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“You don’t have to fight our battles for us. Think of it this way. Water finds its own level. If grown men and women want to whisper behind my back then they were never the sorts of people I would want to associate with. They obviously weren’t our friends, so why should I care what they think?”
“You cared enough to move.”
“Cared aboutyou. We’re a family, Margo. A team. Your mother and I have only ever wanted the best for you. That’s our job, to give you the best life we possibly can. Anyone who thinks otherwise shouldn’t be a parent.” He pressed his lips together, a flicker of anger burning in his eyes. “Why should my little girl suffer because a couple of superstitious adults decided it was their place to judge our family?”
My fingers closed into fists. “They should never have said anything about you.I’mthe freak.”
“You’re not a freak. We all have our quirks, things others don’t or won’t understand. A real community would have supported you, helped you. But those people showed their true colours, and your mother and I decided they weren’t worth knowing.That’swhy we moved.”
I blinked back some tears. No matter how angry I felt at the people who had driven us out of town, the fact they didn’t want us saddened me all the more. “They would have forgotten after a while.”
“But I wouldn’t,” he said softly. “Your mother and I have been dealing with your sleepwalking for years, but it’s unsettling for someone who has no experience. I can understand that much. But for the small-minded few… they had a field day with the gossip, and those who listened were just as bad as those who spoke. There’s no going back from that. I could never bring myself to smile at any of those people gain.”
“It’s just so unfair, Dad.” Frustration sent fresh tears to my eyes. “I thought it was all over, that I was better. It hadn’t happened for ages.”
“But then it did.” The lines around his eyes creased. “Finding a young girl asleep on the side of a road in her nightdress is not something a small village forgets. Theywantedto see the worst in you, but that says more about them than you.”
“I didn’t hurt the dog.” Except I couldn’t say that for sure. I bit the inside of my mouth. I couldn’t remember leaving my house—only that I had woken up to the elderly couple next door gazing down at me in horror. My hands had been bloody, and a dog had been dead next to me. At first, the neighbours had assumed I was the one who had been hurt; they called the police. By mid-morning, everyone in the village knew that Margo Harding was a weirdo at best, and a probable psycho dog-murderer besides. Leaving felt like running away, almost as though it were an admittance of guilt.
“Of course you didn’t hurt the dog. The poor creature practically lived with us half the time, the neighbours let him roam so much,” he said softly. “But people as a rule like to focus on the faults of others, imagined or otherwise. And if I’d heard one more whispered comment, I might have loafed someone.”
A giggle erupted from my lips. My dad was the ultimate softy. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Then I would have been forced to hold your mother back, and you know how strong she is.” He grinned, and I suddenly felt ten times better. “Is it break time yet?”
I nodded. “That’s why I came looking for you.”
“Great.” He nodded at the discarded lampshade. “Let’s bin that and put a new one on the shopping list.” He escorted me toward the kitchen.
“So,” I said. “Since I’ve had such a tough time of it and all, and the school term’s already started, I might as well stay home for a bit. You know, to recover.”
It was his turn to laugh. “As if, my love. As if.”
In the kitchen, we ate together, all three of us, and for a while it felt as though we really were back home, as though the surroundings had never mattered at all.
There was just one problem. We’d been run out of our village because of my sleepwalking, and no doctor I had ever seen could tell us why it happened in the first place. Sleepwalking was one thing, discovering dead animals quite another. If I didn’t find a way to stop my sleepwalking for good, I would ruin my parents’ lives for a second time. I needed answers, but I had no idea where to start.
Chapter 2
Dorian
I watchedthe girl walk away, the buckles on her knee-high green Docs clinking in rhythm with her stride. Great first impression I’d just made.“You can’t go over there.”I couldn’t have acted more suspicious if I tried. She’d merely looked at pack property, but the wolf had flared to life as though it couldn’t tell the difference between a pretty girl and an enemy trying to steal our territory. She’d had an odd aura though, something that made me want to step away—made me curious, too. She was maybe seventeen, and she hadn’t smelled like a shifter, but goose bumps were still sticking up on my arms from her scent.
I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide the trembling in my fingers. Little shivers ran up and down my back. The wolf was freaked out. I turned to look at the empty field to settle my nerves. It was a boring, empty field, full of scents that only a werewolf sense of smell would ever pick up, so why had she spent the last twenty minutes or so staring at it?
Then again, I’d spent almost as long staring ather.
I wandered home, the incident playing on my mind the entire time. When I got back, Mara and Victor were waiting impatiently by the front gates. Her hands were curled into tight fists, so I guessed he had been bothering her again.
She looked me over, her Nordic blue eyes narrowing. “Where the hell are the snacks?”
I glanced at my empty hands. “Oh.”
“You’re so bloody useless,” Victor snapped. “What is he even here for?”
“To make idiots like you look better,” Mara said sweetly before elbowing him in the ribs. “Seriously though, Dor. You had one job.”
“I’ll go back.” I wished I could disappear right there and then. “I just bumped into someone and got distracted and—”
