Something Unexpected(ON Hold)

Chapter Twelve

The voices were patient with me as they explained, through my mind, what they had done. They were patient with me as I thoroughly realized I had finally gone bat shit crazy.

"I am not a fucking werewolf." I growled lowly to myself, knowing they heard me, because this was how I had been communicating.

Chuckles sounded through the rooms, and I growled at them before I caught the habit. One male asked how old I was, that I sounded young, and I answered, "Twenty-two, though depending how long I stay here, I might end up fifty before I die."

Laughs all around and I commented on how they were trying to make me feel better, I felt their humor, and knew that they were trying to ease the news to me.

I began to think about my life, but couldn't come up with any plausible explanation. "I haven't ever been bit by any large dogs," I reasoned with them softly, trying to think of something.

An older sounding man laughed, and I knew him to be the oldest in my mind, and one living without a tongue. "It doesn't work like the stories, little Luna. You are only born, you aren't made. Those stories are ridiculous. Mates will never be outside of your race, but they can be outside of your pack. Something tells me you were brought up human, which surprises me. No one can deny the change when they turn twelve."

I frowned, "My parents were definitely not furry beasts, and my brother was thirteen, I definitely would've realized if he suddenly sprouted fur and fangs."

The woman, Cecil, broke in, "Were you adopted?"

Murmurs followed her question, and I pondered her question. Had I been?

I shook my head, though none of them could see the action, "Hell no. My parents were definitely my parents!"

Nobody replied, and I knew they could feel me questioning, doubting, my heritage. Certain things began to stand out to me.

For one thing, neither of my parents had the same color of hair that I did. My father had black hair that had peppered with age, and my mom had caramel brown hair. I had always assumed I had gotten my eyes from her, just plain blue where hers were hazel; often changing between blue and green depending on her mood or what she wore. My freckles I assumed I got from my dad's side of the family, who he claimed were German, though his face was freckle free. Neither of my parents were vertically challenged, and with me standing at 5'1", I had always questioned them. My mother had told me my grandmother had been short too, and I had swallowed it, but now I was spitting it back up.

We moved all the time, and while it was sometimes stressful on my young mind, I had gotten used to it. I was able to make friends easily, and people were often drawn to me.

Realizations were dawning on me, and I tried to think back to when I was twelve. I remember my parents being incredibly over-bearing. I was a teenager going through puberty, what more was I going to think? That was the year I had been homeschooled, we had just moved and they claimed it was too late to get me started.

Threading my dirty fingers through my ratty hair, I set my elbows on my knees and leaned over with my head dangling from my finger's grip. I never changed though, so I couldn't be a wolf. A werewolf.

It was impossible.

Wasn't it?

But... I remember the house visits, from the doctors. I got sick that year, incredibly sick.