Page 57 of Cosmic Power

“Uh-wha-huh?”

He glared at her. “Did I fucking stutter, or are you just an idiot? Brother. You know what that word means, don’t you? Or are you as stupid as you look?”

She regained her composure and growled low in her throat. Her werewolf pushed against her skin, enraged by his disrespect, and surfaced for the briefest moment, glaring hard at him through Zamorra’s eyes. A wave of Alpha energy shot out of her and hit him head on.

His legs buckled and he dropped to his knees with a thud at her feet.

She didn’t like releasing her dominant side like that, forcing other shifters to essentially bow to her, but he was being a real fucking ass and she felt like putting him in his place.

His eyes bored into her with unimaginable fury, his body shaking with effort as he tried to rise to his feet.

“Who looks stupid now, brother?” she said with a snobbish as fuck attitude. A part of her realised she was probably making him hate her even more than he already did, but she didn’t care.

“Release me,” he snarled, silver fur sprouting over his skin. His werewolf was chomping at the bit to get a bite of her.

“Ask nicely,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“Now, that’s not very nice. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”

“I wouldn’t know, she abandoned me and left when I was a baby because she was pregnant with you,” he sneered.

Zamorra stepped back in shock, dropping her hold on him instantly. It was like she’d been slapped in the face. “You’re lying,” she breathed, watching as he got to his feet. “My mother would never abandon her child.”

“Oh, yes she fucking would. She ditched two of her sons to run off with her mate’s brother. And I fucking hate her for it.” There was so much repressed anger dripping from his voice that it made her shiver.

“T-two? I have another brother?”

With a grunt, he turned and gave her his back, walking out the open door. “You can either come with me or stay locked in this room. I don’t fucking care.”

* * *

Zamorra trailedbehind her brother in silence. Usually she would have said something to fill the awkward silence, but she didn’t know what to say. Ever since she woke up in this godforsaken place, she’d been dealt blow after blow of emotional torture. First, discovering her father wasn’t actually her father. That instead, it was the man who had hunted her all her life. Then, finding out she had not one, buttwobrothers. And the icing on the cake? That her mother had abandoned them for her.

She wasn’t sure if she believed that last part, though. It didn’t sound like something the woman who raised her would do. Her mother was loving, kind and so involved in her life it bordered on overbearing. Zamorra just couldn’t imagine her abandoning any of her children. No. He had to by lying, trying to get under her skin.

Maybe Barnabas put him up to it.

Zamorra didn’t doubt that they were related, that he was her brother. It was clear by the physical similarities they shared. But that didn’t mean they were full-blooded siblings.

“What’s your name?” she asked as he led her through an endless number of doors and long, winding corridors. She was getting dizzy with all the twisting and turning.

“None of your fucking business,” he gruffed, still not looking back at her.

“Are you always this welcoming, or is it just my presence that brings out this lovely side of you?”

He spun abruptly, making her halt. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t like you. In fact, I fucking hate you. But Father says we need you, so here you fucking are. If it were up to me, you’d be down in the den with the rest of the females getting turned out like the slut you are.”

Zamorra stared in shock. Her throat constricted, her mouth going dry. As much as she hated it, her heart hurt. She had always wished for an older brother growing up. Someone to confide in and protect her. Someone that would always be there for her. She saw the bond siblings shared and she desperately wanted something like that. She wanted it so badly, she used to beg her parents to give her a brother almost daily when she was a child.

Looking at the tall, silver-haired shifter in front of her, his words zinging through her brain, she realised with a dull ache in her chest that he would never be that for her, despite the blood they shared.

He hated her fucking guts. It was evident in the way he looked at her, the way anger and disgust vibrated in the air around him. He wanted nothing to do with her, and that small child inside her that longed for a brother died.

Zamorra cleared her throat and locked down her emotions. Her defence mechanism for shit like this was her snarky, bitchy attitude. She raised her chin in the air and smirked. “It must kill you that I’m more dominant than you, huh? That I’m an Alpha while you’re nothing but a lowly little Beta,” she cackled, deliberately trying to rile him. “Our “father”,” she raised her hands and used air quotes, “loves power, respects it, and the fact that I have more than you is eating you up inside.”

A growl rumbled from his chest and he took a threatening step forward. Sharp, six-inch claws sprung out of his hands, and she cocked her head to the side.

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