Page 20 of My Pucking Family

“H-how could you possibly know... wait—are you a werewolf?!” she all but screeches at her favorite professor.

“No, she's not. That's why I came here as quickly as I could. Leera, she's a witch. I smelled your scents on the way to the office, and I could feel the magic.” Turning my head back to Sinclair, I snarl, “What did you do to her?”

She just nods for a moment and clasps her hands together before explaining, “Yes, Roman, I am a witch, but I am not a dark witch, so you and your wolf can calm down.”

Yeah, right.

“The magic you felt in Leera's scent in the hallway was only a cloak. She's had a very hard day with the amount of unwanted attention she's received, so I simply brought her to my office undetected by the others in the hallways.”

This time when Leera's mouth falls open, her whole head tips forward, and she's just looking at Sinclair in shock. “Y-you're a witch?”

Again, Sinclair just smiles and nods.

At first, I was enraged to have a witch around Leera, but there's something about her…I think I trust her. My wolf confirmed she isn't a dark witch. They have a rotten tone to theirscent that only our wolves can detect, unless they're so evil that the smell of rot can be sensed without our wolves confirmation.

As my brain rifles through the information I have about Leera, it hits me like a train. “Her parents were witches.”

It's not a question. I already know the answer, but Leera doesn’t. She's frantically looking between Sinclair and me. When she finally lands on Sinclair, she's gifted another smile and nod.

Answers are overwhelming right now, though, and I can feel her panic and anxiety rising. I mold her body to mine as tight as I can get it while trying to soothe her.

After a moment, she's calmed enough that the anger is winning the war within her body, and she flies off my lap, pointing a sharp pink fingernail at Sinclair. “Why does everyone know so much more about my own life than I do?! You knew, didn't you? You knew I was a wolf? You knew my parents were witches! Why was I left in the dark? To live a lie for my entire life?!”

Her pain is shooting through the room like daggers, and I feel every hit like a physical blow. My wolf tries to push through my skin to protect and comfort her, but I hold him back as best as I can.

She's not in danger. I've got this. She's just feeling a lot right now.

At that, the professor raises both of her hands in front of her to show that she is surrendering, stands from her desk, and walks over to Leera. Tentatively, she takes Leera's hands in her own and kneels in front of her, urging Leera to sit.

“Sweet girl, I didn't know how much you knew. Your parents planned to tell you everything before you came here. I didn't know if they had had the opportunity before you lost them. Unfortunately, I don't have all the answers you seek, but I'llanswer any of them the best I can, and I’ll start by telling you that yes, I knew. Yes, I knew you were a wolf. Yes, I knew they were witches, as am I. You weren't told as a child to protect you. They never even told us from what, so that I cannot share. They demanded that you be kept safe, at all costs.”

Tears slowly trickle down Leera's cheeks.

“Is that why they p-poisoned me my whole life?” she asks quietly.

Sinclair at least has the decency to look ashamed. “We tried to find another way, but it was the only way to keep your wolf from presenting herself. They said no one could know.”

My thoughts continue to tumble around in my brain, trying to piece all of this together.

“If they wouldn't tell anyone what they were protecting her from, how is anyone supposed to know now that they're gone?” I ask, trying not to bark at her in irritation.

“I wish I knew. They said it was to protect all three of our realms, but that's all I know.”

I rear back with the magnitude of those implications. “When you say all three, you mean Zabella, Earth, and Sabbax?”

She nods grimly in response.

“What's Sabbax?” Leera asks quietly.

“Sabbax is the witch’s realm. Like the werewolves have Zabella and humans have Earth. Each paranormal being has their own realm populated with only their kind and their mates. Others can cross and visit and such, but it takes special approval to be accepted within another realm,” I try to explain as clearly as I can.

“So, like when we, I mean humans, try to move to another country?” Her nose scrunches as she tries to piece everything together.

“Yes, Sunshine, much like that.”

“Wait, why is me being safe so important?”

Sinclair and I exchange a glance that says neither of us know how to answer that question.

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