17 years old,
Seems like an insignificant age to many, but to werewolves, it is the most important age in their lives.
Leianne Reinne is a highschool student; hot boyfriend, male and female best friend and supportive brother. On the horizon of her...
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"Bro, go to sleep!" Jeremiah grunts, rubbing his eyes to focus on me.
"I can't, I'm waiting for news from the hunters or Jasper." I retort, and Blake rolls his eyes.
They sit on the edge of their bed, peering at me with indescribable expressions. I squint my eyes in confusion, attempting to decipher their emotions. They suddenly pounce onto me, pressing me into the mattress. I growl loudly in warning, but they do not wane or flinch.
"Fine, you idiots, I will sleep later!" I shout.
They nod at each other and climb off me. I groan and try to regain my breath.
"I hate you," I mutter, tossing a pillow at their heads before they can react.
We get dressed, then head to the office. The twins make a detour to the kitchen for breakfast, promising to bring me some.
I enter the quaint office, the door swooshing to a close behind me. I drag the chair back and sit on it, gripping the handles as a distraction. I listen closely to approaching footsteps before opening the top drawer, grabbing the white envelope from within it.
I slide the letter opener along the seam of the envelope, removing the well-folded paper from inside it. I flip it open, scanning the words written on it. It reads,
Leonard,
You wrote to me saying "I should've never trusted a rogue." I'm not sure what you meant by that statement but if it was a threat, you better stay away from my family.
I have agreed for my son to marry your daughter, you said that was your only wish. I've given in to everything you've ever wanted since you protected me from that attack.
However, you must remember dear friend, I am the Alpha.
Sincerely, Theodore.
I reread the letter twice, my bewilderment not teetering. The door opens and I grip the letter tight, unbothered by the new presence in the room. I eye the twins as they sit down, both sparing puzzled glances at one another. Blake gently places a sandwich in front of me, but my interests are far beyond nourishment at that moment. An uneasy tension fills the room, none of us daring to speak.
"What's that?" Jeremiah speaks up through the silence.
"A letter," I murmur, the twins' eyebrows simultaneously furrow.
"Who is it from or addressed to?" asks Blake.
"Dad wrote it to Leonard." I hand it over to Jeremiah. He and Blake read the letter together, their eyes widening in surprise as they do.
