“Hell yeah I am. I’ve never met a human raised by a werewolf.”
“A werewolfanda human,” she reminded him.
“So, you understand the discrimination.”
“To my bones. I grew thick skin about it.”
“Why would it affect you?”
“You don’t think the kids in school had an opinion when they found out my mom was paired up with a werewolf?”
The smile that had been sitting in the corners of his lips faded to nothing, and he dropped his gaze. “I didn’t think about that.”
“My mom was called the werewolf fucker. I was the bastard daughter of a werewolf. I smelled like dog, I was raised in a cave, bla bla bla. For my entire junior year in high school, the girls wouldn’t let me use the restroom at the same time as any of them. They said I was dirty.”
“What changed?”
“My husband.”
He lifted his glowing blue eyes. “You met him in high school?”
She nodded. “He was the jock. Mr. Cool. Everyone respected him. He beat the shit out of three guys that had been bullyingme, and the bullying stopped. He freed me. He was already sick, but none of our friends knew it until he was twenty-one. He was very quiet about what he had to deal with.”
“He told you though?”
She nodded. “I was at all of his appointments, and in the hospital at his side until the end. We married knowing our time was very limited. I love—” Her voice trembled and faded off, and her eyes burned with instant tears. She had to stare out the window for a few seconds and regain her composure. With a hard swallow, she said it as emotionless as she could. “I loved him very much.”
“Fuck,” Dodger murmured, leaning back in his chair.
Destiny forced a smile. “You have the story now. Can we talk about anything else?”
“Of course,” he said, looking troubled.
“Great. What about you? What’s your story? What makes you all broody and moody?”
“Are you wanting me to have some traumatic story?”
Destiny shrugged. “I hope you don’t have one.”
“I’m a werewolf.”
She waited for him to explain, but that seemed to be the only answer he was giving. And she thought about it…thought about what Dad went through, thought about his Changes, and how he had to swallow his pride daily when he was in public. The loneliness that came with being a Rogue werewolf. “I suppose that is traumatic enough.”
He allowed a smile. “It’s not so bad. I had a good Pack growing up, a good family. My wolf was more dominant than my two older brothers, so even though I was the youngest male, I didn’t get picked on from my first Change. I had a solid friend group, I finished high school with a GED, I traveled before I became territory bound. I found a life here, got a job. It’s not the best life, but it could be way worse.”
“Why isn’t it the best?”
“My Packmates are all annoying as hell.”
She snorted. “Do you get along with any of them?”
He got a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I get along with a few of the guys on my work crew.”
“Why don’t you like your Pack?”
He inhaled deeply and watched Byron set their beers in front of them. When he walked away, Dodger said, “I’m not sure if I want to stay here.”
She nodded, understanding. “If you become friends with your Pack, it would make it harder to leave.”
