Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Disclaimer

  The following book, and all its characters, and settings, are the sole property of Isabelle Hemlock. The story and its contents are a work of fiction, and any likeness to any real persons, or places, is unintentional.

  To my own special Avery, my inspiration.

  Table of Contents

  Disclaimer

  Chapter. 1 - Avery

  Chapter. 2 - Riley

  Chapter. 3 - Avery

  Chapter. 4 - Riley

  Chapter. 5 - Avery

  Chapter. 6 - Riley

  Chapter. 7 - Avery

  Chapter. 8 - Riley

  Chapter. 9 - Avery

  Chapter. 10 - Riley

  Chapter. 11 - Avery

  Chapter. 12 - Riley

  Chapter. 13 - Avery

  Chapter. 14 - Riley

  Chapter. 15 - Avery

  Chapter. 16 - Riley

  Chapter. 17 - Avery

  Chapter. 18 - Riley

  Chapter. 19 - Avery

  Chapter. 20 - Riley

  Chapter. 21 - Avery

  Chapter. 22 - Riley

  Chapter. 23 - Avery

  Chapter. 24 - Riley

  Chapter. 25 - Avery

  Chapter. 26 - Riley

  Chapter. 27 - Avery

  Chapter. 28 - Riley

  Chapter. 29 - Avery

  Chapter. 30 - Riley

  Epilogue - One Year Later

  Special Preview of Book Two - Alpha of the Litter

  Chapter. 1 - Lou

  Chapter. 1 - Avery

  “Statement from the Council - Amendment to Statute 9.08

  Statue 9.08 If a creature breeds with another creature not of your nature, or human, without the Council’s expressed permission, the creature, or human will remain in confinement within one of the Council’s safe houses until halfbreed is born. If a halfbreed survives the birth, it will be examined and a determination of its value to the community will be assessed. Based on that evaluation, it will either be allowed to live, or be sentenced to death. Redacted. All halfbreeds have exceeded their initial value, and will thus be considered registrable as members of the community. And given all the benefits of status, as well as expectations of rules and regulations laid out in the matters of the Community.”

  That amendment was written up in 1888, and as my fingertips skim over the typeface, I feel my mouth curve a little in bewilderment. It’s been a hundred years, and even though we are supposed to be celebrating a “new world” with halfbreeds given the same courtesy as all the other members, I slide back into my creaky chair and untwist my mouth just long enough to spit out a sarcastic, “Sure” to my own thoughts.

  “Hey runt, what you mumblin’ about?”

  I sigh, because I should be used to it by now, but no matter how many times they try to make that my name - I will never respond to it. It’s my one defiant act, and I’m resolute in not turning around and facing my brother until he changes the tone.

  “Yo, Avery - “

  I swivel the chair, and out of habit, look up. I have two older brothers, supposedly we’re triplets, but even though they look like twins, I look about as different as can be. My brothers, Llewelyn and Liam, are your typical burly shifters. They tower over me with their six foot four stature, and are built like lumberjacks. Really, if you came across their burly, dark haired frames in an unlit alley, you’d turn on your heel and hope they didn’t notice you.

  Me on the other hand: I’m the runt of the litter. My werewolf mother was supposedly as tough as they come, and though it’s rare for any werewolf to carry more than two, she seemed to be able to have just enough strength to carry three at once - but then again, we were half breeds. We aren’t one in a million, but we definitely aren’t common. Most of the time the genetics simply don’t match, and most creatures, or humans, miscarry early on (if they even get pregnant in the first place). But somehow our mother managed to deliver us, and when she saw my tiny frame, all bundled up beside my brothers, she just assumed I was a girl. She was elated, and named me Avery - and then even when she was told I was a boy, decided to keep the name, simply because it’s supposed to be gender neutral or something.

  I’ve been teased too much to really think it’s anything but cruel, but oh well - female name or not, I simply don’t fit in with my brothers, and so would be teased anyway, regardless of name, “Yes, Lou - what do you need?”

  Llewellyn stomps on in, his thick biker boots leaving streak marks on the vinyl. He’s so freaking huge, he seems to crush the floor underneath him. Even though my body is turned towards him, my gaze travels back to my desk, the Council’s fanciful letterhead sticking out among a sea of white paperwork, “What does the Council want now?”

  I almost absentmindedly respond, “Another gathering for registration, except this one’s local.”

  Lou has never really given much thought or care for the Council. He fills out the registration forms every year, and leaves it at that. He doesn’t question them, and they don’t question him. It’s a mutual ignorance on both parties ends. I on the other hand, am constantly pouring over their printouts, and letters, and announcements. I’ve read their Creature Guide Manual over a hundred times, and wonder if one day I’ll ever meet anyone like me.

  Because even though me and my brothers are rare - a small pack of shifters. I seem to be even more rare. A mutt who doesn’t fit in any world, not even the halfbreed one.

  No one looks like me, or acts like me, or even thinks like me. I’m a freak, among freaks.

  My brothers are happy working as farm hands, where their sheer size allows them a good income for our household, but me, I can certainly hold my own, but I would rather do the books for the various families in town. Not many of them seem to have been educated past eighth grade, while I was able to graduate college with a degree in accounting. So here I am, doing the books sorta speak, and every now and then, fumbling through the Council’s quarterly newsletters, browsing in hopes that something different will catch my attention.

  Lou huffs a little, glancing at the latest announcement, his eyes going slightly wide. I can smell the difference in his adrenal glands, and finally look back at him for the first time since he wandered into my office, “Not really all that great, right?”

  Lou chucks the paper to let it land wherever the wind carries it, then puffs his chest as if I would actually respond to his domineering ways, “Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?”

  There’s a slight tone to his voice, but I’m not intimidated by it. He might tower over me, but I can outrun anybody, or anything, any day of the week. I push my chair back, and stand up, closing the book, and gathering my things. I got an appointment for an accounting session at the library in Sleepy Eye, and I’m going to be late, if I don’t get to it, “I only just got the invitation for us yesterday, it’s not like I was trying to hide it or anything.”

  Lou sighs, clearly exasperated with my wanting a quick exit, but still making an attempt to keep the snarl at bay, “Alright, sorry little bro’”. I don’t bother acknowledging him, or stop from gathering up my supplies, because really, it would take more patience than I have at the moment, to make him feel better about his attitude. But then again . . . I freeze at the doorway, and muster at least a half smile, when I turn back to him, “The invitation is for registration in nearby Sleepy Eye, during that holiday festival concert in two weeks. Maybe we could invite Liam, and Haley to go with us?”

  The thought of the original trio getting back together again, even for something as mundane as creature registration, seems to perk his ears up, and I swear, if he actually had a tail, it’d be wagging right
about now. He might look like a burly jock who could pin me to the ground at any moment, but still at the end of the day, he’ll at least listen to me sometimes. This was one of those moments, because if anything, he’d need me for the paperwork.

  And even if it’s not the way I want to be needed, I’ll take whatever I can get.

  Chapter. 2 – Riley

  How I managed to get roped into this, I don’t know. I’m supposed to be the strong alpha female in our family, and yet one whine from my Dad, and I’m practically rolling onto my back in submission. So now, when I was supposed to be out hunting with the other cousins who are in town for the festival, I’m stuck with my little sis. Alright, she’s not all that little anymore, being almost eighteen in a month, but she’s at least an inch shorter than my 5’11 frame, and anytime she gives me lip, I get on my tippy toes, as if we’re back to being seven and four again. It’s not so cute anymore, now that I’m twenty - going on twenty one - in fact, it’s probably immature, but sometimes people take me too seriously because of how I look, that I have to remind them I can cut loose just like anybody else in our pack.

  But for now, my immaturity is coming out in the form of pout, as I cross my legs in the passenger seat, which is no easy task in a two seater convertible, “Are we almost there, at least?”

  My sister, Savannah, just brushes me off. She’s a go with the flow type, and doesn’t seem to have an ounce of the temper that affects the rest of us. Even though we’re all werewolves, she hasn’t come into her abilities yet. A millennia ago, the Council stripped all the children of their powers, stating that they would either have them at eighteen, or when they mated their partner - whichever came first. I guess back then, when they figured you only have sex when you’re married, and if you’re married, you must be mature enough to handle your powers . . . don’t know why they haven’t amended that one nowadays, but oh well. The point of their decree, is to protect humans from magical children having temper tantrums, who might slaughter a whole village overnight because you didn’t let them have an ice cream cone for dinner, or something.

  Savannah is turning next month, I’m sure of it. Some creatures don’t until mated, but I can see some changes already starting. She’s been leaning out - her cells getting ready for the shift, and being able to run long strides under a full moon. And her usually vegetarian leanings, have been replaced with meat as the main protein source three times a day. Oh yes, no way her body is making her wait till she’s mated, it’s happening to her on her eighteenth birthday, just like it happened to me. I wonder if the transition will be good for her, like it was for me, but only time will tell in the long run.

  Thinking about her imminent future, cooled some of the hesitation I had having to spend the afternoon prepping for the festival, but now my attention has shifted to my own future. The one where I’ll be stuck in Sleepy Eye forever, with a bunch of werewolf brutes who want to breed me, then stick me up on the mantel like I’m a prize that they won. I want more than a guy who can pick me up and fling me onto the bed. Though to be honest, I wouldn’t mind that either. Plenty of men have tried to seduce me, but so far, no one’s scent has made me feel all lightheaded and swoon worthy. I know I’m young, but plenty of other werewolves are married, and working on their second child by now. Maybe I’m just not the housewife, and motherly type. Savannah on the other hand, is going to have a full litter by my age, I’m sure of it.

  “If you really don’t want to help, I can just tell Daddy you did anyways, and you can go off exploring or something.”

  I feel kind of bad, that she even makes such an offer, much less assumes that I’d actually take it. I might gripe, but half the time I don’t mean it, “It’s okay, and hey, I’m sorry.” She knows not to dig too deeply when I actually apologize for once, because it happens so rarely, but I’m trying here. And she’s kind enough not to make a big deal out of it. So I go on, “Look, I’ll help with the prepping, and shit, I’ll even smile at people, but seriously you’ve got to talk to Daddy for me tonight.”

  Her curiosity peaked, she gives me a quick glance, trying not to take her eyes off the road, “About what?”

  I give her “oh c’mon” kind of glare, and she smirks just enough to make me realize she was trying to be sarcastic, “He listens to you, a hell of a lot more than he listens to me.” Savannah nods, fully agreeing, knowing there is no point in denying it. Daddy and me argue as much as we do, because we both have alpha personalities. But Savannah is so much like our dear, departed mother, that he goes all gooey in her hands. Being the kind of person she is, she’d never take advantage of his feelings for her, but maybe just this once, she could at least play mediator, considering my future depends on it.

  “He won’t make you mate anybody you don’t want, Riley.”

  I scoff, she’s got more faith in him than I do, “Once he realized I wasn’t letting anybody in our pack come near me with a ten foot pole, he spread the word that I’m a single, unmated werewolf in the personal ads of the Council newsletter With the registration happening in two weeks, I’m going to be bombarded by a bunch of testosterone behemoths who think they know what I need, without asking me a thing.”

  I can feel my temperature rising, as I sound more irate with each word, but I almost instantly cool when I feel her colder hand on mine. She’s usually more lighthearted than her current look, but she must be determined to convey support as our eyes lock, “Nobody could force you into anything.” I begin to smile, but it’s cemented when she continues, “Because they’d have to get past me first.”

  It’s a funny thought, imagining gentle Savannah fighting off werewolves, but oh well, she means well. We’re lost in this sweet sisterly moment, just long enough to not realize we’re about to crash into a whole new set of events.

  Honk!

  Chapter. 3 – Avery

  I had just stepped off the bus, and was walking across the street to Main Street. Sure, I probably could have asked to borrow Lou’s bike, but it seemed tense enough, and I simply don’t have enough energy to really feign any more indifference to him. I get that where he’s coming from, his prodding and teasing is probably meant as endearment, but it’s just not my way of doing things, and I’m already running on fumes today. The fields of Sleepy Eye are behind me, nature, and downtown cut off by 1-52, a two lane highway that connects a few small towns on their way into Atlanta.

  The holiday festival is already getting built out there, a good mile back from the road, in order to include the corn maze. It’ll have all the cheesy things that get people excited for at Halloween, like a hot chocolate stand, and fair games, and some concert that will feature mostly local talent, which shouldn’t be too bad, if last year is any indication. But for some reason, the Council is holding registration here, versus Atlanta. I couldn’t even begin to ask why, the administration only confusing me more, the more I dig.

  But I got other things to worry about. I’m meeting the Johnson family at the library, where I rented out a meeting room to go over their books from the last six months. A lot of the locals like to get things in order for the new year, and this meeting is no different. I got at least three more this month. This afternoon is merely about me getting their gathered paperwork, and doing a quick look over, before taking it all home with me to study.

  I must be distracted by what’s lying ahead of me, because as soon as I round the front of the bus, I hear the driver honk - loud enough that it freezes me in place, as I try to regain my senses and figure out what they guy’s problem is. But as I look back to see what’s going on, I catch the glimpse of a car about to collide with me, and instinct takes over. With almost unnatural precision, I jump up in the air, landing on the hood, before the screeching brakes of the car propel me forward even more. With no power to stop gravity from inflicting its course, I finally land in the backseat, because for some reason, these people actually have their top down in October (even if it is Georgia).

  I tend to heal quickly, and nothing feels broken, but surely
it’s about as weird of a way to meet anybody that I’ve ever heard of. Looking up from the scattered papers that somehow only managed to break free from my leather bag when I fell on it, I watch as one final piece lands in my lap, clearing the view from the front side of the car. Two gorgeous women are looking down at me, obviously concerned, if not stunned, and suddenly - though I had had half a mind to tell them off for not looking where they were going (after all, anybody else probably would have been killed) - I can’t help but feel downright small under their stare.

  I don’t even try to come up with anything witty, “Hello.”

  My voice sounds an octave higher than usual, and it’s not that deep to begin with. The brunette smiles a little, but the raven haired one practically chuckles, and I can tell the slightest blush is coming across my cheeks.

  “Hey there handsome, thanks for dropping in.”

  I quickly sit up, never one to do well with direct attention, and want to mumble some sort of reply, but instead I start gathering my papers, trying to make as quick of an exit as possible.

  “Hey hun, you okay?”

  I stop just long enough to let the tone sink in, the raven haired one is trying to be kind, and I guess since I haven’t said anything but a pipsqueak hello, I might need to assure them I’m not hurt - or if anything let them know that I’m not coming after them for money or something. I finally allow myself a longer look, and realize just how ridiculously beautiful they both are. Symmetrical, almost angular features, with piercing ice blue eyes, and long straight hair. One reminds me of chocolate, but the raven - her hair looks so black, it’s almost blue under the sunlight. I realize I still haven’t said anything, and I try to at least nod, indicating I can understand basic questions, before I finally say something, anything, “I just need to get to a meeting.”