BOOK ONE - promised series
When a new family moves to Everett Valley, Catherine vows to find out what they are searching for in her secluded hometown that doesn't normally welcome new people.
Catherine must choose between the council and her pack le...
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The walls of Kendra's home were indigo, the windows large and decorated with beautiful lace curtains behind them. Azure shutters made the house look like it was supposed to be stationed at the seaside. At least, it was what I imagined sea-houses to look like.
I bet they were as beautiful as this one was.
It looked so much more like a home than mine did and—and more importantly—felt like one too.
"Kendra," I called, fully aware of the fact that everyone inside heard me. When the sound of heavy footsteps carried down the wooden stairs, I mentally prepared myself for the next few moments.
As the blue house-door opened and Kendra's dad came into view, his wrinkled face lit up with a genuine smile. Stepping into his outstretched arms, I accepted his warm embrace. His long beard, streaked with grey hair, tickled my throat when it came into contact with my skin.
This was why more preparation would have been helpful—hugs. And there were a lot more to come.
"Nice to see you, Feels," James Denn said, a dorky grin forming on his plump lips as he let go of me. I smiled up at him in return.
"You too, James. Kendra upstairs?"
At his confirmative nod, I excused myself and went to greet the rest of the family in the living room. Cynthia, one of the Denn twins, jumped off of a satin, indigo couch and ran up to me, squeaking.
"Feels, you're here! You're here!" she screeched, wrapping her arms around my neck. I picked her little frame up into my arms.
The famous dark Denn curls bounced into my face while her thin arms almost choked the life out of me.
I looked at Cynthia with wide eyes. "You little beast, how strong did you grow these past few days?"
"Very!" she squealed, squeezing even tighter.
For a few moments I actually struggled to breathe.
My face must have been flaming red when she finally loosened her death grip. Little younglings in transition experienced such a shift in strength and velocity, it couldn't even be compared to the abilities of an elder.
It would weaken after the first shift, but it was always at its highest point shortly before.
Five-to-six-year-olds were more dangerous than a twenty-year-old warrior, the third in command in a pack. The only shifter stronger than transitioning younglings was the leader, our alpha.
"Papa says that Lauren and I will change for the first time by next winter!" Excited and bubbly as she was, her emotions latched onto me quickly.
Lauren peeked out from the corner leading to the kitchen and showed me a row of tiny, chocolate-covered teeth. It looked horrible and I refrained from scrunching up my nose. I nearly let out a snort of laughter, trying hard to keep it in.
