Free Werewolf Sings the Blues by Jennifer Harlow Page B

there were tensions between the wolves and vampires, he made her death seem like a retribution vampire attack. Then he murdered another wolf for good measure. When the pack was given definitive proof of his actions, they broke into my house looking for him, your father included. They found me in the closet, clutching a butcher knife.”
    â€œWhat’d you do?”
    â€œThey’d invaded my territory. I stabbed R.J., slashed at John. They still bring it up. Still haven’t forgiven me. Your father was the one who grabbed me as I thrashed around. I bit him, scratched him, cut him, but he just hugged me and whispered it’d all be okay until I ran out of energy.”
    Nice of him. “What happened to your father?”
    â€œIn the spirit of their newfound cooperation, Peter informed the pack where he was hiding. Abigail’s father executed him.”
    â€œI’m … sorry?” Not sure of the appropriate response here.
    â€œDon’t be. If ever someone needed putting down, it was Ivan. I’m just sorry I wasn’t the one to do it,” Jason says, cold as the Arctic.
    He stares out the window again, deep in thought. I give him a few seconds of reflection before asking, “So, what happened next? The pack invited you in with open arms?”
    He all but jerks at the sound of my voice. I think he forgot I was here. “What? No. Not exactly. I was wild. Assaulted anyone who got close. I wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t put on the clothes they gave me. Wouldn’t speak. I was afraid to go outside. I thought they were going to kill me. Most gave up even trying, except Maureen Blue, her son Adam, and Dad.”
    Huh? “Wait. Dad ?”
    Jason glances at me again, I think a little guilty if I’m reading his eyes right, but quickly looks away again. “The others didn’t want me there. Sins of the father and all. A constant reminder of Ivan. I’ve never blamed them for that.” He pauses. “But Dad saw something in me. Maybe he wanted to atone for leaving you, I don’t know. He convinced Bobby not to ship me off to another pack or foster care. He later told me the moment he looked into my eyes when he was holding me that night, he knew I was to be his in all but blood. Just knew, as if God whispered it to him. We werewolves take those instincts seriously,” Jason says with another uncom fortable glance my way. “Dad took things slow, just being in the same room as me so I’d get used to his presence. Then talking, bringing me toys, sometimes he’d even bring Matt so I’d get used to him too. It was about a month before I’d let Dad within a foot of me, and another two weeks before I said a word to him. Almost two months to the day I met him, I moved in with him, Jenny, and Matt . They adopted me. Raised me. As I said, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Frank Dahl.”
    I stare at him slack jawed. “So … you’re my brother?”
    â€œAdopted. I guess. Yes.”
    Okay, brain overload. I don’t know how to feel about this information. I mean, I’m more than glad Jason was rescued from that life. No one deserves a father like that. I’m sure as hell shocked he’s turned out as well as he did. It explains a lot too. The social awkwardness. Not wanting to talk about himself. Not to mention I’m hella embarrassed I’m lusting after a relative, but it’s not as if he’s blood, or even that we were raised together. Still. A little fucked up. But, if I’m honest with myself, what’s bubbling most to the surface is … rage. Pure goddamn rage, hot and powerful enough to fuel a power plant.
    And resent. Really fucking resentful. Beside me is my replacement. All the love I should have received went to him. He’s the one who got the bedtime stories. The scoldings for bad grades. The chicken soup for flus. The passing of wisdom. The building of confidence only supplied by