Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1)

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!

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