His Omega's Keeper

ONE

“So a bunch of us are heading down to Fort Lauderdale over Thanksgiving break. Think you can come?” my best friend, Ashley asked.

“Yeah, we need more people to chip in on the Airbnb,” Madison, my other best friend, put in. “And you can certainly afford it, since your stepfather is Mr. Moneybags, right?”

I looked down at my half-eaten burger and the cold fry I was using to doodle in the congealing ketchup on my plate. I wanted to say “yes.” In the old days, I could have. But it wasn’t the old days now.

“Sorry, guys,” I mumbled, shaking my head, my long, blonde hair swishing around my shoulders. “But I can’t.”

“Why not, Ani?” Ashley furrowed her brow in that cute way that made the guys come running. “Come on—we’re only going to fly down for a couple of days.”

“It’s a family thing,” I hedged. “You know—my mom doesn’t want me to miss Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Madison said brightly. “We’re leaving this Friday night and coming back next Wednesday morning. So nobody has to miss turkey day! C’mon—what do you say?”

I looked at my two best friends and bit my lip. We’d been together since junior high and not even college could break us up. In fact, we all went to James Madison University on purpose, so we could stay together. Our plan had been to all get an apartment together and take all the same classes.

Well, we were in a lot of the same classes. Unfortunately, the living together part had fallen through when my mom had remarried in my senior year of high school. Now I was stuck in a huge white mansion on Songbird Hill, the fanciest neighborhood in Harrisonburg, Virginia.

Madison and Ashley had been understanding about the living arrangements—they were able to find a third roommate easily enough and were getting along fine. But what they didn’t understand was why I couldn’t hang out with them nearly as often as I had before. Why I didn’t come to the parties they invited me to and why I couldn’t just fly off to Fort Lauderdale at a moment’s notice.

They didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain—not in a way that wouldn’t sound completely crazy, anyway.

“Sorry guys,” I mumbled doodling in the ketchup with my cold fry some more. “I just don’t think my mom would like it. She has a bunch of Christmas decorations she wants to hang and I promised I’d be there to help.”

“What? How long can it possibly take to hang Christmas decorations?” Madison exclaimed. “And can’t your hot stepbrother, Jake, help out instead?” She licked her lips. “I wouldn’t mind letting him help me—though not necessarily with decorating.”

Ashley giggled.

“I know, right? I don’t understand how in the world you keep your hands off him, Ani!”

I made a face.

“That’s disgusting, you guys! He’s my brother. And besides, he might be good-looking, but he’s an annoying asshole ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“He’s only your brother by marriage—it’s not like you’re blood related!” Madison pointed out. She frowned at me. “Though you, do have the same freaky eyes. I guess they just look better on Jake because he has black hair and yours is blonde.”

She was right about that. Jake and I—and my mom and his dad for that matter—all had the same, strange-colored eyes. You read about people having “whisky-colored” eyes or “golden” eyes, which is really just a way to say light brown. But my eyes—and the eyes of everyone else in my immediate family—are kind of a pale gold, with no other color at all in them. It looks weird with my white skin and ash blonde hair but pretty spectacular on Jake, with his raven hair and dark good looks.

So how did my mom end up marrying a man with eyes like hers and moving into his huge house while dragging me with her? You wouldn’t believe me if I told you—I know I certainly didn’t believe it.

See, my stepfather, Marcus, claims that he is one of the last of a long ancient line of—wait for it—werewolves. I know, right? It sounds crazy.

Anyway, he told us that after his wife died, he was afraid that he would never remarry because no one could hold a candle to his “darling Belinda.” He was certain that Jake would be the last of his line, which was a shame, because it’s supposedly the “Royal” bloodline and he and Jake can trace their ancestry all the way back to the First Wolf. (More craziness, obviously.)

But when he saw my mom and saw her eyes, he suddenly knew that he could love again. He was certain she was of the Royal line too—though hopefully several generations removed or something. I think they did blood tests and found out they were fifth or sixth cousins or something like that. Which is kind of gross, but not in any way illegal.