Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1)

Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) by Isabelle Hemlock Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) by Isabelle Hemlock Read Free Book Online
Authors: Isabelle Hemlock
me.
 I’m sure with how we were making out, there’s some of her on me, but it’s
faint, and he seems dissatisfied with whatever smell he’s picking up on me.
 He scrunches his nose, then lowers his face to mine, eyes wide, “You’re not a werewolf.”

No shit , is what I’d like to reply with,
but I fight the urge to say it out loud.  Instead, I mumble a quick, “No, Sir.”   And then he takes
another whiff, trying to place me, and figure me out.  I don’t know why,
but the fact that he’s doing this, makes me think he’s sizing me up for
something.  A fight?  Whether I’m worthy to be a mate to his
daughter?

 
    He looks confused, them mutters about how I don’t smell quite human, that there’s a wolf
smell to me, but I’m not a werewolf . . . I’m genuinely surprised how well this
family can smell, but Riley interjects, practically rolling her eyes, “He’s a halfbreed Dad, a halfbreed !”
 

 
    Finally, his once wide eyes narrow on mine, and I feel
like I should be running . . . but Riley’s grip on my hand is so firm, that I’d
be dragging her behind me.  It’s then that I realize why she’s been
holding onto me.  At first I thought it was some sort of defiant,
rebellious act against her father.  But as he stomps closer to us, I
realize he isn’t laying it on me like I figured he’d would.  And the
reason he isn’t physically removing me from his driveway, is because somewhere
deep down, even though he doesn’t respect me - he respects his daughter’s
choice.  Her declaration that I’m her mate, even though he doesn’t smell
it on us, much less understand, makes it impossible for him to lay a finger on
me.  He won’t touch me, because it’s one of their most absolute rules.
 Mates aren’t to be messed with.

 
    This whole time, by holding my hand, she made her decision
obvious, even when her father couldn’t get it.  Even when I don’t really
one hundred percent believe it either.  She’s protecting me from the
uncertainty and it genuinely warms my heart towards her, to think I’m worthy of
her in any way shape or form.  

 
    “Daddy, come on
inside and let them say goodnight to one another,” I see Savannah stand
near the door, and before her father turns around, she gives both me and Riley
a little nod, as if she can handle him for a little while.  The man huffs,
and after a moment’s hesitation, relents and heads inside - though he slams the
door so hard, that I think he might have shattered a panel.  I’m not
entirely shaken, not as much as I should be at least, but I’m also not keen on
kissing her goodnight ten feet away from her father, who is surely watching us
from a window.  

 
    Still, Riley looks at me, seemingly apologetic, but I’m
quick to reassure her, “He’s as gentle
as a puppy I’m sure, all bark, no bite, right ?. ”

 
    “He shouldn’t have
been so rude to you,” her eyes look downright sad, and I want to do
whatever I can to make her feel better.

 
    “Eh, honestly, I
can handle it.  My brothers like to tease me incessantly, I’m okay with a
couple of names slung my way.”

 
    Riley steps a little closer, but I try not to encourage
any affection between us.  Still a little too aware of eyes being on us,
though it’s getting increasingly hard to deny her, when she looks almost
pleadingly at me, “Avery, he shouldn’t
have treated you like that, nobody should.”  Her eyes narrow a little,
and there’s a touch of something there.  Not quite anger, or jealousy, but
- possessiveness?  I’m not used to the gaze, and I’m not sure how to
respond to it, “Maybe I should talk to
these brothers of yours if they tease you again.”

 
    Just what I need, a werewolf wreaking
havoc on my brothers.  I’ll never hear the end of it, “No, it’s okay - promise.”

 
    Riley looks at me, seemingly questioning if I’m being
forthcoming or not, but I give nothing away.  Not because I don’t want to
bare

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