Che was 5 years old when he realised he wasn't a shifter like his brothers. He was 8 years old the first time he threw up from his nocturnal issues.
He was 19 when he met Nathan.
And he was 23 when they got married.
This novella explores Che's past...
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It was an explosion of sounds, flashes and questions. The police had shown up and were holding the reporters back so we could get into the school. Both boys sat in the hall outside the principal's office and I hated the sight. It looked like they had done something wrong. But it wasn't them. It was me. This was all me.
Nathan crouched down in front of them, flashing a supportive smile. "Come on, nephews. We're going to the mountains."
He rose with them and put his arms around their shoulders. They were about to be taller than him. They were a little taller than him, actually, but he looked protective as fuck as he lead the boys out of the back entrance.
We met up with Aidan outside and a whole bunch of soldiers. Nathan tensed up immediately and stepped in front of the nephews, his pupils slowly turning into slits.
"Nathan, these are men are from the Chilean government. They're here to escort us to a safe-house while things calm down a bit," Aidan hurried to say, slowly walking towards my husband.
Nathan took a deep breath, but he didn't let the twins pass him before Aidan made it over to them, literally acting as a human shield to our nephews.
I took my husband's hand in mine, hoping to ground him again. He immediately squeezed it and looked up at me.
"We don't get separated. Any of us."
I nodded. Last time we had gotten separated my...Ryan, my brother didn't make it out. I wasn't losing anyone again.
"What about Mom?" I asked as we were showed to a minibus.
"They'll pick her up and drive her to the safe-house. We're all to be in the same place. Easier to protect us and stuff," Nat said and took Ryan's arm in her hand, urging him to get a move-on.
Inside the bus we were all greeted by two soldiers.
"Hola, I'm commander Gonzales, I'll be in charge of your safety."
I translated for Nathan. He was okay with conversational Spanish but this was a little high for his vocabulary level.
Gonzales continued to tell us of protocols, safety precautions as we drove out of town, but Nathan was just staring out of the window, cracking his jaw. I was very concerned this could be a breaking point for him. He had come so far... It'd break him if he had a total relapse now.
"Nathan," I murmured quietly.
He looked up at me, meeting my gaze.
"Stay with me."
He leaned against me and nodded, giving my hand another squeeze. I just didn't like how he didn't respond with actual words.
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