Page 53 of Howl For A Kiss
Within minutes, they were strapped with their usual tactical gear—shoulder holsters, hip holsters, and backup weapons secured in ankle and thigh straps. The weight of her weapons felt different now too, Elena realized. More purposeful, like she was finally fighting for the right reasons instead of just fighting against everything.
As they headed toward Cade's truck, Elena felt Damon's hand find hers, their fingers intertwining with natural ease. Through their completed mate bond, she felt his unwavering support and fierce determination to protect both her and Fiona.
For the first time in twelve years, Elena wasn't running toward something unknown. She was walking toward healing, toward truth, toward the possibility of reconciliation with her past—and she had her mate by her side to face it all.
The gravel crunched beneath Cade's truck tires as they finally pulled up the long driveway to Elena's childhood home. Thesmall log cabin sat nestled among towering pines, exactly as she remembered it—weathered but sturdy, with smoke curling from the stone chimney. Elena's chest tightened with a mixture of nostalgia and apprehension.
Twelve years, she thought, her fingers unconsciously finding Damon's hand.Twelve years since I walked away from this place.
Through their completed bond, she felt Damon's steady presence anchoring her, his calm strength flowing into her like a tide of reassurance. His thumb traced gentle circles across her knuckles, the simple gesture more comforting than any words could be.
"I'll keep watch out here," Cade said, parking near the front porch. "Holler if you need anything."
Damon's eyes met Elena's, his expression intense but understanding. "Ready?"
Elena nodded, though her heart hammered wildly. "As ready as I'll ever be."
They climbed the familiar porch steps—Elena in her fitted black sweater and dark jeans, Damon radiating authority in his tactical pants and thermal henley, and Fiona pale but determined beside them. Elena's hand trembled slightly as she knocked softly on the carved wooden door.
Thirty seconds felt like an eternity before the door swung open.
Martin Walsh stood in the doorway, and Elena's breath caught. He looked older—gray threaded through his dark hair and lines etched deeper around his eyes—but those same fierce eyes that both she and Fiona had inherited blazed with unmistakable fire.
His weathered face cycled through shock, disbelief, and overwhelming joy in rapid succession. Elena swore she saw tearsgathering in his eyes as he took in both his daughters standing before him.
"Elena. Fiona." His voice cracked slightly on their names. "My beautiful girls."
"Hello, Dad," Elena managed, her voice thick with raw emotion.
"Come in, come in." He stepped back, ushering them into the small cabin that smelled of pine and woodsmoke. "I can't believe you're here."
Elena gestured to Damon, who stood slightly behind her with protective alertness. "Dad, this is Damon Gray. My mate."
Something passed between the two men as Damon stepped forward, extending his hand with respectful authority. Her father's piercing gaze assessed Damon with a father's protective intensity, but Elena caught the subtle nod of approval that followed.
"Sir," Damon said simply, his handshake firm and direct.
"Any mate of Elena's is welcome in my home," her father replied, and Elena sensed the unspoken understanding that flowed between them—a silent promise of protection and acknowledgment.
He led them to the small living room Elena remembered from her rebellious teenage years, where she and Fiona had caused countless hours of mischief. The same worn leather couch, the same stone fireplace, and the same sense of refuge from the outside world.
"I have to say, I'm surprised to see you both," her father said, settling into his familiar armchair. "Especially together."
Elena drew a steadying breath.No point in beating around the bush."Dad, I found out recently that I don't have a rare medical condition. My wolf finally manifested for the first time several days ago."
Her father's face went carefully blank, but Elena caught the flicker of nervousness in his eyes.
"Damon told me there's no such medical condition," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "He said that timeline means I'm a hybrid. That my mother was human."
The silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Her father's gaze darted briefly toward the window, as if someone might be watching and listening.
"Dad, it's okay," Elena said gently. "I can protect myself now. I need you to tell me the truth."
Her father's shoulders sagged as if a tremendous weight had finally become too much to bear. "Yes," he whispered. "Your mother was human."
The words hit Elena hard, even though she'd known they were coming. Damon's hand found hers immediately, his thumb stroking across her knuckles as emotional support flowed through their bond.
"Why did you lie to me?" Elena's voice broke slightly.
