Page 17 of Resisted

We continued to drive, the feeling in the pit of my stomach making my head swarm as the intensity grew and the gnawing became more insistent. It was concerning, that was for sure. As the alpha, I was handling it better than my subpack, but just barely. They, on the other hand, could barely keep their shit together. Vince had his head hanging out the window, trying to get air, while Boyce curled himself into a ball.

“Stop at your parents,” Vince mumbled.

“No. We’re twenty minutes away from home,” I pointed out as another wave of discomfort cramped inside of me.

“I can’t make the twenty minutes,” he mumbled.

“What do you fucking mean? You’ve made it the last two hours.” I glanced at him, and yeah, he looked like fucking roadkill. We all did.

“Just fucking pull over,” he growled out.

I didn’t agree with it. I knew we could push farther, but I also didn’t have the energy to fight with him about it. When the turnoff came, I took it and drove the extra mile until I parked in front of my childhood home. Both Boyce and Vince had the doors pushed open before the vehicle was even stopped.

By the time I had the door open and my seatbelt off, both Boyce and Vince were leaning against the front of the car, using it to support their bodies. This was fucking crazy. That food had to be poisoned. There was absolutely no other explanation. None. To weaken men as strong as us, to bring us quiet literally to our knees, was unheard of.

“Are you going to walk or die on the pavement?” I muttered as I passed them.

“Probably die here,” Boyce said with a gasp, always so fucking dramatic. Still, he straightened his body and followed along.

Each step up to the deck was torture. Each breath in seemed to halt and stall, only releasing when pain seared my body. When I hit the top step, I thought I would literally die. I suspected the men behind me felt the same. Another five steps to the front door, five excruciating, impossible steps, but I made it. Behind me, my boys did the same. I turned the knob, thankful it was unlocked, then pushed it open and stepped inside, the tile loud against my boots.

“You can’t be here.” My mother’s voice caught me off guard, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“I think we’ve been poisoned,” I ground out.

“Poisoned?” She paused, her eyes growing wide as she covered her mouth. “Oh no.”

My palm slammed against the wall, holding me stable. “Oh no, what?”

“You can’t be here,” she said, repeating her early statement.

“Why can’t we?” A whimper came from Bella’s room, and my ears perked, the pitiful sound pulling at my soul. “What’s wrong with Bella?”

I took a step, and my mother blocked it. “You need to leave.”

“We are literally dying and you’re kicking us out.” I closed my eyes and breathed in deep.

“You’re not dying,” she sighed before glancing behind her, “but you need to leave.”

“Leave?”

I was her only son, her only natural born child, and she was kicking me out in a time of need. Fucking ridiculous. “Why?”

“Bella has hit her first heat,” she whispered only loud enough so I could hear.

I blinked a few times. “She’s too young for that.”

“She’s eighteen now, Silas. She’s an adult like you and me.”

That was a fact, but that didn’t mean it was easy to accept. To me, she was still the tiny pup, forced to change under my demand, or the sassy kid who gave Vince so much trouble, it was amusing. How had so many years gone by and I’d failed to find her family? How had time passed so quickly?

“We won’t bother her,” I mumbled, though everything inside of me urged me to go and seek her out, to comfort her and help her through the pain. I rejected that urge, of course. It would be unnatural, not right to intrude on her in such a personal time.

“Silas. I don’t think you understand. You aren’t dying,” she whispered, her voice strained as she eyed my subpack so they couldn’t hear her. “You cannot be here.” She punctuated the words. “Any of you.”

I blinked a few times. “We only…” The words and objections dried up before they could fall from my lips. My throat clogged, while my breathing picked up. “How long have you known?”

“It’s not important,” she hissed back before looking at the men behind me, both leaning against the railing of the patio.

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