Initiation (Wolf Blood Academy Book 1) RaShelle Workman (ebook reader for pc txt) 📖

We held each other for some time, and then she pushed away, giving me a once over. “What happened?”

The older man stood behind my mom, his hands on his slightly oversized hips. “I’ll need you to come down to the station and give a statement.”

“No,” my mom shouted, turning a glare on the man. “She’s here, and I’m not letting her out of my sight, Dave.”

There was an animalistic fire in her I hadn’t seen before. Ever. “It’s okay, Mom. I can go.”

“Stella, I’ll need her to tell me where she’s been the last two days,” he said, his eyes meeting hers, but only for a moment before he looked down.

Two days? Holy crap! I couldn’t believe I’d been unconscious in the forest that long. How was I still alive?

“Really, Mom. It’s alright,” I cooed, hoping to calm her down.

She nodded once. “Fine, but first let her have a shower and some food. Can you do that, Dave?” She wrapped a protective arm around my waist.

I’d been taking care of her for years, so seeing her behaving like a mama bear and staring down a seasoned cop was surreal.

His shoulders eased. “That’ll be alright.” He moved away from us and yelled, “Wrap it up, boys. We’re done here.”

Mom walked me through the flurry of activity, doing her best to shield me from prying eyes. Inside, she helped me to the bathroom and turned on the water to take a shower. “Take your time. I’ll make you some warm milk.”

I studied her like I was seeing her for the first time. “I am really sorry,” I said.

“Never you mind, sweetheart. Get cleaned up, and we’ll talk when you’re ready.” She closed the door.

I stood there a moment, still wondering if what had happened in the woods was real. Had it been a dream? The police might test me for drugs. That would tell me something.

Quickly, I removed my clothes, throwing them into the garbage can. I didn’t want to see them ever again. Then I climbed into the warm water. It felt like heaven.

When I finished, I wrapped myself in a towel and went to the mirror, wiping off the steam and studying my reflection. The first thing I noticed was my eyes. They were still ice blue, but there was a slight ring around them. I leaned in closer. Sure enough, the ring had a yellow tint to it. There were other changes too, but they were less physically noticeable. I just felt amazing. Like I was the healthiest I’d ever been.

After drying my hair and putting it in a wet bun, I went to my room and threw on a loose pair of faded jeans, a red tee, and black flipflops. When I came downstairs, I felt sure my mom would be back on the couch and zoned out on a TV show.

She wasn’t.

She was in the kitchen, whipping up a batch of… Could that be brownies? When she saw me, she paused and pulled a plate covered in foil from the oven. “Eat. You must be starved.” She removed the foil.

She’d made cheese enchiladas, seasoned rice, and beans. “Wow, this smells so good.” I sat on a barstool and carefully pulled the warm plate over.

She handed me a fork. “Thank you,” she said, then went back to beating the brownie batter.

Cheese enchiladas had always been my favorite food. Not that I didn’t like meat. If I had to eat it, that was fine, but I preferred more vegetarian cuisine. As I forked a bite and stuck it in my mouth, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. What I wanted was a big, juicy steak, raw in the middle.

“How is it?” Mom asked.

I chewed and swallowed. “Fine.” I needed to do better than that. This was the first meal she’d prepared for me in probably three years. “Great, actually.” I took another bite and smiled as I chewed to show her how much I appreciated her efforts.

Mom studied me, her head tilted to one side, in a way that reminded me I was her daughter. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking a drink of water. “Why do you ask?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.” She scraped the batter into a greased pan with a spatula, then stuck it in the oven. “No reason.” She wiped her hands on a towel and began cleaning up. “Tell me what happened,” she said as she worked.

It occurred to me she went to all this effort because of stress. Some people stress ate. Others stress cleaned. My mom stress cooked. I got that from her too.

“It was after work. I locked up the store and took the trash to the garbage can. When I got to my car, these men—”

Mom gasped. “Did they? Are you? Oh, no, no, no. Should I have taken you to the hospital and had them do a rape kit?” Her face went whiter than our countertops.

“It’s okay, Mom. They didn’t… do that.” By the look on her face and the dread in her eyes, I knew she harbored memories she’d rather forget. My heart hurt for her. “I promise. They didn’t touch me that way.” I set down my fork and chugged the rest of the water.

Relief washed over her. “Tell me the rest.”

For the next several minutes, I told her about them taking me into the Shade and how the leader tried to drown me in the river. After that, I told her about the wolf and showed her where the bite had been. “But it’s so weird because I felt my ribs break.” I shook my head. “Maybe I just imagined it.”

While I spoke, my mom’s face went from pale to deep red.

“Are you mad?” I asked softly.

“Beyond,” she said, turning away. “But not at you. At your father. At the men who took you and the wolf that bit you.” She crossed her arms. “At everything,” she said and buried her face in her hands as she fell to