oh, good morning honey" mom says when she finally noticed that I was here. As if she didn't expect it. This seemed to snap Damien out of his trance as well.

"Well it was about time you stood up. I was starting to think that you died in a bathtub up there" he says, nonethewiser that I was sitting for the past 10 mins, observing them.

I just looked at them for a while longer, seeing right past the fake smiles they put up but decided to play along anyway.

"Ha ha Big bro. We both know that if there were one of us that didn't know how a bathtub worked, it would be you" I joke with the biggest smile on my face.

Mom and Damien both laughed, remembering the time that he actually almost drowned in the bathtub. Dad had to come and get him out.

"Hey, our baths are basically a pool and I got a cramp. It's not my fault." He tried to redeem himself but quick eye contact between mom and me and we both knew we weren't going to let him off that easily.

We both raised our hands and started failing around screaming as if we were drowning.

We only lasted for about 5 seconds before we broke down laughing. Mom had practically forgotten that she was cooking, Damien's phone's forgotten on the counter top and me? Well I was practically glowing at the fact that I got a genuine smile out of them.

The clack, clack of shoes sobered us up. Since none of us has a clone we can only assume it's one person. The only other person in this house. Dad.

I turned and looked at him slack jawed as he entered the room. It was so silent that you could hear the footsteps of ants in there.

My dad does not look his age at all. He's toned and muscular. He's tall. Really tall. I think he's about 6 foot 7. Accompanied by grey eyes and black hair, he intimidates most of the human race. He has a sharp jawline and some scruff around it as a result of not shaving.

If I had to give my dad a job, I would suggest a military job or a mob boss but ultimately my dad chose to become a lawyer.
A lawyer.

"Well good morning family. How are you all doing this morning" he says in a bland tone that does not fit his looks.

Mom is the first to recover. "Oh good morning honey. I didn't know you would be joining us for breakfast. Just give me a moment to fix a plate for you" she replied. He just looked at her and gave her a nod, as if they were communicating without words. And I immediately knew they were talking over our family link. A magical attribute that the witches granted us years ago as a gift for our help in a war against the vampires. It's very cool when you're in battle and don't have time to talk, not very cool when you're parents use it to gossip with you in the room.

My mom is the opposite of my dad. She had soft blonde hair with bright green and standing at a whooping 5 foot 5. I know, that coupled with the fact that she's very petite means that she would probably be a housewife or a teacher, maybe a nurse or a model. Right? Well the universe must've messed up, because she's a lawyer. Yep, right next to dad. They own their own firm.

"Damien, how are you feeling from last night?" Dad asks him, giving him his full attention. Yet to acknowledge me.

Damien went out last night with his friends and got completely wasted to the point where he got into a fight. Now my brother is a lot of things, but patient is not one of them. In fact he's hotheaded, just like dad. Willing to pick a fight anywhere with anyone. The good thing is that he always wins.

Damien lets out a chuckle "I'm good as new dad, no need to worry" he replies. Dad nods again towards him. Before turning his attention to me. From my position, I could see both of them from the same angle and the similarities are uncanny.

Damien is a perfect masculine combination of my parents. He has dad's stature, mom's eyes and dad's hair. Damien's definitely a looker. He stands at 6 foot 5 with pitch black hair and green eyes and a sharp jawline. He also has scruff, the difference between his and dad's is that dad's is work and stress related and Damien's, well he thinks it makes him look more handsome. Cue barf face.

I know my turn is next but I'm still not prepared. "Rose" he says my name as if it's a sigh of relief that I'm still sitting there. Which doesn't make any sense. "Yes Dad" I reply and he winces as if it hurts him. Which again I don't understand.

"H-how are you?" He asks me with his eyes closed. I look at him questions running through my head but instead I reply with "I'm okay Dad. How have you been? We haven't seen you in a while" I was hopeful of finally getting answers.

His mouth opened to speak but once he opened his eyes and looked at me. He suddenly faulted. With a sigh he got up looked at mom and said "I'll be in my study, bring my breakfast there please"

Mom looked at him with a pleading look but nodded. He sighed once more gave me one more glance and walked out of the room. And in that moment I realized I was the problem. And what a problem it was.

You see I knew something was wrong with me , I look nothing like my parents. I have white hair with blue eyes. I know, where the fuck did I come from and was I adopted?

Well to answer those questions, no I was not adopted. They are my biological parents and as for my startling appearance, my parents say that they come from my Dad's bloodline.

He said he must've had some unique blood in order for me to get my hair and eyes because my mom gave me my attitude and size.

As if. My mom is a sweetheart and a loveable person in everything she does, I'm basically a social pariah with trust issues. Complete opposites.

There's the other thing that made their story about our ancestors, our Goddess, you see we are werewolves. I know, I know, if we were werewolves we would be living in a pack somewhere in the woods and eating wild animals that we hunt and run and howl at the moon being forced to shift every full moon.

Well most of those are rumors but regardless, we don't live like other wolves. We are what they would call lone wolves, what hunters called rogue wolves. What we call familial wolves, which are wolves that make their own lives in the city, depending on family and friends to keep them sane.

We have lived our entire lives how we are now. Playing the ambassadors of some sort. We make sure that wolves go unnoticed and that humans live mostly in ignorance. Only a few families are strong enough to live off of the bonds their families provide. Mine is one of them.

My parents tell me that this was our destiny, that this is what the Goddess deemed us worthy of. To be the bridge between supernaturals and humans. A place that only those who loved both could understand...

I didn't understand yet